My flash fiction story, "Animal Crackers," was selected for publication by, uh, yeah, Drunk Monkeys. This is a wonderful online magazine "devoted to literature and film." Pretty cool. The publication date has not been set, but I'll let you know when my story goes up.
Finally—the re-write's done!
Draft 16/17/18/whateverIhavelostcount of my novel, Reckless Joy, has hit "the end!" What a long 7/8/9 years it's been, ay? There's still much work to do, but I'm taking a wee rest while the draft is in the hands of my most trusted reader.
Writing a novel can be unwieldy. How do you keep track of characters, plots, arcs—all the pieces that complete the whole?
One of the tools I used was a genogram to provide visual cues to the relationships and connections among the characters. I kept the genogram on my desk, where it served to remind me of the novel's complexities at a glance.
Eons ago, while in graduate school for a psychology degree, I was taught to use genograms to assess family dynamics. We used these charts to record the relationships of family members, along with divorces, miscarriages, affairs, addiction, abuse, heredity, and psychological factors that illuminated familial relationships.
If you've worked on your family tree, you've likely used a simplistic genogram to illustrate it.
In the graphic below, the genogram is not complete—no story spoilers! It does provide a list of the characters in the story. If you're writing a novel, I highly recommend creating a genogram for your characters.
How long is a novel? Eighty to a hundred flash fiction stories, fifteen to twenty short stories, eight to ten full-length plays.
July without June
For those of you paying attention: there was no June newsletter.
June was spent deeply engrossed in the rewrite of the final chapters of Reckless Joy. I also had an unexpected dental emergency, a story in and of itself. No worries, all is now well.
Meanwhile, we've gotten out more around town and had vaccinated friends over for eats, drinks, and conversation. More such nights and days to come. What a joy!
Do I have to write a caveat that the pandemic ain't over yet? Get vaccinated, please!
Patience could easily be the word for the year, much like it was last year. Or, perhaps two words: MORE PATIENCE as we venture forth and find places still closed, partially opened, or not performing as they once did.
In January, I assigned myself a word for 2021—
I used to feel loving the world was easy. It took me over sixty years to learn it's tough to love the world, to love the humans that reside among us. Yet love is never more necessary, and perhaps what we're here to do.
Love doesn't mean acceptance of racism, hate, or the destruction of Democracy. Love means the willingness to look for the humanness within everyone, even those who seem so vile, so hard, so inhuman.
True goodness is like water. Water’s good for everything. It doesn’t compete.
It goes right to the low loathsome places, and so finds the way. —Excerpt from Tao Te Ching, Ursula K. LeGuin
Stay kind and curious about the world, my friends! Thank you for reading.—JD
My stories often explore loss, grief, interconnectedness, and how—or if—we come back together after we've been driven apart. I'm deeply interested in life in all its forms (human, animal, feathered, not); concerned about our humanity and our survival both practically and spiritually.—JD Eames
1704 Llano St, Ste B-1483 Santa Fe, NM 87505 United States
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