Weekend Writing Prompt 5

Describe a walk through the woods (or other setting) from the viewpoints of three radically different characters.

If you come up with a good response, please consider sharing it. Complete THIS FORM with your description and some basic info no later than Friday, April 5. I’ll pick my favorite response and share it on the blog on the following Friday, April 12.

C. Wombat

Writing Prompt 3 Winner

Writing Prompt 3 was:

Write a poem about Spring which does not include any of these words: warm, rain, flower, sun, grass.

Bonus challenge: also avoid using the word “the” or any word ending in -ly

Congratulations to Jenny S., age 12, of Bloomington, Indiana, for composing this very creative poem.

C'mon, Summer

A chill yet lingers in soil and air,

As yet unbanished despite solar rays

Washing across them.

Fragments of color

Erupt from muddy graves,

Winter's sleep dispelled.

Tiny buds form, unfurl, explode

Into vibrant green.

My eyelids glow pink

As I stare through them

At Apollo's chariot,

A silent promise that summer will arrive

But not soon enough for me.

Roadrunner Review Call for Submissions

The Roadrunner Review, an online literary journal that is run by the students at La Sierra University, is accepting submissions for its second issue. They are looking for fiction, nonfiction, and poetry pieces up to 1,000 words.

Deadline is April 7.

Submissions are open to any college undergraduate or graduate student.

In addition, they are also running a writing contest for high school students with a $200 prize. The winning entry will also be printed in their upcoming issue.

Deadline for the high school writing contest is May 5.

All entries must be previously unpublished. All rights revert to the author after publication.

See the Roadrunner Review submissions page for more details and to submit.

C. Wombat

6 Tips for Handling Rejection

If you’re an author, unless you’re the most brilliant author in the history of the universe (and perhaps even then), you are going to get rejected. Disappointing? Yes, but not the end of the world. Here is some advice on how to deal with it.

Don’t Take It Personally

Rejection happens. It is an absolute fact of life, not only in writing but in everything we do. Nobody is going to like what you have to say or the way you say it every single time. Some people may never like it. But others will. You just have to find the right person.

One of the most difficult pieces of rejection to get is when an agent or editor tells you they liked—or even loved—your writing, but they still don’t accept it. They’ll explain that it just isn’t the right fit for them, or not what they want right now, or too similar to something else they have already accepted.

While those may seem like brush offs, chances are what they are saying is 100% percent true. Agents and editors won’t tell you they liked your story if they didn’t. They don’t have time to waste on that. A positive rejection means you are very close to success. You just have to keep trying.

Consider Criticism with an Open Mind

If you are lucky enough to receive specific criticism, don’t get offended, and don’t ignore it. The person who sent you those comments took time out of their extremely busy schedule because they felt your writing was good enough to merit it.

Look carefully at what the rejection says. Don’t take it as an attack on you or your work, but as a suggestion, just like you would from a critique partner or beta reader. Consider it with an open mind. And then decide if you agree. If you do agree, make some changes. If you don’t agree, don’t. The next editor or agent may like your story exactly the way it is now.

Take a Short Break

Take a few minutes, a few hours, even a few days to do anything other than writing, or stewing over the latest rejection. Go for a walk. Go out to dinner with friends or your family. Take in the latest moving or binge watch past episodes of your favorite show. Get out of the house for the weekend and go somewhere.

Take a little bit of time to recharge your batteries, and to let the sting of rejection fade. Then take a deep breath, and dive right back in. If the rejection included a personal note, reread it and see if it’s worth addressing. If not, move on. Identify your next set of targets, and set out another round of queries.

A short break can help a lot, but keep it short. It is far too easy for a few days off to turn into weeks, months, even years. Don’t let that happen.

Write Something New

You may think the story or book that just got rejected is the best thing you have ever written. And it may be. But that doesn’t mean it is the best thing you will ever write.

Always have another project in progress, or waiting to be started. You should already be writing something new while you’re waiting to hear back on your last set of queries anyway. Use the power and energy of creation, of crafting an even better story, to help get you past the disappointment of rejection.

Don’t be afraid to send different works out to the same agents and editors, either. The first story might not have resonated with them, but they may absolutely adore the second.

Silence Your Biggest Critic

Even the most brilliant, egotistical, bombastic blowhard harbors self-doubt. For those of us mere mortals, we live our lives surrounded by doubt on every side. Receiving a rejection is just one more excuse for us to think the least of ourselves and our abilities.

Don’t fall into that trap. Take your self-doubt, slap it around a little bit, and kick it to the wayside. It isn’t doing you any good. A rejection does not mean you are a bad writer—some of the best and most prolific writers racked up hundreds of rejections before making their first sale.

And even famous, extensively published authors get rejected. Jane Yolen, award-winning author of more than 370 books for children, still receives rejections. Here’s what she has to say about it:¹

Some rejections I curse the editor for being dense, uncaring, lying, or incompetent. Some I curse publishing in general, its emphasis on bestsellerdom, its attention to bottom line, its incapacity for surprise. Occasionally I curse myself: I’m not good enough for the idea. I was too facile. I sent it to the wrong editor. I am too demanding, not demanding enough. 

But I did the only thing possible, given a rejection. I turned right around and sent the little picture books off again, by email, to someone else.

A Rejection is a Win

It may not seem like it, but being rejected is not the worst thing that could happen to you as a writer. Not receiving rejections is.

If you never receive a rejection, it almost certainly means you never submitted your work in the first place. You never sent a query. You never even tried.

The only sure way to guarantee that you will never be published is to never try. Accept rejections for what they are: proof that you are trying, and will keep trying, until you succeed.

C. Wombat

¹ Taken from Jane Yolen’s For Writers: Frequently Asked Questions.

Weekend Writing Prompt 4

While fighting off a horde of zombies/vampires/werewolves/whatever, your hero discovers a way of killing/defeating them that no one else knows.

If you come up with a good response, please consider sharing it. Complete THIS FORM with your story and some basic info no later than Friday, March 29. I’ll pick my favorite response and share it on the blog on Friday, April 5.

C. Wombat

Writing Prompt 2 Winner

I was completely blown away by this snippet from Terry G., age 15, of Norfolk, VA. He took last week's prompt and went way above and beyond anything I was expecting.

The prompt was: Describe your house (or somewhere else) using only the senses of hearing, feeling, smell, and taste (no sight!).

Terry went with "somewhere else" and definitely knocked it out of the park. Enjoy.

The sharp clatter of hooves on cobblestones vanished at least an hour ago, replaced by rhythmic pounding on a hard-packed dirt road. As we make a sudden turn to the right, their gait slows to a walk, and deep grass muffles their progress.

No more dust at least, I think. I try once again to clear my throat, to cough up the cloying dirt, but the gag makes it impossible. The weak spasms bounce my body against the back of the man who guides our horse, scraping my cheek against his coarse shirt.

Murmuring voices drift from ahead, but they are too indistinct to make out over the jangle of harnesses, the rustle of slender legs through tall grass, the blowing of the nearly exhausted horses.

A swirling gust dries the dusty sweat on my face, carrying with it the scent of orchids and cowberries. The meadow we’re crossing must boast a respectable display of flowers, but the men were quite thorough with my blindfold and I can’t see a petal. I wouldn’t even be sure the sun was still up were it not warming my hair.

A moment later, the world grows suddenly colder as the sunlight vanishes and the thump of hooves on grass is replaced by rustling leaves and snapping twigs. A patch of woods, perhaps a forest. The trees could not have been too thickly clustered, as we ride another fifteen minutes before finally pulling to a stop.

The man before me dismounts and unties the cord that bind my legs to the horse. I am dragged from my seat and unceremoniously dumped on the ground. Before I can stand up, or even work some circulation into my dead legs, my ankles are pushed together and wrapped with rope.

“Comfortable, your Lordship?” a cruel voice asks, before breaking into a raucous laugh. Coarse hands drag me across the ground and prop me against a tree. Another rope is looped under my arms and wrapped around the tree, tugging against my chest as it is tied on the far side.

Over the next hour, they unsaddle the horses, build a fire, cook their dinner. My stomach rumbles at the smell of a savory stew, venison as near as I can tell. Despite my hunger, I don’t think I could keep anything down. Not that it matters. No one offers me even a single bite. I taste nothing but the dust of the road that still clings to my gag.

The men are careful. Far more careful than I would have credited. Talk is minimal. There are no threats, no boasting, no banter. Not a single name gets used, nor any hint of where they are taking me, or why. Though why seems obvious. It must be for money. My family has no influence at court that might be manipulated, but they do have plenty of money.

Tree frogs and crickets begin their nighttime song. The breeze has died, but the cold seeps in from every side. I am too far from the fire to enjoy any of its warmth. No one offers me a cloak or a blanket. It will be a long, uncomfortable night.

I lean my head back against the tree. Coarse bark grinds against my skin. When I tip my head forward again to try another angle, strands of my hair cling to the tree. Great. Just what I needed. Pine sap in my hair, on top of everything else. There is nothing for it. I settle my head back again, hoping to find a more comfortable position.

I know I must have dozed off somehow. The frogs have quieted enough to tell me a couple of hours have passed. Now their mating cries vie against the snoring of my captors. I am just about to try sleeping again when I realize someone is right next to me. I can feel the radiant warmth of their body on my cheek.

“Don’t make a sound.”

The whisper borders on the inaudible, the speaker’s lips so close to my ear that they tickle it. The words bring a smile to my face and hope to my heart for the first time since I was seized.

Irina. I should have known she’d find me.

Cold steel rubs against my wrist as a wickedly sharp knife slices through my bonds. In a moment my hands are free. I work to silently rub some feeling back into them as the knife moves to my feet, to my gag, and at last to my blindfold. The knife vanishes, to be replaced by strong, slender hands. Irina helps me to my feet. She doesn’t make a sound. I do. But not so much that anyone could hear it over the reverberating snores.

“Don’t move unless you have to,” Irina breaths. “If you must, head left. My horse is near the road. I’ll be right back.”

The night is dark, the fire down to the last faint embers, the leaves blocking the starlight. I can barely make out the tree next to me, can’t see the sleeping shapes on the ground at all. That’s okay. I don’t want to.

I close my eyes and listen to Irina work. I hear nothing of her movements, but I can track her nonetheless as she moves through the camp. One by one, the snores go silent. I almost feel sorry for them.

Almost.

Writers of the Future Contest

Funded by the estate of writer L. Ron Hubbard, the Writers of the Future contest is open any non-professional author (no or very limited previous publications).

They are looking for science fiction, fantasy, and dark fantasy stories of up to 17,000 words in length. This contest does not accept poetry or stories intended for children.

The contest runs four times a year, and prizes are $1000, $750, and $500 each quarter. Quarterly winners are also eligible for the annual prize of $5000.

The current contest ends March 31, with the next round running from April 1 to June 30.

There is no entry fee.

For more details and to enter the contest, see the Writers of the Future website.

C. Wombat

Review: The Girl King by Mimi Yu

Lu may be the oldest of the Emperor’s children, both girls, but that in no way ensures that she will become Emperor after him. There has never been a female Emperor, and most of the land’s nobles want to keep it that way. Even though her entire life has been spent training to rule—in combat, in court etiquette, in history, in tactics—there is the very real chance that she will never get the opportunity to put them into practice.

Lu suddenly finds herself betrayed by everyone around her: tutors, generals, the man who would be her husband, and even her own parents. She must go on the run to find new supporters in her bid for the throne, with only the help of Nokhai, one of the shape-shifters whose family her own father destroyed. Meanwhile, her sister Minyi is trapped in the world that Lu leaves behind, and must struggle to discover her own identity now that she is no longer overshadowed by her older sister.

Mimi Yu presents a vivid, well-constructed fantasy world inspired by the empires of Asia. The imperial palace and courtly life are intricately detailed and portrayed—you can feel the weight of history surrounding Lu and vainly attempting to mold her into a role she does not want to accept. Yu effectively contrasts the disparity between the nobility and the common man without being blunt or overbearing.

The plot is as twisted as a nest of vipers, which leaves the pace of the book feeling a little slow at first as all of the strands are introduced. But there is nothing slow about most of the novel, and the ending is over almost too quickly, leaving you begging for more.

Released in January 2019, The Girl King is Mimi Yu’s first novel, but it is clear it won’t be her last. If you are a lover of high fantasy, imperfect characters, and shadowy intrigue that leaves you constantly guessing, The Girl King is the book for you.

C. Wombat

Are Adverbs Evil?

Writers use adverbs. From great writers to horrible writers, best sellers to those who will never be published, every writer uses adverbs.

So why do so many writers hate adverbs? Why do you so often see the advice to avoid them?

What Are Adverbs?

Hopefully you already know this one. Much like an adjective modifies a noun, an adverb is “a word or phrase that modifies or qualifies an adjective, verb, or other adverb or a word group, expressing a relation of place, time, circumstance, manner, cause, degree, etc.” A lot of folks think adverbs only modify verbs, but note that they can modify other things too, including adjectives.

For example: The dog ran quickly down the road.

Here’s, it’s obvious that quickly is an adverb. It tells us how the dog ran.

Example 2: The cat had unusually shiny fur.

Here, shiny is an adjective (it modifies the noun, fur), while unusually is an adverb that modifies the adjective (it modifies shiny, telling us more about the shininess of the fur).

Many adverbs are easy to spot because they end in -ly, but not all of them do.

Why Are They Bad?

So, if adverbs exist (and they certainly do), and every writer uses them, why do they tell you not to use them?

The answer isn’t that adverbs are evil. They are overused. In particular, they are used to shore up weak verbs or adjectives, rather than finding a stronger word to begin with.

Back to our first example. The dog ran quickly down the road.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with the sentence. By itself, it’s a perfectly understandable sentence. But as authors, we’re not going just for understandable. We want to craft lyrical, amazing sentences that capture the reader’s attention and make them say, “Wow, this is an incredible story!”

So how do we do that? Use stronger, more descriptive nouns and adjectives.

The dog dashed down the road. The dog scampered down the road. The dog raced down the road.

Every one of these sentences conveys a sense of running quickly, but because speed is already built into the verbs, no adverb is needed. We don’t need to write that the dog raced quickly down the road, because it’s difficult to imagine that it raced slowly down the road.

Overused Adverbs

Here’s a short list of frequently overused (and misused) adverbs:

very

really

totally

literally

often

actually

probably

suddenly

usually

kind of

extremely

truly

hopefully

perfectly

There are many others that you might overuse yourself, but these tend to be common to many writers. And in many cases, they can be eliminated.

Adverbs Aren’t Evil

There is nothing wrong with adverbs. They exist for a reason. But if you overuse them, your writing will look sloppy and amateur. Cut as many as you can, so that the adverbs you do choose to keep enhance your writing, rather than detract from it.

One rule of thumb is no more than one adverb per 300 words of text. For a standard letter-sized page, doubled spaced, 1” margins, and 12-point font, that means about one adverb per page.

If you use a few more, you may be safe. If you use a lot more, be prepared for criticism.

But don’t ever let anyone tell you that you can’t use any adverbs at all. They’re part of the language, and they aren’t evil.

C. Wombat

Weekend Writing Prompt 3

Write a poem about Spring which does not include any of these words: warm, rain, flower, sun, grass.

Bonus challenge: also avoid using the word “the” or any word ending in -ly

Be as creative as you can. Length is no object--in fact, the longer, the better. Come on, you can do better than a haiku.

If you come up with a good response, please consider sharing it. Complete THIS FORM with your poem and some basic info no later than Friday, March 22. I’ll pick my favorite response and share it on the blog on the following Friday, March 29.

C. Wombat

Writing Prompt 1 Winner

Congratulations to Sean M., 16, of Lincoln, Nebraska, for submitting the winning response to Weekend Writing Prompt 1.

The prompt was: Your parents accidentally leave something sitting out that you were never meant to discover.

Here's Sean's story.

Maybe I Should Have Just Asked

Now, before you do anything rash, give me a minute or two to explain what’s been going on. I think you’ll agree that it’s all my parents’ fault, and I really shouldn’t be blamed for any of it.

I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve always been a bit too curious for my own good, and it’s gotten me into trouble before, though nothing like this. Even so, I’d never though too much about the file cabinet that Dad keeps locked all the time. And I’d never even seen the lock box that was sitting open on his desk yesterday afternoon. But Dad freaked when I walked in and saw the box. He shoved some papers into it and locked it before I could get a look at them. The locked box went into the file cabinet, and it got locked, too.

Despite my curiosity, that might have been the end of it. Dad keeps the keys on him at all times. I had no chance of getting into the file cabinet without some serious tools, and there was no way I could get at the box without leaving major evidence that I had.

I asked Dad what was in the box.

“Financial papers,” he said. “Life insurance, stuff like that. Nothing you need to worry about.”

Uh huh. Right. Sure, maybe parents don’t like their teenage kids thinking about life insurance and death and all that junk. I get that. But Dad’s reaction was way overboard for something that simple.

Just then, Mom pulled into the driveway, back from the grocery store. Dad went out to help her unload. I lagged behind for a few seconds, fake tying my shoe, then checked the top of the desk as soon as Dad was out of sight. Notes from work were scattered around, along with several spreadsheets (Dad’s an accountant, possibly the dullest job in the history of the world). I was about to give up when I saw something that didn’t fit tucked most of the way under a page full of numbers.

It was a birth certificate. No big deal. I had seen mine a couple of times, most recently when I got my temps. I was about to tuck it back where it was when I read the name.

Faustino Torini.

I had never heard the name before. At first, I wondered if it was some distant uncle or something, but this guy was born in 2003, the same year as me. The same day, too.

“Tony, come give us a hand!” Mom called.

My time was up. I had only a split second to make a decision. I made the wrong one. I should have just put it back on the desk, but I didn’t. I slipped the birth certificate into my pocket instead.

After supper, I headed upstairs and pulled the paper out from under my pillow where I had stashed it. There was no question about it. Faustino Torini, born January 17th, 2003. The exact same day as me. But this kid was born in New York City. His parents were Giorgio Torini and Delfina Speranza, also both born in New York. I’d never heard of either of them, either.

Except...

Giorgio’s birthday was June 9th, just like Dad’s. And Delfina’s birthday was November 22nd, just like Mom’s. I thought the years might be the same, too, though I couldn’t remember for sure.

But I was Anthony Miller, Dad was Michael Miller, and Mom was Angela Watterson Miller. I’d been born in Fostoria, Ohio, and lived here my entire life. My parents were born in Akron and Pittsburgh.

Just what the heck was going on here?

Why did Dad keep a birth certificate for some random kid locked up with his important papers? If that’s really what they were. And what was up with the birth dates?

I suppose I could have asked my parents, but I doubted that I would get any answers, and I would definitely get in serious trouble. Although, being grounded and losing the car keys for a month doesn’t sound so bad in retrospect, given the current situation.

I turned to the internet, instead.

For all the good it did me.

There were exactly zero hits for ‘Faustino Torini.’ Zilch. Nada. It was like the kid never existed. I figured he might go by a nickname, but had no clue what it might be.

‘Delfina Speranza’ turned up a few dozen hits, but they were all in Italian. Same with ‘Giorgio Torini.’ As far as I could tell, none of these people lived in the United States, or ever had.

I went to bed more confused than ever. It looked like I was going to have to confront my parents after all. But that could wait for morning. I wanted to sleep on it first.

There were so many things I might have done differently. I could have never looked for the birth certificate in the first place. I could have left it where it was, unread. I could have asked Mom and Dad about it. I could have not done all those internet searches. I could have tried more variations on the names.

That last one, as it turns out, was rather important. I didn’t know it at the time, but while ‘Giorgio Torini’ had very few hits, if I had tried ‘George Torini’ I would have found quite a few. Most of them about the time he spent as an accountant for the mob, or the trial of several major Mafioso where he turned state’s evidence, landing them in jail, before he was swept away into the witness protection program with his wife Fina and their infant son.

It’s all a matter of trust, you see. If my parents had trusted me more, they would have already told me the truth. If I had trusted them more, I would have asked them what was going on. Instead, I did a bunch of internet searches that lit up the mob’s watch list like a Christmas tree, all of them traceable directly back to me. And when the front door got kicked in at three in the morning, I didn’t instantly jump out a window and start running, because I didn’t know that I should.

And that, Mr. Mob Hitman, is why I’d really rather you didn’t shoot me right now. I’m having a hard time coming to terms with all of this happening so suddenly and feeling rather vulnerable. I need some time to process.

Maybe you could come back in a couple of weeks and we’ll see how things are going then?

Podcast Contest for Writers Ages 8-13

Calling all #youngwriters – specifically those between 8 and 13 years old. Stone Soup has teamed up with AV Education, which produces the By Kids For Kids – Story Time Podcast. The podcast features stories performed by kids, and now for the first time, written by kids, too!

They are looking for original short stories between 500-1,000 words. For this contest, the theme is climate change. Your challenge: deliver a great story in a fun and accessible style. The Story Time podcast tends towards fantasy, magical, or fairy tale type stories, but any great story is acceptable.

Top prize includes having your story made into a podcast and featured on the Story Time website. First, second, and third prize winners will all have their stories published in Stone Soup as well.

The deadline for entries is April 15.

Check out the Stone Soup contest page for more details and a link to enter your story. Good luck!

C. Wombat

Review: Slayer by Kiersten White

One of my all-time favorite TV series has to be Buffy: The Vampire Slayer. I loved it when it came out, I loved it during reruns, I’ve got all of the DVDs, and I’ve watched them all several times. So, when I saw that a new novel was out set in the Buffyverse, I knew I had to read it.

The Watchers have been training and guiding slayers since time immemorial. There are definite rules and expectations set for slayers by the Watcher Council, and Buffy violated every one of them. When she divorced herself from the Council, Buffy weakened it. Then, two years ago, she broke the magic that called young women to be slayers, unleashing a thousand new slayers on the world, decimating the Watcher Council and throwing the few remaining Watchers into complete disarray. And just two months ago, she destroyed the source of magic itself, shutting off Earth from the demon dimensions, and trapping all that remained.

Needless to say, as the daughter of Watchers, Athena (better known as Nina) is far from pleased with Buffy’s actions. She lives in the tiny enclave of remaining Watchers with her twin sister, Artemis, but knows that she will never be a Watcher herself. She has always been the weaker twin, the less aggressive, and has resigned herself to a life as a medic in the service of the Watchers.

But something happened to Nina when Buffy destroyed Seed of Wonder, infusing her with something she doesn’t understand. Fearing it might be a demonic force, Nina never shared what she felt with anyone, not even her twin. When a hellhound suddenly appears and Nina is forced to kill it with her bare hands, the truth is revealed: not only is Nina now a Slayer, but with no more magic in the world, she is the very last of the Slayer line.

White has done a remarkable job of creating a new story and new beginning within the existing world of Buffy. The feel of Slayer is a bit darker than the first few seasons of the TV series, but it matches well with the later seasons and with the comic book series that followed. At the same time, White weaves in the same style of wry humor that Buffy fans expect. Despite a relatively low number of fight scenes, the book maintains a rapid pace, building a taunt and gripping story that goes beyond violent action; again, just what Buffy fans expect.

But even if you’re completely unfamiliar with everything that has come before, you won’t be lost. Slayer stands alone on its own merit, and makes an excellent read for any fan of urban fantasy.

C. Wombat

You Have Five Senses – Use Them!

When you’re asked to describe something, what is your automatic first response? For most of us, we start talking about how it looks. We focus on light, color, texture.

Many authors are the same way. Their books are full of wonderful visual descriptions of people and places. You can almost see yourself in the picture.

But can you hear the picture? Smell it? We have five senses, and as a writer it’s up to you to use them.

Hearing

Close your eyes for a minute and listen to the world around you. Eyes open again? Good. Okay, so what did you hear?

I hear the quiet whir of my computer’s fan, muffled voices coming through the wall, a distant rumble as the furnace turns on.

What does that tell you about my setting?

Obviously, I’m not at Starbucks. I’m not out dancing, or hanging out with friends, or running for my life from a horde of zombies.

Force your characters to close their eyes and listen. Start with the loud, obvious sounds. A plane flying overhead (or a dragon). A jackhammer. Car horns. Swords crashing against shields.

Not only will your readers learn more about your setting, but your characters will, too. The quiet scuff of a foot on the carpet might be the only thing that saves them from the serial killer sneaking up on them.

Having them hear their completely non-romantic best friend whisper “I love you” can change the entire tone of your book. Be sure to listen for it.

Touch

Very often, we can guess what something feels like just by looking at it, and from past experience. A cat’s fur is usually soft and warm, fire is hot, sandpaper is coarse. We don’t need to touch them to know that.

But there are many things that are less obvious. Run your fingers along the wall-is it smooth, textured, rough, warm, cool, damp, slimy?

Is the ground under your feet hard-packed dirt or soft loam? Is the concrete rough or smooth? Does the sandy beach scorch your bare feet, or push coldly up between your toes?

Touch can be an especially strong tool when it’s unexpected. Elegant looking clothes that turn out stiff and scratchy. A metal doorknob that is burning hot because of a fire on the far side, or icy cold because of a ghost.

Smell

We often ignore our sense of smell because we don’t consider it that important. Just as often, we wish we could ignore it because something really stinks. But as a writer, you need to pay attention, especially when you want to feed your characters vital clues.

The faint whiff of gasoline warns of impending arson. The odor of decay promises that the missing camper is nearby, and not as healthy as you had hoped. The alluring scent of perfume rising from the envelope tells you this isn’t hate mail, but far from it.

Smell is also an incredibly strong provoker of memories. The right smell can send you years into your past, to the heavenly aroma of your grandmother’s kitchen whenever she baked cinnamon rolls, or to the sharp antiseptic bite of the hospital room where you held her hand as she slipped away.

Taste

Taste can be one of the hardest senses to use when building descriptions. Let’s face it, other than when we eat, we don’t rely on our sense of taste much at all. But it shouldn’t be overlooked, either.

When your characters kiss, do they taste salty sweat, cherry lip balm, steel braces, sour unbrushed teeth? A bloody lip may taste salty and metallic. You may taste the ozone from an electrical discharge more than you smell it.

And by all means, when your characters are eating, describe how it tastes, especially if it is new, different, delicious, horrible, anything but normal.

Sight

Naturally, vision is very important, and we should never lose sight of it (pun fully intended). But be sure to look past the surface. Search for those tiny details that take your readers beyond the normal, everyday world and immerse them fully in your creation.

While you could fill a book with descriptions that are purely visual, it will be incomplete. Force your readers to experience your writing with all five of their senses, and you’ll keep them coming back for more.

C. Wombat

Weekend Writing Prompt 2

Describe your house (or somewhere else) using only the senses of hearing, feeling, smell, and taste (no sight!).

If you come up with a good response, please consider sharing it. Complete THIS FORM with your story and some basic info no later than Friday, March 15. I’ll pick my favorite response and share it on the blog the following Friday.

Happy writing, and I look forward to seeing what you come up with!

C. Wombat

Sarah Mook Poetry Contest

Now in its 15th year, the Sarah Mook Poetry Contest is for students in grades K-12. It includes cash prizes of $100, $50, and $25 for first, second, and third place in each category: kindergarten through second grade, third through fifth, sixth through eighth, and ninth through twelfth.

Previous winners may enter again with new poems.

Rules:

• you may enter no more than two poems
• the poems must be your original work
• you must be a K-12 student (entries from homeschooled students are welcome)
• poems may be any length, in any style, and on any subject
• entries must be postmarked by March 31, 2019

Results will be announced in late May.

For more information, entry address, past winners, and judge’s comments, see www.sarahmookpoetrycontest.com.

Review: Beneath the Citadel by Destiny Soria

 Even though the rebellion was decisively crushed four years ago, Cassa and her friends have never given up hope of bringing down the ruling council.

But how do you fight someone who knows the future, who can predict your actions before you even know them yourself? The council of Eldra have ruled for centuries because of the seers and their predictions. Every major event in history, and those yet to come, have been seen and recorded, telling the council exactly what they need to do to retain control.

When random citizens begin to suddenly get struck down, losing all of their memories and becoming nothing but empty shells, Cassa and her friends know they need to act. They hatch a daring plan to sneak into the citadel and gather evidence, but are betrayed and captured before they can even begin their task.

In Beneath the Citadel,being sentenced to death is only the beginning of the story. Soria unfolds a complex tale of plots and counterplots, intrigue, predictions, and outright lies. Nothing is quite what it seems, and it is difficult to tell which side anyone is truly on.

Released in October 2018, this is Soria's second book (her first was Iron Cast).Soria's writing is compelling and draws you forward at a rapid pace, but does not skimp when it comes to crafting a lavishly constructed world and multi-layered characters. The seers and diviners might know what’s coming next, but the reader never does. You won’t want to put it down.

C. Wombat

7 Ways to Boost Your Writing Productivity

Every once in a while, I find myself with extra time on my hands and nothing much to do.

But most of the time, I’m scrambling simply to make it through the day without letting anything important slip. Chances are, you’re in the same boat.

Between school, work, family, clubs, sports, friends, and everything else, there’s often not much time left to write. That means you need to make the most of the limited time you have.

Here are seven tips on getting the most out of your writing time.

Limit Social Media

It’s easy to spend hours on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Snapchat, and other social media platforms. While there’s nothing inherently wrong with social media—many successful authors are on it all the time—it can quickly consume all of your writing time. Don’t let it.

Set yourself a goal: “I can’t go on Instagram until I’ve written 500 words.”

Make sure it’s practical and achievable. If your goal is too hard to reach, you’ll ignore it. But don’t make it too easy, either.

Or instead of a goal, set a time limit. Set your phone’s timer for 15 minutes before you go online. When the timer goes off, it’s time to shut down your apps and get back to writing.

Have a Writing Spot

One of the best ways to focus on writing is to have a special writing spot. Make sure it is comfortable, well enough lit, and quiet enough that you can concentrate.

If possible, pick a spot that you use only for writing. Don’t do anything else there. No email, no texting, no social media. Don’t even read books there. Use it only for writing. By not using that spot for anything else, it can help you focus just on writing whenever you’re there.

Have a Writing Time

With our hectic schedules, it can be tough to pick out one particular time to use for writing every day. But if you can do it, it will help you focus.

It doesn’t matter what time you pick, as long as it works for you. Many writers are best first thing in the morning. Many authors write better just before bed. Right before or after supper is often a good, consistent time.

Naturally, that doesn’t mean you can’t write at other times. But having a consistent time to write ensures you fit at least some writing time into your schedule almost every day.

Take a Break

Does not writing actually make you more productive as a writer? Well, sometimes it can.

If you’re only writing for 15 or 20 minutes a day, breaks aren’t important. But if you do manage to sit down for a longer session, they can make a huge difference. Especially when you’re stuck.

Get up. Stretch. Get a drink or snack. Go for a walk. Exercise not only rejuvenates your body, it helps clear your mind. While you’re being physically active, your mind will relax and the ideas will begin to flow.

Just don’t take so many breaks that you never get any writing done.

Build a Playlist

This one depends a lot on you. Some writers work best when it’s quiet. But many others like to listen to music as they write.

Music speaks to the creative areas of your brain and may be just what you need to get those writing juices flowing.

But not all music works equally well. Your favorite songs, the ones you have to sing along with, may distract you rather than help you. Pick songs that blend into the background.

Select songs that promote a particular mood. Writing something lighthearted and funny? Pick upbeat songs. Writing a zombie apocalypse? Something darker is called for.

Experiment with volume, too. Some people write better to quiet music; others like it loud.

Keep a Journal

A journal is helpful on so many levels. Not only is it good, constant writing practice, but it’s the best place to record all of those great ideas that pop into your head at random times.

Whenever you’re stuck on a story or a scene, flip through your journal. Somewhere in there is the answer. Ideas tucked away into corners weeks, months, or even years ago will leap out at just the right time to get you back on track.

Find a Writing Buddy

Writing by its very nature is a solitary pursuit. Yes, some authors collaborate, but even then, most writing gets done separately. And because writing is solitary, it has some drawbacks.

Most of the time there’s no accountability. Unless you’ve managed to land a paid writing job, there’s no one looking over your shoulder to make sure you’re getting the job done. When you write by yourself, it’s easy to slack off, set the work aside, and not get much accomplished.

A writing buddy is someone who can pester you on a regular basis to see how your story is coming. They are someone you can bounce ideas off of. Once you have finished your story, they can give you feedback. And you do exactly the same to keep them on track, too.

Your writing time is limited. Make the most of it.

Weekend Writing Prompt 1

Your parents accidentally leave something sitting out that you were never meant to discover.

If you come up with a good response, please consider sharing it. Complete THIS FORM with your story and some basic info no later than Friday, March 8. I’ll pick my favorite response and share it on the blog the following Friday.

Happy writing, and I look forward to seeing what you come up with!

Become a Scholastic News Kids Press Reporter

Calling all 10-14 year-olds! Scholastic News is currently seeking its next set of Kids Press Corps reporters for the 2019-2020 year. This is an incredible opportunity to not only showcase your writing, but to get to meet some incredible people and report on amazing stories.

To qualify, you must:

- be at least 10 years old as of August 31, 2019, but not over 14 years old
- complete an application, which includes writing a personal essay and sample news story

All applications are due no later that May 31, 2019. No late applications accepted!

To see the kinds of stories that the Kids Press Corps reports, see their main page at http://kpcnotebook.scholastic.com.

For more details and to apply, see http://kpcnotebook.scholastic.com/page/how-join-scholastic-news-kids-press-corps.