July 18, 2025 · 6:00 am

#FineArtFriday: a closer look at “The Netherlandish Proverbs” by Pieter Brueghel the Elder

I love this painting and all the crazy imagery that witty, sarcastic, and distinctly un-noble Pieter Brueghel the elder. stuffed into it. I first discussed this painting on May 4, 2018, but it has been on my mind since last week when we looked at a seascape by the same artist.

I love a good allegorical painting, especially when the artist has a point to make. Brueghel the Elder, had a wicked sense of humor, and he wasn’t shy about pointing out the many hypocrisies and foibles of the society around him.

I consider this one of the best, most hilarious allegorical paintings of all time. The Netherlandish Proverbs (also known as The Dutch Proverbs) by Pieter Brueghel the Elder, was painted in 1559. I’ll just say that Pieter Brueghel the Elder is one of my favorite artists.

Quote from Wikipedia:

Critics have praised the composition for its ordered portrayal and integrated scene. There are approximately 112 identifiable proverbs and idioms in the scene, although Bruegel may have included others which cannot be determined because of the language change. Some of those incorporated in the painting are still in popular use, for instance “Swimming against the tide”, “Banging one’s head against a brick wall” and “Armed to the teeth”. Many more have faded from use, which makes analysis of the painting harder. “Having one’s roof tiled with tarts”, for example, which meant to have an abundance of everything and was an image Bruegel would later feature in his painting of the idyllic Land of Cockaigne (1567).

The Blue Cloak, the piece’s original title, features in the centre of the piece and is being placed on a man by his wife, indicating that she is cuckolding him. Other proverbs indicate human foolishness. A man fills in a pond after his calf has died. Just above the central figure of the blue-cloaked man another man carries daylight in a basket. Some of the figures seem to represent more than one figure of speech (whether this was Bruegel’s intention or not is unknown), such as the man shearing a sheep in the centre bottom left of the picture. He is sitting next to a man shearing a pig, so represents the expression “One shears sheep and one shears pigs”, meaning that one has the advantage over the other, but may also represent the advice “Shear them but don’t skin them”, meaning make the most of available assets.

You can find all of the wonderful proverbs on the painting’s page on Wikipedia, along with the thumbnail that depicts the proverb.

My favorite proverbs in this wonderful allegory?

Horse droppings are not figs. It meant we should not be fooled by appearances.

He who eats fire, craps sparks. It meant we shouldn’t be surprised at the outcome if we attempt a dangerous venture.

Now THAT is wisdom!

ABOUT THE ARTIST, via Wikipedia:

Pieter Bruegel (also Brueghel or Breughel) the Elder, 1525–1530 to 9 September 1569) was among the most significant artists of Dutch and Flemish Renaissance painting, a painter and printmaker, known for his landscapes and peasant scenes (so-called genre painting); he was a pioneer in presenting both types of subject as large paintings.

Van Mander records that before he died he told his wife to burn some drawings, perhaps designs for prints, carrying inscriptions “which were too sharp or sarcastic … either out of remorse or for fear that she might come to harm or in some way be held responsible for them”, which has led to much speculation that they were politically or doctrinally provocative, in a climate of sharp tension in these areas. [2]

Credits and Attributions:

The Netherlandish Proverbs (Also known as The Dutch Proverbs) by Pieter Brueghel the Elder 1559 [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

[1] Wikipedia contributors, “Netherlandish Proverbs,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Netherlandish_Proverbs&oldid=829168138  (accessed July 16, 2025).

[2] Wikipedia contributors, “Pieter Bruegel the Elder,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Pieter_Bruegel_the_Elder&oldid=1299614602 (accessed July 16, 2025).

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July 14, 2025 · 6:00 am

Constructing the Short Story: theme #writing

I often find myself writing short pieces. These are scenes and mini stories that don’t really fit into a novel but are on my creative mind. Writing a short story gives me the chance to explore an idea that might be inspired by my longer work, but would muddy the waters if I included it there.

Many of my works are series, each set in a world of my creation. Writing short stories helps me develop that world. As a side benefit, it develops characters and plots I will definitely use later.

But what about stand-alone short stories? I usually submit them to contests, online magazines, and themed anthologies. The editor of the anthology ensures that each story she accepts explores an aspect of a single unifying theme.

And truthfully, having a theme to write to kickstarts my imagination.

According to Wikipedia:

A theme is not the same as the subject of a work. For example, the subject of Star Wars is ‘the battle for control of the galaxy between the Galactic Empire and the Rebel Alliance.’

The themes explored in the films might be “moral ambiguity” or “the conflict between technology and nature.” [1]

When we submit our manuscript to an editor with an open call for themed work, we must demonstrate our understanding of how the central theme can be manipulated to tell a story. Of course, engaging prose and a unique voice make a story stand out.

When you plan a story, analyze the theme. Look beyond the obvious tropes and find an original angle, and then go for it. As an author, most of my novels have been epic or medieval fantasy, based around the hero’s journey, detailing how their experiences shape the characters’ reactions and personal growth.

The hero’s journey is a theme that allows me to employ the sub-themes of brother/sisterhood and love of family.

Other layers of the story are strengthened when supported by a strong theme. Subtle use of allegory and imagery in set dressing can help strengthen the theme without beating the reader over the head.

In a story, the theme is introduced, either subtly or overtly, at the first plot point. If we’re writing a short story, this must happen on the first page. Most open calls for short stories require us to meet a specific word count. If so, lengthy lead-ins are not possible, as manuscripts that exceed the word count will be rejected.

I find it is easier to meet that wordcount when I know in advance how a story will end. I am a linear thinker, so I make an outline of my intended story arc.

  • I am an outliner, a planner, because when I “pants” it, I end up with a mushy plot that wanders all over the place and a story that isn’t commercially viable.

To create my outline, I divide my story arc into quarters. This ensures the critical events are in place at the right time. Then, I ask myself several questions about the story as I first imagine it. This will evolve, but it offers my creative mind a jumping off point.

  • What is the inciting incident? How does it relate to the theme?
  • What is the goal/objective? How does it relate to the theme?
  • At the beginning of the story, what does the hero want so badly that she will risk everything to acquire it? Why?
  • Who is the antagonist? What do they want and why?
  • What moral (or immoral) choice will our hero have to make? This is the real story, and how does it relate to the theme?
  • What is happening at the midpoint? Why does the antagonist have the upper hand?
  • At the ¾ point, my protagonist should have gathered her resources and be ready to face the antagonist. How can I choreograph that meeting?
  • How does the underlying theme affect every aspect of the protagonists’ evolution in this story?

I have mentioned before that in my own writing life, dumping too much background is my greatest first-draft challenge. Writing short stories has helped me find ways to write more concisely.

An outline keeps me on track. What is essential for the reader to know, and when should they learn it? What is just info for me to cut and save in the outtakes file?

Short stories follow a single event in a character’s life. Each word must advance that one story thread. Having your work beta read by your critique group will help you identify those places that need to be trimmed down.

I have close friends who see my work first and who help me see what the real story is before I bother my editor with it. My beta readers are published authors in my writing group.

Because I am a wordy writer, I have to keep in mind that (especially in a short story) every word is precious and must be used to the greatest effect. By shaving away the unneeded info in the short story, I can expand on the theme of the story and how it drives the plot.

Credits and Attributions:

Wikipedia contributors, ‘Theme (arts),’ Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Theme_(arts)&oldid=848540721(accessed July 12, 2025).

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July 11, 2025 · 6:00 am

#FineArtFriday: Naval Battle in the Gulf of Naples by Pieter Bruegel the Elder ca. 1556 – 1558

Artist: Pieter Brueghel the Elder (1526/1530–1569)

Title: View of the Bay of Naples

Description: English: Bruegel — Naval Battle in the Gulf of Naples

Date: 1556 / circa 1558 / between 1550 and 1559

Medium: oil on panel

Dimensions: height: 42.2 cm (16.6 in)

Collection: Galleria Doria Pamphilj

What I love about this painting:

Bruegel shows us a stylized version of the Battle of the Gulf of Naples, which took place some three hundred year before the time of his painting. It was a historic victory for Roger of Lauria, who commanded the Aragonese – Sicilian fleet against the Angevin – Neopolitan fleet, led by Prince Charles of Salerno.

Pieter Bruegel the Elder was famous for inserting subtle political and (sometimes snide) social commentaries into his paintings, and also for creating fantasy landscapes that he peopled with his contemporary peasants and tradesfolk. Many of his paintings that are set in his native Brabant feature mountains – and the Netherlands is a flat country, one that has no mountains.

In this painting he gives us a fantasy naval battle, featuring the sort of ships he was familiar with, and canon fire. Some ships are sinking, and others are closing in on them. He knew what ships looked like but had never actually seen a battle at sea.

About this painting, via Wikipedia:

Bruegel traveled to the Italian peninsula, with Abraham Ortelius, in 1551 and 1553. They stopped in Rome, Naples, and Messina. Many drawings were produced, including one depicting a naval confrontation in the Straits of Messina, which was turned into an engraving by Frans Huys. The veduta takes historical and topographical licenses: no such battle occurred in precisely this setting, nor does the harbor resemble Bruegel’s depiction. The exact date of the composition is disputed; scholars do agree, however, that the volcano and its positioning seem to reflect Bruegel’s neoplatonic pantheism.

In the foreground, a naval battle is perhaps taking place; it involves several vessels (sailing ships, galleys and smaller rowing boats), amidst puffs of smoke and barely legible trajectories of cannonballs, which make it difficult to unambiguously define the scene.

The background of the painting is the Gulf of Naples, with Mount Vesuvius visible at the right; it is depicted with a raised horizon, over half the painting, typical of the Flemish artists, which allows the view to have a particularly broad scope. Several monuments can be recognized: on the left, the remains of Castel del’Ovo, the Castel Nuovo, the lost Torre San Vincenzo and the semicircular piers. The last detail is an imaginative creation of the artist, since in the topographical maps of the time the port appears to be rectangular in shape: this “softening” perhaps derives from his wish to make the view more elegant and dynamic. [1]

ABOUT THE AUTHOR, via Wikipedia Commons:

Pieter Bruegel (also Brueghel or Breughel) the Elder, 1525–1530 to 9 September 1569) was among the most significant artists of Dutch and Flemish Renaissance painting, a painter and printmaker, known for his landscapes and peasant scenes (so-called genre painting); he was a pioneer in presenting both types of subject as large paintings.

Van Mander records that before he died he told his wife to burn some drawings, perhaps designs for prints, carrying inscriptions “which were too sharp or sarcastic … either out of remorse or for fear that she might come to harm or in some way be held responsible for them”, which has led to much speculation that they were politically or doctrinally provocative, in a climate of sharp tension in these areas. [2]]

Credits and Attributions:

IMAGE: Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:Bruegel — Naval Battle in the Gulf of Naples.jpg,” WikimediaCommons, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:Bruegel_%E2%80%94_Naval_Battle_in_the_Gulf_of_Naples.jpg&oldid=1037815605 (accessed July 9, 2025).

[1] Wikipedia contributors, “Naval Battle in the Gulf of Naples,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Naval_Battle_in_the_Gulf_of_Naples&oldid=1292197650 (accessed July 11, 2025).

[2] ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Wikipedia contributors, “Pieter Bruegel the Elder,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Pieter_Bruegel_the_Elder&oldid=1299614602 (accessed July 9, 2025).

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July 7, 2025 · 6:00 am

Deciding the right chapter length #writing

I was recently asked what I think the right chapter length should be in a novel. We haven’t talked about this in a while, so today is as good a day as any.

I like it when an author considers the comfort of their readers. Many readers, including me, want to finish a chapter in one sitting. We rarely have the time to sit and read all day, no matter that we wish we could.

With that said, you must decide what your style is, and it will evolve as your writing career progresses.

Over the years, I’ve read and enjoyed many books where the authors made each scene a chapter, even if it was only two or three hundred words long. They ended up with over 100 chapters in their books, but because their story was so engaging, I barely noticed it.

In several seminars I’ve attended, the presenters suggested that we should have a specific word count limit for chapter length. One suggested 1500, while another said not more than 2500.

One of my favorite authors sometimes has chapters of only five or six hundred words, which keeps each character’s storyline separate and flows well. For my style of storytelling, 1,500 to 2,500 words is a good length.

As a reader, I have noticed that successful authors are careful to ensure that each chapter details the events of one scene or several closely related incidents. Chapters are like paragraphs in that cramming too many disparate ideas into one place makes the narrative feel erratic and disconnected.

My novel, Julian Lackland, has longer chapters. This is because the story arc details important events occurring over forty years of Julian’s life.

The novel follows the chronological order of his life, and the chapters detail the incidents that profoundly changed him. I inserted hard breaks within each chapter whenever a scene ended and a softer transition would have lent confusion to the narrative.

What is a soft transition? Conversations make good transitions to propel the story forward to the next scene. They also offer ways to end a chapter with a tidbit of information that will compel the reader to turn the page. Information is crucial, so we want to provide it when the protagonist and the reader require it.

Fade-to-black and hard scene breaks: I only use fade-to-black transitions as a finish to a chapter, as they leave the reader with something to think about.

Time must be considered too. When a real chunk of time has passed between the end of one scene and the beginning of the next, I suggest giving the scene a firm finish with a hook. That leads the reader to continue on to the next chapter.

With each scene, we push all the main characters forward and raise the stakes for each of them a little more. The action and dissemination of information entertain the reader. Good transitions allow the reader to reflect and absorb the information gained before moving on to the next scene.

This brings me to how the narrative point of view can influence the length of a scene or chapter. Some editors suggest you change chapters, no matter how short, when you switch to a different character’s point of view.

I (somewhat) agree with this stance, as a hard transition when you switch narrator-characters is the best way to avoid head-hopping and subsequent confusion.

But what is head-hopping? When you change the narrative point-of-view in the same scene, one paragraph to the next with no definite separation, you create a “viewpoint tennis match.”

First, you’re in Character A’s head hearing her thoughts, then you’re in Character B’s head hearing his. Then you’re back in A’s head. It becomes challenging to know who is speaking or thinking.

Also, the characters tend to lose their individuality. They begin to sound the same, further muddying the scene.

That is not to say that you should never switch viewpoints within a chapter. Sometimes, more than one character has a perspective that needs to be shown. However, readers will find it easier to follow the narrative if you are careful with how you handle the change of narrator.

One of the problems some readers have with Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time Series is the way he wanders between storylines as if he couldn’t decide who the main character is. Rand al’Thor begins as the protagonist, but the narrative soon wanders far away from him as Matrim, Perrin, Nynaeve, Elayne, Aviendha, and Egwene are given prime storylines. Each thread comes together in the end, but this is the main criticism of the series.

I’m a dedicated WoT fan, but even I found that exceedingly annoying by the time we reached book eight, Path of Daggers. I was halfway through reading that book when I realized there was a good chance that we would never see Rand do what he was reborn to do.

I try to concentrate on developing a single compelling, well-rounded main character, with the side characters well-developed but not upstaging the star. I kept reading the entire WoT series because Jordan’s (and later Sanderson’s) writing was brilliant, and the world and the events were intriguing.

It’s easier for the reader to follow the story when they are confined to one character’s perspective for the majority of the narrative. If you choose to switch POV characters, I suggest using a hard, visual break, such as two blank spaces between paragraphs or ending the chapter.

Now we come to a commonly asked question: Should I use numbers, or give each chapter a name?

What is your gut feeling for how you want to construct this book or series? If snappy titles pop up in your mind for each chapter, by all means, go for it. Otherwise, numbered chapters are perfectly fine and don’t throw the reader out of the book. Whichever style of chapter heading you choose, be consistent and stay with that choice for the entire book.

To wind this up: Limit your point of view characters to one per scene. Each chapter should detail events that are related, rather than a jumble of unrelated happenings.

When it comes to chapter length, you must make the decision as to the right length and end chapters at a logical place. But do end each chapter with a hook that entices the reader to continue reading.

 

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July 4, 2025 · 6:00 am

#FineArtFriday: Seaport at sunset by Claude Lorrain 1682

Artist: Claude Lorrain (1604/1605–1682)

Title:   Seaport at sunset

Genre: landscape painting

Date: 1639

Medium: oil on canvas

Dimensions: height: 1 m (40.5 in); width: 1.3 m (53.9 in)

What I love about this painting:

Wow! Where to start? This is what true genius looks like. The overall scene is masterfully done, one of the best seascapes I have seen. The waters are calm, allowing for goods and passengers to be transferred safely to shore. The sky is that incredible quality that nature sometimes offers us on a summer evening. A haze is rising, and ships are still entering the harbor, waiting for their turn to offload their cargoes and passengers. Waves lap softly at the shore, a gentle rhythm.

Claude shows us a thriving, prosperous seaport under a glorious sunset. In fact, the scenery is so beautiful, it’s easy to overlook the dramas playing out in the foreground. However, we shouldn’t, as that is where the real story he wanted to show us lies.

In the bottom left, a family is seated on an upturned boat. Are they waiting to board a ship? They seem to be musicians, as the man plays a cittern, and a lute rests beside the woman and child, along with a pile of baggage.

To their right, a pair of merchants discuss business with a foreign trader, whose clothing suggests he is from Persia. Are they negotiating the purchase of rare spices? Or are they attempting to sell him something?

In the bottom center, violence has erupted as a pair of ruffians have decided to settle their dispute the old-fashioned way. Sailors on shore leave? Too much to drink? Fighting over a woman? The onlookers are disgusted but do not step in to break it up. Apparently, someone “had it coming.”

To the right of the combatants and knot of friends, a pair of well-dressed men, one seated on an upturned boat and one standing, are clearly waiting for something. Perhaps these people are all waiting to board the same ship.

And finally, on the far right, we have several ships, accompanied by small boats called tenders, which are going to and from them. In the foreground, sailors row tenders to the strand. Will our passengers be rowed out to board their ship? This is a bustling harbor, and it’s clear that berths along the quayside are at a premium. Perhaps, rather than paying for a berth when his cargo consists of passengers rather than goods, this ship’s owner keeps his costs down by bringing supplies on board by tender and ferrying passengers to and from the shore.

Claude’s glorious sunset hints that hope lies beyond the horizon. Are the passengers embarking on a journey to the New World? Perhaps they are going to India, or even to the French colonies in the South Pacific. Wherever they are going, I hope their journey is peaceful and ends well.

About the artist, via Wikipedia:

Claude Lorrain (born Claude Gellée), called le Lorrain in French; traditionally just Claude in English; c. 1600 – 23 November 1682) was a painter, draughtsman and etcher of the Baroque era originally from the Duchy of Lorraine. He spent most of his life in Italy, and is one of the earliest significant artists, aside from his contemporaries in Dutch Golden Age painting, to concentrate on landscape painting. His landscapes often transitioned into the more prestigious genre of history paintings by addition of a few small figures, typically representing a scene from the Bible or classical mythology. [1]

To learn more about this artist go to Claude Lorrain – Wikipedia

Credits and Attributions:

IMAGE: Seaport at sunset by Claude Lorrain 1682. Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:F0087 Louvre Gellee port au soleil couchant- INV4715 rwk.jpg,” Wikimedia Commons, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:F0087_Louvre_Gellee_port_au_soleil_couchant-_INV4715_rwk.jpg&oldid=967103912 (accessed June 27, 2025).

[1] Wikipedia contributors, “Claude Lorrain,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Claude_Lorrain&oldid=1298367934 (accessed July 2, 2025).

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June 30, 2025 · 6:00 am

A few of the many things I wish I had known about #writing

I have always thought of myself as a writer. During the 1970s and into the early 1990s, my pen and ink ramblings were poems and random scenes that contained ideas that later evolved into full-fledged short stories.

My typewriter sat beside the hamster cage in the corner of the kitchen (a poor placement choice). While my kids did homework, I pecked away at short stories.

Eventually, I acquired a secondhand computer and began writing a novel. Five years and 225,000 words later, I had a rambling mess on my hands that would never be finished.

I didn’t know what to do with it. I couldn’t figure out how to end it, and it was filled with grammar and punctuation errors. I had no idea how to make it look professional, as I had never heard of “industry standards.” My enthusiasm exceeded my knowledge and ability, and I didn’t know how to rectify the problem.

In 1990, a book that would change my life was featured in the Science Fiction Book Club catalog: “How to Write Science Fiction and Fantasy” by Orson Scott Card. The day that book arrived in my mailbox was the day I embarked on my quest to learn everything I could about the craft of writing.

I’m still learning. Since acquiring that book, I have amassed a library on the craft. Some are brilliant, while others are not, but I always learn something.

Diving into the deep end of writing contests and seeking a publisher can be both scary and wonderful. Every experience, good and bad, educates you just a little more. What follows are a few things I wish I had known in 2010 when I was directed to the (now defunct) organization that was NaNoWriMo. and began this journey in earnest.

One: Make a style sheet (also known as a storyboard or bible) as you go.

Build a glossary of words and spellings unique to your story and be sure to list names. I use an Excel spreadsheet, but you can use any tool you like to help you stay consistent with your spelling.

And even though I work at developing a thorough glossary, my editor will find many words to add to it.

Two: Nothing hurts worse than completely losing an entire manuscript. Develop a logical, consistent system for naming your files. Save your document regularly and back up your files to an external thumb drive or to the cloud.

Save each version of your manuscript in its own master file, and give each subfile a different name so you can go back and retrieve bits you may need later. I use a system like this:

  • The master file might be titled: Lauras_Story
  • The subfile might be L_S_V5.docx

That stands for Laura’s Story version five. I work out of Word, so the extension is automatically a docx. Each master file will contain many subfiles before a story or book is published.

Three: Find a local group of writers to meet with and talk about the craft.

Authors need to network with other authors because we need to discuss the craft with someone whose eyes don’t glaze over.

I found a fantastic local group by attending write-ins for NaNoWriMo. The Tuesday Morning Rebel Writers have my back, and I have theirs. Since the pandemic, and with several of our members now on the opposite side of Washington State, we meet weekly via Zoom. We are a group of authors who write in a wide variety of genres.

Yes, we help each other bring new books into the world through beta reading and critiquing. But more than that, we are good, close friends who support each other through life’s twists and turns.

Four: Never stop educating yourself. It requires dedication and a small investment of money, but you can do it.

Learn how to say what you mean with your unique voice and style. A college education may be out of reach, but you can buy books on grammar, style, substance, and writing craft.

Learn about structure and pacing from successful authors. Spend the money to attend conventions and seminars. You will learn so much about the craft of writing, the genre you write in, and the publishing industry as a whole. These are things you can only learn from other authors.

Five: Don’t even consider signing with the slick-talking publisher that contacts you out of the blue.

In 2010, I made my word count and became a firm believer in the principle that was behind the founding concept of NaNoWriMo. If you sit down and write at least 1,667 words every day, you will complete the first draft of your novel in 30 days. If you have a community of like-minded authors to encourage you, you are more likely to succeed. That is what NaNoWriMo was originally intended to be, as Chris Baty envisioned.

I didn’t know that while a novel might have the complete story arc, it isn’t finished.

Here is where experience can be a painful teacher. The year that followed was filled with serious mistakes and naïve bungling.

Legitimate publishers NEVER contact you. You must submit your work to them, and they prefer to work with agented authors. I didn’t know this. I placed my book in the hands of someone who was not qualified to publish. 2011 was filled with low points, ending with a devastating falling out with my publisher. Fortunately, I retained the rights to my work.

Authors are perfect targets for predators. Be smart. Ask yourself how a publisher could possibly want work they haven’t seen? And why should you pay them for “editing” or any other aspect of publishing? And how did they get your email address?

Make use of SFWA’s Writer Beware site. Predator publishers profit from our deep desire to be published. They will charge you for services they don’t provide and publish your work in its raw, unedited form, and you will never see a dime.

Six: even though you’re writing that novel, keep writing short stories, too.

Short stories and micro-fiction are a training ground, a way to hone your skills. Submitting your work to magazines, anthologies, and contests is the best way to get it published. Each story that gets published increases your visibility, and you develop a reputation as a reliable author. I suggest building a backlog of work ranging from 100 to 5,000 words in length. Keep them ready to submit whenever magazines, anthologies, or contests announce a call for submissions.

Remember, every scene and vignette that rolls through your head can be made into something you can use.

Get the Submittable App and start submitting your work, and don’t let rejections stop you. Keep sending that work to new places because someone will want it.

Seven: Never Stop Reading. I say this all the time. Read widely and in all genres. Read critically and apply what you learn about writing, both good and bad, to your work.

These are a few of the many things that I wish I had known when I first started writing professionally but didn’t.

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June 27, 2025 · 6:00 am

#FineArtFriday: a closer look at “Forest Landscape” by Jan Brueghel the Elder

Title: Forest landscape

Artist: Jan Brueghel the Elder

Genre: landscape art

Date: between circa 1605 and circa 1610

Medium: oil on oak panel

Dimensions: 40 x 32 cm

What I love about this painting:

Today, we’re taking a closer look at the works of the Flemish artist, Jan Brueghel the Elder. I first featured this painting in July of 2020, and it is one that I love. The scene is peaceful and relaxing, a moment of calm for our turbulent times.

The level of detail down to the leaves and the bark on the trees is amazing, but the rich colors are what attracted me, drawing me in. The heron on the rock seems poised to take flight.  Beyond the heron, on the other side of the creek, a path leads deeper into the forest, calling to us to cross over and see where it leads. The scene is beautiful the way a fantasy is, likely because Brueghel most probably painted it from sketches and memory.

“In his forest landscapes Brueghel depicted heavily wooded glades in which he captured the verdant density, and even mystery, of the forest. Although on occasion inhabited by humans and animals, these forest scenes contain dark recesses, virtually no open sky and no outlet for the eye to penetrate beyond the thick trees.” via Wikipedia. [1]

In many ways, Jan Brueghel’s paradise landscapes paved the way for the great plein air painters of the 18th and 19th centuries. This is most definitely a Mannerist landscape painting, as it is highly romanticized.

About the Artist, via Wikipedia:

Jan Brueghel (also Bruegel or Breughel) the Elder  (1568 – 13 January 1625) was a Flemish painter and draughtsman. He was the son of the eminent Flemish Renaissance painter Pieter Brueghel the Elder. A close friend and frequent collaborator with Peter Paul Rubens, the two artists were the leading Flemish painters in the first three decades of the 17th century.

Brueghel worked in many genres including history paintings, flower still lifes, allegorical and mythological scenes, landscapes and seascapes, hunting pieces, village scenes, battle scenes and scenes of hellfire and the underworld.

He was an important innovator who invented new types of paintings such as flower garland paintings, paradise landscapes, and gallery paintings in the first quarter of the 17th century.

He also created genre paintings that were imitations, pastiches and reworkings of his father’s works, in particular his father’s genre scenes and landscapes with peasants.  Brueghel represented the type of the pictor doctus, the erudite painter whose works are informed by the religious motifs and aspirations of the Catholic Counter-Reformation as well as the scientific revolution with its interest in accurate description and classification.  He was court painter of the Archduke and Duchess Albrecht and Isabella, the governors of the Habsburg Netherlands.

The artist was nicknamed “Velvet” Brueghel, “Flower” Brueghel, and “Paradise” Brueghel. The first is believed to have been given him because of his mastery in the rendering of fabrics. The second nickname is a reference to his specialization in flower still lifes and the last one to his invention of the genre of the paradise landscape. [1]

Credits and Attributions:

IMAGE: Forest Landscape by Jan Brueghel the Elder / Public domain Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:Jan Brueghel (I) – Forest landscape.jpg,” Wikimedia Commons, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:Jan_Brueghel_(I)_-_Forest_landscape.jpg&oldid=1036257842 (accessed June 26, 2025).

[1] Wikipedia contributors, “Jan Brueghel the Elder,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Jan_Brueghel_the_Elder&oldid=1293540600 (accessed June 26, 2025).

 

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June 23, 2025 · 6:00 am

Employing contrast in the architecture of a story #writing

There is a quote from the Buddha that I have found especially true for creating a great story. “There has to be evil so that good can prove its purity above it.”

J.R.R. Tolkien understood this quite clearly. His work was written in a highly literate style that everyone understood a century ago. Reading the Lord of the Rings trilogy requires commitment, and today, fewer readers are willing to undertake it.

Tolkien employs contrasts throughout the length of his stories. He shows the peace and prosperity that Frodo enjoys and then asks him to choose his destiny. Frodo chooses the difficult path. Tolkien takes the hobbit and all the central characters through many personal changes. He forces them to face their fears, gives them reasons to continue, to not give up.

Frodo’s story is about good and evil, war and peace, and the hardships endured in the effort to destroy the One Ring and negate the power of Sauron. So why would ordinary middle-class hobbits living comfortable lives go to so much trouble if Sauron’s evil posed no threat to their peace and prosperity?

They do it because they can see that in the long run, Sauron’s orcs would overrun the Shire and destroy everything good and beautiful.

Lengthwise, the three books aren’t as long as people make them out to be, especially when compared to Robert Jordan and Brandon Sanderson’s long and winding 15-book Wheel of Time series (comprised of 4,410,036 words) or Tad Williams’ epic and highly literate Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn series (comprised of 1,121,720 words).

Tolkien’s trilogy totals only 455,175 words, which is considered an optimal length for a debut series in the epic fantasy genre. Fans of epic fantasy like and expect long books with large stories.

Whenever I talk about what we can learn from Tolkien, someone will respond that Tolkien wrote in a style that 21st-century readers find frustrating. Certainly, he used more words than a modern writer would dare to. A 21st century writer would face the slings and arrows of the modern critique group.

But while his style is more wordy than modern taste, his work is still compelling. He still has plenty to say that can resonate with us. In the process, he takes us on a journey with side quests and an epic, wonderful ending that was somehow left out of the movies – the Scouring of the Shire.

Hint: Yes, reading the books requires persistence, but if you want the real story and don’t have the time or patience, the audiobooks, as narrated by Andy Serkis (who played the role of Gollum in the movies), are a must-listen.

With the Ballantine Books paperback edition in 1965, J.R.R. Tolkien brought epic fantasy to my generation of college students. In the 1970’s, in my college town, the graffiti in downtown Olympia read “Frodo Lives.”  Frodo Lives! – Wikipedia

But how did Tolkien’s style of storytelling influence the genre as we know it today? For that, we take a look at Tad Williams’s masterpiece, The Dragonbone Chair. It’s the first book in the fantasy series Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn. It was published in 1988 and hooked me.

Williams takes the fourteen-year-old Simon, a kitchen boy, and Miriamele, a princess, and gives them an epic quest. He brings them together and then forces them down separate paths that eventually rejoin. Along the way, they grow into adulthood, and what they learn about themselves is both bitter and wonderful.

I read The Dragonbone Chair when it first came out in paperback. I loved it so much, I had to re-read it immediately upon finishing.

In both the Lord of the Rings trilogy and Tad Williams’ Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn, we have two of the most enduring works of modern fantasy fiction. Both feature an epic central quest and side quests, all of which must be completed for the protagonists to arrive at the final resolution.

In both series, we have moments of joy and contentment sharply contrasted with events causing terrible deprivation and loss. Each event urges us to keep reading, inspiring the deepest emotions and the desire to find out what happens next.

This use of contrast is fundamental to the fables and sagas that humans have been telling since before the discovery of fire. Contrast is why Tolkien’s work is the foundation upon which modern epic fantasy is built. The way Tad Williams wrote his characters, and his trimmed down prose further modernized the genre, but he kept the tropes of an engaging narrative, epic quests, and diverse fantasy cultures and races.

When the author employs the highs and lows of our human experience to tell their story, the reader empathizes with the characters. They live the story as if they were the protagonist.

And what about contrasts in world-building? It can be shown in subtle ways.

Juxtaposing plenty and poverty in your worldbuilding shows the backstory without requiring an info dump. Contrast and good pacing turns a wall of words into something worth reading.

In our real world, war, famine, and floods are followed by times of relative peace and plenty. The emotions and experiences of people living through all those times are the real stories.

This is not just a concept found in fantasy novels; it’s a part of our human history and our future.

We shouldn’t limit our reading to the old favorites that started us on this writing path. You may not love the novels on the NY Times literary fiction bestseller list, but it’s a good idea to read one or two of them every now and then as a means of educating yourself. We learn the architecture of stories by reading and dissecting novels and short stories written by the masters, both famous and infamous.

What you don’t like is as important as what you enjoy. Why would a book that you dislike be so successful? No matter how much money a publisher throws at them, some books are stinkers.

You don’t need to pay for books you won’t like. Go to the library or to the secondhand bookstore and see what they have from the NYT bestseller list that you would be willing to examine.

Give that book a postmortem.

  • Did the book have a distinct plot arc?
  • Did it have a strong opening that hooked you?
  • Was there originality in the way the characters and situations were presented?
  • Did you like the protagonist and other main characters? Why or why not?
  • Were you able to suspend your disbelief?
  • Did the narrative contain enough contrasts to keep things interesting?
  • By the end of the book, did the characters grow and change within their personal arc? How were they changed?
  • What sort of transitions did the author employ that made you want to turn the page? How can you use that kind of transition in your own work?
  • Did you get a satisfying ending? If not, how could it have been made better?

Reading and dissecting the works of successful authors is a necessary component of any education in the craft of writing.

When you read a book that you like or dislike, think about how you can apply what you learn to your own work.

I say this regularly, but I must repeat it – getting an education about the craft of writing is important. If you have a good library in your town, this sort of education is free, a price that fits my budget perfectly. What I learn from the masters helps me to plan the pacing, helps me balance the emotions and events in my own stories.

 

 

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June 20, 2025 · 6:00 am

#FineArtFriday: Summer, field of poppies by Claude Monet 1875

Artist: Claude Monet (1840–1926)

Title: Français : L’été. Champ de coquelicots

English: Summer, field of poppies

Deutsch: Sommer. Klatschmohnfeld

Date:   1875

Medium: oil on canvas

Dimensions: height: 60 cm (23.6 in); width: 81 cm (31.8 in)

Collection: Private collection

What I love about this painting:

Claude Monet’s gift for bringing in the beauty of nature shines in this painting. He shows us a warm day in high summer, with fluffy white clouds sailing across blue skies. The wild poppies have taken root in a fallow field, and are mingled in with the tall field-grass. A woman and two children have come to pick wildflowers in the meadow. One can almost hear the buzzing of bees as they go about their business mingling with the occasional birdsong.

I would love to have walked in that field.

About the Artist, via Wikipedia:

Oscar-Claude Monet: 14 November 1840 – 5 December 1926) was a French painter and founder of Impressionism painting who is seen as a key precursor to modernism, especially in his attempts to paint nature as he perceived it.[1] During his long career, he was the most consistent and prolific practitioner of Impressionism’s philosophy of expressing one’s perceptions of nature, especially as applied to plein air (outdoor) landscape painting.[2] The term “Impressionism” is derived from the title of his painting Impression, soleil levant, which was exhibited in 1874 at the First Impressionist Exhibition, initiated by Monet and a number of like-minded artists as an alternative to the Salon.

Monet was raised in Le Havre, Normandy, and became interested in the outdoors and drawing from an early age. Although his mother, Louise-Justine Aubrée Monet, supported his ambitions to be a painter, his father, Claude-Adolphe, disapproved and wanted him to pursue a career in business. He was very close to his mother, but she died in January 1857 when he was sixteen years old, and he was sent to live with his childless, widowed but wealthy aunt, Marie-Jeanne Lecadre. He went on to study at the Académie Suisse, and under the academic history painter Charles Gleyre, where he was a classmate of Auguste Renoir. His early works include landscapes, seascapes, and portraits, but attracted little attention. A key early influence was Eugène Boudin, who introduced him to the concept of plein air painting. From 1883, Monet lived in Giverny, also in northern France, where he purchased a house and property and began a vast landscaping project, including a water-lily pond.

Monet’s ambition to document the French countryside led to a method of painting the same scene many times so as to capture the changing of light and the passing of the seasons. Among the best-known examples are his series of haystacks (1890–1891), paintings of Rouen Cathedral (1892–1894), and the paintings of water lilies in his garden in Giverny, which occupied him for the last 20 years of his life. Frequently exhibited and successful during his lifetime, Monet’s fame and popularity soared in the second half of the 20th century when he became one of the world’s most famous painters and a source of inspiration for a burgeoning group of artists. [1]

Credits and Attributions:

IMAGE: Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:Claude Monet – L’été – Champ de coquelicots.JPG,” Wikimedia Commons, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:Claude_Monet_-_L%27%C3%A9t%C3%A9_-_Champ_de_coquelicots.JPG&oldid=1017229638 (accessed June 19, 2025).

[1] Wikipedia contributors, “Claude Monet,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Claude_Monet&oldid=1295997578 (accessed June 19, 2025).

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June 16, 2025 · 6:00 am

#Writing the Disaster 

Severe weather, fires, famines, and floods are terrible to live through, and many harrowing stories emerge from these experiences. Stories of apocalyptic catastrophes resonate because disaster drives humanity to strive for greater things. Those who survive and rise above it become heroes.

One disaster we may all face at some point is famine driven by climate change. Hunger exists in this world, and famine is an enemy that takes no prisoners.

Food deprivation can have a lasting impact on a person. People can survive on very little, and unfortunately, many do. To go without adequate food for any length of time changes you, makes you determined to never go hungry again. You stockpile preserved foods in times of plenty as a shield against the next famine.

Unfortunately, for some, hunger will lead them to make choices that challenge the accepted morality of those who have no concept of what hunger truly is.

If you are looking for the seeds of a good story, consider the small tragedies people face each day, deeply personal catastrophes. These disasters happen on what seems an unimportant level to people who have resources.

I have used this example before, but it’s a real-life situation, one that may be familiar to you and your community. A young widow is working two part-time jobs and raising her two small children. How would you write her story? Perhaps she lives in an area with no public transportation. She struggles to pay for fuel, but what if her car breaks down? How will she get to work?

All her money goes to fuel, childcare, rent, and utilities. What little she has left after those bills are paid goes to food. She has no resources and no means to pay for car repairs. Without her car, she will lose both jobs. That is a profoundly personal disaster, one from which she and her children might not recover.

But maybe that plot isn’t big enough to inspire you to write a book about it. Perhaps you want to write about a disaster that inspires heroics in the face of widespread devastation. The world itself can provide us with plenty of drama. Wildfires, floods, tornadoes, hurricanes, earthquakes, tsunamis – these catastrophes regularly destroy thousands of communities.

courtesy Office360 graphics

Once we have introduced our characters and set the scene, it’s time to bring on the natural disaster. When you begin writing the story, it will be chaotic. Just get the bones of the events down as well as you can and move on. You must get the entire story down while it is fresh.

In the first draft, write each scene as fast as you can, and don’t worry about fine-tuning it because you will come back to it later. The second draft is where you will iron out the rough spots and make things logical.

In the second draft, we take apart the scenes where we have told the story and reword them. We show the events as if we were painting with words. We use power words to inject real, believable emotion into the experience.

The window shatters, and a two-by-four impales itself in the wall beside David amid a shower of glass shards. I stare, dumbstruck, as the wind tears the door from my hand and slams it against the wall.

Verbs in that scene are: stare, impales, shatter, tears, and slams. Show the bones of the event by using verbs with powerful visuals, and the reader’s mind will fill in the rest.

I suggest you open a new document and describe the disaster in great detail. Then save it as background material for that story and walk away from it. Let it rest, and move on to something else. When you return to it, read it aloud and see what you can cut and condense and still have the bones of the action. As always, verbs and power words are action’s best friend.

Droughts often cause famines and worse. To go without water is to die. Thirst is a more immediate pain than hunger. The human animal can survive for up to three weeks without food but only three to four days without water. Rarely, one might survive up to a week.

Even brackish water must taste sweet when one suffers from a lack of potable water. And when one is starving, foods they would consider repugnant under other circumstances will fill their belly.

Look at the continual strife in some third-world countries. You will see how long-term droughts have precipitated widespread famine, leading to civil unrest. Gang wars are fought over the right to own a water source, and these conflicts can erupt into revolution.

We often forget this when we have plenty to eat and never have to worry about whether we will have water in our faucet as long as we can pay the bills. However, if we learned anything from the empty grocery store shelves in 2020 and the subsequent supply chain crisis, it is that our well-fed lives are standing on a one-legged stool.

Once the events of the disaster are on paper the way we want them, we have the opportunity to ratchet up the reader’s emotions by the way we portray the aftermath. Who finds strength through the calamity, and who is broken by it? What roadblocks do they face, and how do they recover?

We must complete the story and provide the reader with some closure by ending with our characters in a place of comparative happiness and security.

Drama, heartache, disaster, and violence are the backdrop against which humanity’s story plays out. The most powerful books in the Western Canon of Great Literature explore both the good and evil of the human experience.

We connect with these stories across the centuries because the fundamental concerns of human life aren’t unique to one society, one technological era, or one point in time. We all want enough food, enough water, and reliable shelter.

When we contrast ease with hardship, we add emotional texture to our narrative. I love a good story featuring courage in the face of personal disasters. Readers like me will think about the story and those characters long after it has ended.

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