#FineArtFriday: Grotto Landscape with a Hermitage by Jan Brueghel II and Joos de Momper II

Artists: Jan Brueghel the Younger (1601–1678)

Joos de Momper the Younger (1564–1635)

Title:  Grotto Landscape with a Hermitage

Date:   between 1625 and 1630

Medium: oil on canvas

Dimensions: height: 56 cm (22 in); width: 99 cm (38.9 in)

Collection: Private collection

What I love about this painting:

On the surface, while it’s definitely a masterpiece, the subject is one that was done in various ways by nearly every artist of their day. Works like this sold well, as it was the fashion for every upper middleclass merchant to own paintings by the popular artists of their day. The most prolific artists and their workshops chugged paintings out like bakers turning out hot bread.

In most of these workshops, certain aspects were done by the hand of the master, while apprentices and journeymen did the bulk of the work under the master’s guidance. That was how young artists learned the craft. The masters reserved their finest works for their noble patrons, and these were completely done by their own hand.

Two masters created this painting. Joos de Momper II painted the landscape, and Jan Brueghel II did the staffage (people and animals). The two artists often worked together. Both were exceptionally good at what they did, and both made a good living from their art.

The casual observer might think there isn’t much of a story, as it’s a genre painting of people on a religious pilgrimage.

But the people are where the story lies. Why are they seeking wisdom here? What has happened that they would leave their farms and shops to visit him? Why do they not seek advice from their priest?

The artists show us a hermit [Hermit – Wikipedia], a man who has chosen a life of poverty and religious seclusion.

I see many ways a story could go here. The hermit intrigues me.  Why does an educated man choose to leave the comforts of civilization and live in such a rickety shack with only a dog for companionship? (A good choice of friends, in my opinion.)

I wonder what sort of person he was. Was he a kind man who wanted to be closer to nature?

Or perhaps he had made bad business investments and lost everything. Was he bitter about his place in the world? Was he truly a humble person, or was this his personal punishment? What wisdom did he have to offer those who visited him?

I like to think he was a kind person who just wanted to be alone with his dog and his books, and while I don’t have a dog, I often feel the same way.

About this painting via Wikipedia:

Untouched nature is the dominant theme of the right half of the painting, religion occupies the left half of the picture. The hermit set up an altar with a painting of crowned Mary on it. The painting juxtaposes religion and nature as well as civilization on the one hand (church in the background, elegantly dressed walkers) and untouched nature (crane, waterfall) on the other. [1]

To read more about this painting, go to Grotto Landscape with a Hermitage – Wikipedia

About the artists via Wikipedia:

In Flemish painting of the late 16th and early 17th centuries there was often joint work by different painters. The painters specialized in a certain area, such as landscape or figures. The painting “Grotto landscape with hermitage” is an example of the collaboration: while Brughel painted the figures and animals, Joos de Momper the grotto and the landscape. This division of labor approach was quite common among painters at that time.

Joos de Momper the Younger (1564-1635) was a Flemish landscape painter. His landscape depictions show the transition from the Mannerist world landscape to the naturalistic Dutch landscape painting of the 17th century.

Jan Brueghel the Younger (1601–1678) was a Flemish landscape, flower and animal painter from the most important Flemish painting dynasty, the Brueghel family. He was the grandson of Pieter Bruegel the Elder and son of Jan Brueghel the Elder.

Both Joos de Momper and Jan Brueghel grew up in Antwerp and were members of the Guild of Saint Luke, a guild-like brotherhood of painters and printers. Both painters also came from important families of painters. Joos de Momper often worked with Jan Brueghel the Elder and Jan Brueghel the Younger.

Grotto painting as a genre

De Momper is considered to be the most important exponent of grotto painting: These are paintings in which a rock grotto or cave is the focus of the painting. The caves are refuge for hermits, serve as a place of pilgrimage (as in this painting) or serve as the background of a mythological story. Further representatives of grotto painting are Cornelis van Dalem (approx. 1530–1573), Jan Brueghel the Elder (1568–1625) and Paul Bril (approx. 1553–1626). Another grotto landscape by Joos de Momper and Jan Brueghel the Elder is in the Liechtenstein Museum in Vienna, also here with a reading hermit.

De Momper’s name was so closely linked to rock and mountain landscapes that he was named Judocus de Momper Pictor montium Antwerpiae (Joos de Momper, Antwerp, Painter of mountains) in the then very well-known Iconography, a series of pictures by well-known painters after Anthony van Dyck.

To read more about these artists, go to:

Joos de Momper – Wikipedia

Jan Brueghel the Younger – Wikipedia


Credits and Attributions:

IMAGE: Grotto Landscape with a Hermitage by Jan Brueghel II and Joos de Momper II

[1] Wikipedia contributors, “Grotto Landscape with a Hermitage,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Grotto_Landscape_with_a_Hermitage&oldid=1299616328 (accessed July 31, 2025).

[2] Jan Brueghel the Younger – Jan Brueghel the Younger – Wikipedia

[3] Joos de Momper the Younger – Joos de Momper – Wikipedia

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Constructing the short story – the Narrative Essay #writing

I talk a lot about the craft of writing, from novels to short stories, poems, and microfiction. Some might think that outside of journalism and blogging, there isn’t much left for an author to focus on. However, there is another area of writing that we’ve all heard of but don’t often think about. They are essays.

Narrative essays most frequently appear in magazines, so that is where to look for the best contemporary work by today’s authors of mainstream fiction.

  • And much of it is sitting around in waiting rooms the world over, so take a more critical look at the magazines the next time you go to the dentist.

Essays offer an author the opportunity to express ideas and values. Michel de Montaigne (1533–1592) was the first author to describe his work as essays, by which he meant attempts. He used the term to characterize these short pieces as “attempts” to put his thoughts into writing.

Narrative essays are drawn directly from real life, but they are fictionalized accounts. They detail an incident or event and talk about how the experience affected the author on a personal level.

One of my favorite narrative essays is 1994’s Ticket to the Fair (now titled “Getting Away from Already Being Pretty Much Away from It All“) by David Foster Wallace, published in Harper’s. I’ve talked about this particular piece before. It’s a humorous, eye-opening story of a naïve, slightly arrogant young journalist’s assignment to cover the 1993 Iowa State Fair, told in the first person.

Wallace assumed it would be a boring event featuring farm animals, which might be beneath him. But it was his first official assignment for Harpers, and he didn’t want to screw it up. What he found there, the people he met, their various crafts, and how they loved their lives profoundly altered his view of himself and his values.

As we find in Wallace’s piece, the primary purpose of an essay is thought-provoking content. The narrative essay conveys our ideas in a palatable form, so writing this kind of piece requires authors to think.

Some magazines are still available in print and can be found at many grocery stores and bookstores. However, don’t hesitate to submit to online publications, as many magazines have transitioned to publishing online rather than on paper nowadays. Legitimate online publishers pay the same royalties to their authors as those still publishing via paper do.

A narrative essay is just like any other form of short fiction. It has content and structure:

  • Introductory paragraphs that hook the reader.
  • An intriguing plot that keeps the reader interested.
  • Engaging characters.
  • An immersive setting.
  • An ending that satisfies the reader, but leaves them thinking about the story and what might have happened next..

Choose your words for impact because writing with intentional prose is critical. A good narrative essay expresses far more than mere opinion, more than simply relating an experience. Essays sometimes convey deep, uncomfortable views. The trick is to offer them in a way that the reader feels connected to the story. Once readers have that connection, they will see the merit of the opinions and viewpoints.

So, now we know that narrative essays are a way of sharing our personal views of the world, the places we visit, and the people we meet along the way.

  • Names should be changed, of course.

Literary magazines want well-written essays on a wide range of topics and life experiences presented with a fresh point of view. Authors can make their names by being published in a reputable magazine. You must pay strict attention to grammar and editing to have any chance of acceptance.

After you have finished the piece, set it aside for a week or two. Then, return to it with a yellow highlighter and a fresh eye. Print it out and read it out loud, checking for dropped and missing words. Read it aloud yourself, because in this case, I do NOT recommend the narrator function of your word processing program.

In the process of reading aloud, you will highlight the following bloopers:

  • Misspelled words, autocorrect errors, and homophones (words that sound the same but are spelled differently). These words are insidious because they are actual words and don’t immediately appear out of place.
  • Repeated words and cut-and-paste errors. These are sneaky and dreadfully difficult to spot. Spell-checker won’t always find them. When you read them silently, they make sense to you because you see what you think you wrote. For the reader, they appear as unusually garbled sentences, and you will stumble over them as you read aloud.
  • Missing punctuation and closed quotes. These things happen to the best of us.
  • Digits/Numbers: Miskeyed numbers are difficult to spot when they are wrong, unless they are spelled out.

Don’t be afraid to write with a wide vocabulary and use power words. Readers of these publications have a broad command of language. While they won’t want excessively flowery prose, they also don’t want to read a dumbed-down narrative.

  • However, we never use jargon or technical terms that are only known to people in certain professions, unless it is a piece for a publication catering to that segment of readers.

Above all, be a little bold. I enjoy works by authors who are adventurous in their work.

And finally, we must be realistic. Not everything you write will resonate with everyone you submit it to. Put two people in a room, hand them the most exciting thing you’ve ever read, and you’ll get two different opinions. They probably won’t agree with you.

Don’t be discouraged by rejection. I follow several well-known authors via social media because what they have to say about the industry is intriguing. They’re journalists who submit at least one piece weekly, hoping they will sell one or two a year. One says she aims for one hundred rejections a year because two or three stories or essays are bound to strike a chord with the right editor during that time.

Rejection happens far more frequently than acceptance, so don’t let fear of rejection keep you from writing pieces you’re emotionally invested in.

This is where you have the opportunity to cross the invisible line between amateur and professional. Always take the high ground—if an editor has sent you a detailed rejection, respond with a simple “thank you for your time.” If it’s a form letter rejection, don’t reply.

What should you do if your work is accepted but the editor wants a few revisions?

If the editor wants changes, they will make their requests clear. Editors know what their intended audience wants. Trust that the editor knows their business.

Make whatever changes they request.

Never be less than gracious to any of the people at a publication when you communicate with them, whether they are the senior editor or the newest intern. Be a team player and work with them.

And when you receive that email of acceptance, crack open the Bubbly (in my case, Sparkling Cider). Give yourself permission to celebrate having sold your work.

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#FineArtFriday: a closer look at “The Baker” by Job Adriaenszoon Berckheyde, circa 1681

Title: The Baker

Genre: self-portrait

Artist: Job Adriaenszoon Berckheyde

Date: 1681

Medium: oil on canvas

Collection: Worcester Art Museum

What I like about this painting:

I love fresh-baked bread, and once the weather turns cold, I start making my own. A crockpot full of homemade soup and bread fresh out of the oven? It’s my idea of heaven, and it’s what’s on the menu two times a week here at Casa del Jasperson.

Berckheyde must have loved bread too, as he painted several pictures of bakery shops. These genre paintings of bakeries were popular as a subject for Dutch artists from around 1650.

I first featured this image in September of 2020. When I first saw it, I wondered why our baker is blowing a horn. I discovered that was how some bakers announced the morning’s freshly baked bread.

Like most merchants in 17th century Holland, bakers often worked out of their own homes. However, their ovens were well-known fire threats. Entire cities would go up in a raging conflagration that no one could outrun or stop, often burning for days. For this reason, many neighbors didn’t really want a baker going into business next door to them.

To minimize the fire risk, some towns and cities required bakers to live and do business in stone buildings. This law explains the artist’s rather monumental choice of architecture as the background for The Baker. It looks like the entrance to a cathedral.

Berckheyde chose to make this a self-portrait. I like this decision, for he was honest in how he presented himself, He is not too handsome, but is surrounded by a wide, tempting assortment of goods, including pretzels. The wooden rack they’re displayed on would be at home in any bakery shop today.

I would definitely buy my family’s bread from this baker.


About the Artist, via Wikipedia:

Job Berckheyde, baptized 27 January 1630 and died 23 November 1693, was born in Haarlem and was the older brother of the painter Gerrit who he later taught to paint.

He was apprenticed on 2 November 1644 to Jacob Willemszoon de Wet. His master’s influence is apparent in his first dated canvas, “Christ Preaching to the Children” (1661), one of his few biblical scenes.

Golden-age historian Arnold Houbraken claimed that Job had been trained as a bookbinder by his father, and could not discover who taught him to paint.

What is not in doubt is that Gerrit learned from his older brother. Job’s teacher must have been a Haarlem master, and some claim it was Frans Hals, but Houbraken claimed he travelled as a journeyman between Leiden and Utrecht offering his services as a portrait painter and learned by doing.

During the 1650s the two brothers, Job and Gerrit, made an extended trip along the Rhine to Germany, stopping off at Cologne, Bonn, Mannheim and finally Heidelberg, following the example of their fellow guild member Vincent van der Vinne.

The brothers worked in Heidelberg for Charles I Louis, Elector Palatine (with Job producing portraits and hunting scenes, and receiving a gold chain from the Elector in reward) but were ultimately unable to adapt to court life and so returned to Haarlem, where they shared a house and perhaps a studio.

He became a member of the Haarlem rederijkersgilde ‘De Wijngaardranken’ in 1666–1682. He is registered in Amsterdam 1682–1688, where he became a member of the Guild of St Luke there in 1685–1688. Berckheyde was buried in Haarlem.

He could paint landscapes in the same style as his brother, but seems to have preferred interiors and genre works, whereas his brother’s oeuvre consists mostly of outdoor scenes. The Elector’s gold chain may be the one he wears in his early Self-portrait (1655), his only documented work from the 1650s.

Job is better known for his later work, which consists mainly of interior views of the Sint-Bavokerk in Haarlem and simple genre scenes recalling those of his Haarlem contemporaries Adriaen van Ostade and Jan Steen.

Less prolific than his brother, but more varied in his output, Job produced bible and genre scenes as well as cityscapes. Confusion between their works may have resulted from the similarity of their signatures, where Job’s j resembles Gerrit’s g. Job also signed his work with an H (for Hiob or Job) and with the monogram HB.


Credits and Attributions:

Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:Berckheyde, Job – The Baker – 1681.jpg,” Wikimedia Commons, the free media repository, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:Berckheyde,_Job_-_The_Baker_-_1681.jpg&oldid=463054921 (accessed September 17, 2020).

Wikipedia contributors, “Job Adriaenszoon Berckheyde,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Job_Adriaenszoon_Berckheyde&oldid=947928424 (accessed September 17, 2020).

Wikipedia contributors, “Gerrit Berckheyde,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Gerrit_Berckheyde&oldid=933563068 (accessed September 17, 2020).

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Constructing the short story – the double circular story arc #writing

I love writing short stories because they offer me opportunities to experiment with both style and genre. It’s a challenge for a wordy writer like me to build a world in only a few words and still tell a story with a beginning, a middle, and an end.

In any story, the words we choose must do some heavy lifting. They must be strong and visual to show the setting, and when we combine them with a powerful theme, a few well-chosen words will convey atmosphere and mood.

Usually, I write my ideas in an outline form that becomes the first draft, but not always. Sometimes I write the story as it unfolds in my mind. Then, I take that very rough draft and turn it into an outline and rewrite it.

Let’s say I need to write a story for a contest or publication with a 2,000-word limit. Once I have the outline in shape, I will mentally divide the story into 3 acts. Act 1 must be told in 500 words. I will have 1,000 words to spend on Act 2, and finally, Act 3 will have to wrap things up in 500 words.

  • For any story, if you know the intended word count, you can divide the plot outline that way.

Knowing my intended word count helps me write a story, from drabbles to novels. This method works for stories with a traditional arc as well as those with a circular arc.

In a circular narrative, the story begins at point A, takes the protagonist through life-changing events, and brings them home, ending where it started. The starting and ending points are the same, and the characters return home, but they are fundamentally changed by the story’s events. The Hobbit is a tale with a circular story arc, as are many tales that follow the Hero’s Journey.

The infinity arc is similar but presents one story from two different viewpoints. The story begins with Character One, takes them through the events, and brings them back. At that point, the story shifts to Character Two and retells the events from their point of view, bringing them back to where they began. (Two circular story arcs joined by one event.) If we graphed it out, it would look something like an infinity sign, a figure-eight lying on its side: 

The story I’m using for today’s example is the Iron Dragon, which I wrote during NaNoWriMo 2015. That was the year I focused on experimental writing, putting out at least one short story every day and sometimes two. It’s the story of the web of time glitching and the perceptions of the characters who experienced it.

That year, a writing prompt I found on a writers’ website encouraged us to expand on the theme of dragons and use it to illustrate two aspects of a place. I chose to set my story in Wales, a country whose national symbol is the Red Dragon (Welsh: Y Ddraig Goch).

I am not Welsh, nor did we study Wales in school, so I had to go out and do some research. In the process, I learned a great deal and gained immense respect for a country I had known little about.

Once I had an idea of the two worlds I was building, I couldn’t resist setting two more goals to achieve.

  • I decided to experiment with the double circular story arc, seeing it as a way to tell one story as lived by two protagonists separated by twelve centuries and a multitude of legends.
  • I chose to use 1,000 words to tell both stories. I was not entirely successful, but I did keep it down to 1,025 words.

As I mentioned above, in the double circular arc, two characters are protagonists. Their stories begin at the same place, the center of the infinity symbol. They experience the event simultaneously but separately and arrive back at the same place. Both characters are tested and changed by what they have lived through. In some stories with this kind of story arc, the two characters never meet.

In the Iron Dragon, my characters physically don’t meet in person. However, they briefly occupy the same patch of ground during a glitch in the space-time continuum.

This story ends where it began, but with the two sets of characters having seemingly experienced two different events. Their perception of the meeting is colored by the knowledge and superstitions of their respective eras.

  • The first paragraph of the Iron Dragon begins in the middle of a story: the center of the infinity sign.

Those opening sentences establish the world, set the scene, and introduce the first protagonist.

  • The following three paragraphs show the situation and establish the mood. They also introduce the antagonist, which appears to be an immense iron dragon.

At this point, our first protagonist knows that he must resolve the problem and protect his people, which he does

But this is a story with two sides. Aeddan’s point of view is not the entire story.

  • Again, I had to set the scene and establish the mood and characters. Here, we meet the second protagonist, an engine driver named Owen. He has the same needs as Aeddan and also resolves the problem.

Neither character would have understood the strange physics of what just occurred had Brian Cox been around to explain it to them.

  • Each character’s understanding of what they saw and experienced is firmly based on the beliefs and lore of their era, and both do what they must to protect their people.
  • The final paragraphs wind it up. They also contribute to the overall atmosphere and setting of the second part of the story.

As a practice piece, the story had good bones. However, it’s not the right kind of story for submission to a magazine or contest, as it’s not a commercially viable piece.

The act of writing something different, a little outside my comfort zone, forces me to be more imaginative in how I tell my stories. We should all have a little fun with writing. Give that double circular arc a shot and see what you come up with.


Credits and Attributions:

IMAGE: The  Hero’s Journey, Public Domain. Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:Heroesjourney.svg,” Wikimedia Commons, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:Heroesjourney.svg&oldid=1013027507 (accessed July 20, 2025).

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#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 Breughelthe 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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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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#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 AragoneseSicilian fleet against the AngevinNeopolitan 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 Breughelthe 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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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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#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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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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