Auditory Imagery

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by Cheryl Owen Wilson

I’ve just returned from my first ever vacation in Italy.  I woke this morning in Eugene, Oregon, and missed terribly the sound of church bells ringing.  They rang, in every city on the hour, and in some on the half hour, during my stay in this colorful country.  My favorites were in the small town of Cinque Terre-Monterosso, where I heard not only the usual bong, bong, etc., but the delicate tinkle of chimes as well.  Forever more when I hear church bells ringing, an image of vibrantly colored homes looking as though carved from the very cliff sides where they cling along the Ligurian Sea, will appear in my mind.

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As writers we are instructed to make certain we utilize the five senses in our stories.  Our characters must see, taste, smell, touch and hear.  For the purpose of my blog today, I’m going to focus on one sense—sound.

Ambient sounds permeate our daily lives.  Yet, can you remember the first sound you heard this morning (that was not your alarm going off)?   I asked this question randomly, and found most couldn’t recall the first sound of their day.  However, when I asked them to describe the sounds of their last vacation they easily responded: Ocean waves, birds chirping, children’s laughter, music, etc.  They then, without provocation, proceeded to describe a scene related to each sound.

There is a term for this in writer’s lingo: auditory imagery.   It is when a writer uses sound to invoke an image in their readers minds.  The result being their reader will both hear and see in equal measure.

What are the ambient sounds present in your story’s world?  Is falling rain hitting the tiled roof of a villa utilized to invoke a sense of calm and peace?   Or does the rain incite dread given the tiles are loose causing rain to leak through on to a valuable work of art?   Do birds chirping arouse in your reader a vision of a Disney movie, or a scene from the 1963 movie, The Birds?

I find this form of using sound to be fascinating, and challenging.  How do you find the perfect “sound” in order to illicit the image desired?  As a writer, you know it’s by beginning the eternal, time sucking search for said word.  For you must have the exact sound to match the image you are trying to invoke.  Since there is a word for everything, of course there is a word for this search: onomatopoeia.

Now for an exercise in the use of auditory imagery.  Should I have used gong, instead of bong, when trying to invoke in you, the image of an ancient bell tower in Italy?  For those of you who are not writers, you now have a better understanding of why we as writers, are randomly described as crazy as loons, or have bats in our belfry.  Try that on for auditory imagery.  Go on, google the sound of a loon, and let your mind see and hear hundreds of bat wings flapping in a bell tower or better yet, someone’s mind.

As some of you are aware, I’m also a painter. Italy provided me with a rare opportunity to view art from Dali, to Picasso.  However, Kandinsky was my favorite.  As an artist Kandinsky used the sound of music as a muse (which some of us writer’s do as well).  So, I thought it befitting to include his quote in this blog.

“Form itself, even if completely abstract … has its own inner sound.”
― Wassily Kandinsky

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Every single word, in every single story is used to invoke an image.  Sound is but one way to accomplish that end.  In my stories I have the many sounds coming from swampy marshes to invoke the spine-chilling images I wish my readers to see.  What are the sounds you use?

 

Happy National Poetry Month

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I’m a writer not a poet, an artist, but not a poet. Yet, I have shared several of my poems in past blog posts. For me, poetry serves as a shorthand expression of creativity that I do not spend a great deal of time obsessing over.

Please don’t misunderstand me; I do take poetry most seriously. From Henry David Thoreau, to Sylvia Plath, to Maya Angelou, their lyrical words have healed my broken psyche, made me feel I wasn’t alone in the world, and allowed me to see humankind, and Mother Nature, through new eyes.

When I do take my own poetry seriously is when I’m using it to see/understand more clearly—and in less time—the “underlying message” behind the story banging against the walls of my brain insisting on a way out.   Those short clipped sentences have proven to be a most useful tool in the honeymoon phase of writing a short story, or novel.

To date, my relationship with poetry has been a secluded, solitary association. But to my surprise, I’ve recently discovered another use for this impactful form of expression.

Do you like playing games?

Many of my writing friends use games, role-playing games, dice games, tarot card games; the list goes on and on. They utilize these games to allow the fates to determine the story they will tell. I personally have never done this, but….

In a small bookstore on the Oregon coast I stumbled upon a poetry word game. It was one of those, hair standing up on the back of my neck moments. I felt this game literally calling out to me from its hidden, dusty shelf.

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It was as though this game was made specifically for me—“A Game of Color and Wordplay!”

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Color and Wordplay!

For those who’ve not read my past blog posts, as stated above I’m also an artist. But this game didn’t just catch me with its title. No, it gave this extrovert writer the added bonus of being, either a solitary game, or a game to be enjoyed with others.

There are several ways in the “How to Play” rules. The first time I played this game, I had the good fortune of being on a weekend retreat with three of my adult daughters, a nine-year old grandson, and a sixteen-year old granddaughter.

There was admittedly, hesitation, from my offspring at my request to play this particular game. But some time later, after many stories magically appeared through randomly picked colored tiles etched with whispered words, they were hooked.

The rules we played by were quite simple:

  • Stock your palette with a dozen paint chips.
  • Draw a Prompt
  • Make your Poem
  • Show & Tell
  • The “judge” declares the winner who then receives the Prompt card.

The final winner is the player who collects the most prompts, but we didn’t play to win. We played for the fun, creative story reflected as each palette was revealed.

Here are a few of the stories created along with the prompt, and paint chips:

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Once Upon a Time

There was a dragon fly,

who lived in an herb garden.

He found a looking glass.

When he looked through it, he saw an emerald.

The Sunshine hit it,

giving him a new zest for life.

 

Once Upon a Time

In outerspace,

on the red planet.

A bluebird lived,

in a cedar chest,

made of driftwood.

 

In a parallel universe

 

In a Parallel Universe

A fairy mustard seed,

woke in the shadow of midnight,

by a babbling brook,

and her lover, Supernova.

As she sat next to him eating nectar,

she blushed like a pink pearl.

 

In a Parallel Universe

An iron gate opened

To a genie in a lamp playing a saxophone solo

It created a pyramid, tree house of bone.

The result—a total eclipse of night.

 

 

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Heartbreak

We began with a lightening bolt.

It created the bright fire of our love.

But through boundary waters we slipped,

separating us for an eternity in Outer Space.

 

Heartbreak

Revenge,

                  Blazing Sun,

                                    Bullseye,

                                                Easy Peasy,

                                                            BlackWidow.

 

So in this month of poetry, I encourage you, if you’ve never written poetry or used it as a creative outlet please give it a try. Paint Chip Poetry can get you started.

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I can’t wait to open the box on this wordplay game again.   With its never-ending source of creative story on paint colored chips, it waits for its players to imagine new worlds, new stories revealed.

What tools do you use to spark your creative muse?

The Information Dump and Life’s Ever-Changing Landscape

by Cheryl Owen-Wilson

I struggle with backstory. Apparently my characters require a great deal of explanation resulting in my critique group citing I’ve once again created an information dump. They advise, “Just weave the information through the story, bit by bit.”   Sounds easy enough, doesn’t it? Well, not for me.

For those unfamiliar with an information dump, it is an extended form of telling rather than showing. A chunk of information “dumped” on the reader. Some can stretch for paragraphs, pages, or heaven forbid take up entire chapters. Your reader at this point may start flipping pages, decide the laundry needs tending, or worse yet put your book down never to be picked up again. Such are the pitfalls of an information dump. Following are a few of the tools I’ve discovered to address this issue.

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Is all the information necessary?

Most times after creating an information dump I’ve found I’m simply clearing my throat, and in edit the information can be cut entirely, or simplified to a few words.

For instance, I may need to know every native plant, and exactly where they are located, on the Island buried in the middle of a Louisiana swamp. My readers however, need only know the name of the tree with snaking gnarled roots, and creeping vines sprouting up along the path leading my protagonist to possible doom. Then again, even that bit of botany may be unnecessary.

Is it taking place in the moment?

This particular question has caused many a debate. My previous ways of placing the information in the moment were through a characters flashbacks, or dreams. My logic being—in the moment, it’s in their head, their memory. You can see where I might get in trouble with said logic. A writing mentor once explicitly instructed, “Never, never begin a story with a dream, and when you do use dreams make certain the dream is bookmarked (before and after), in the present moment.”

Can it be placed in the moment through dialogue in an existing scene, or by creating a scene in order to relay the information?  

By using dialogue between my characters I’ve successfully shared past memories, and yes, even dreams, while maintaining the rule of—in the moment.

For instance do my readers need to know Sarah begot Diana, who begot Dorthea, who begot Leona, etc., in order to eventually get to the pertinent point? The point being, my protagonist’s lineage is tied to a famous Voodoo Queen.

Instead her Grandmama could simply invite her for coffee and say, “Te’Ona, it be ‘bout time ya knew where ya blood comes from.” Grandmama could then take out the family bible where all the births are listed (incase Te’Ona needs the information for future story building).

Dialogue is also a useful tool in showing, not telling your readers personality traits.

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Can you provide information and sense of place all in one scene?

Queue the second half of my title, Life’s Ever-Changing Landscape.  During a recent trip to my home state of Louisiana I was feeling a bit well, ancient. All of my childhood haunts were either gone or altered. We’d drive down a certain street so I could show my husband a particular building only to find it wasn’t there, or had been turned from the movie theatre of my youth to office spaces. Waterway’s where I spent time frogging were not longer passable, clogged with debris, or invasive plant life. My favorite tree in the park no longer stood. Yet, at each juncture I still explained the landmark’s significance in my life. “The tree was my touch stone when things were going poorly at home. Now that I think about it, that tree lives on in many of my paintings.”

Upon returning home I found myself doing the same thing while driving with my grandson, Max. We passed an empty building, and I found myself saying, “There used to be a coffee shop in there. I’d take your mommy, and your aunts most every weekend. It’s where your mommy first started writing, and sharing her stories with us.”

I hope these few tools help, in information dumps you find yourself creating. I personally continue to find myself in the midst of writing what I feel are amazingly informative information dumps. But now I know how to utilize them for my own purposes of moving the story along, allowing it to take me where it wants to go. Because it isn’t solely the landscape around me changing, it’s the evolution of my writing life as well.

What are tools you’ve used to avoid information dumps?

2018’s End and 2019’s Beginning In Poem By Cheryl Owen-Wilson

Working on my latest painting (see below) allowed me to complete my annual year end poem, The Spirit of Christmas.  The process of creating the painting gave me a sense of peace, renewal, and an overwhelming wish to stop time so I could live in its otherworldly glow.  So dear readers, my wish for you in the coming year, are those same things–peace, renewal and an abundance of time to stand in nature’s glow.

The Spirit of Christmas

Our Christmas tree is once again frosted with fine strands of tinsel glowing, bright, and white.

And when Grandson Max frosted his own tree this year, a next generational tradition, took flight.

Yes, the Spirit of Christmas has us in its thrall, a time of year, when its magical essence, captures us, big, or small.

From the smell of earthy pine filling the air, to the mouth watering scent, of the sweet confections, we prepare.

It is one of my favorite times of year.

One where even opponents, can raise a sparkling glass together, in good cheer.

But before the year of 2018 sounds it final note,

let us look back on some of the highlights, worthy of a quote.

Wasn’t the world’s faith in miracles restored with unerring belief?

When from a flooded cave, emerged 12 boys, and in unison our worry fled, like a thief.

And we must give thanks to Nobel Prize winners’, Dr.’s Honjo, and Allison.

For through their immunotherapy research, our fight against cancer, will yet, be won.

Now to the House we must go, as it sports a new vibe, a fresh coat of paint if you will,

when a palette of all sexes, and shades of color, reclaimed a part of the, infamous Hill.

And have you ever seen the phrase, “never say never” played out in real life?

Well in April, North and South Korea’s leaders actually met to discuss, their decade long strife.

A new addition is forthcoming in England’s royal bloodline, perhaps, even something new.

For what will the Queen say, if the bundle in the baby blanket, is of a decidedly, darker hue?

Here ye, here ye, we have a new “word of the year” Dictionary.com, has proclaimed.

“Misinformation” is the winner as the guilty, continue, to not be named.

Then there is Oregon’s youth, and their legal action over climate change.

Let us hope for a swift, suitable, resolution in this life altering exchange.

On a lighter note, if you’re Barbara Streisand, and for your beloved dog Samantha, death calls,

you simply have her cloned, and release a new album titled, Walls.

Now we must not forget, those who this year, have gone beyond the veil,

even as their art, spirit, and legacy will eternally prevail.

Here’s to Ms. Aretha Franklin the Queen of Soul, who will forevermore,

with the greatest of “RESPECT”, be on the “Highway to Heaven” tour.

And let us not forget Oregon’s own David Ogden Stiers, who with his snobbish, balderdash, gave us fits of laughter through his iconic role as Major Winchester, in the TV series, Mash.

And how will superheroes blossom in the imaginations of future generations,

without Mr. Stan Lee to cast them in such vivid, story illustrations?

Now to the stars we must gaze looking toward an illusive black hole.

For this is where Mr. Stephen Hawking, has set up camp, in this, his final role.

Dear friends, I know there are many more for whom we should bid a final farewell.

And there is also an over abundance of life altering quotes, yet to tell.

But alas, I must end this annual poem of mine,

as I attempt to once again capture the final stanzas’ in rhyme.

We are each and every one of us, hurtling through space on this big, blue ball.

Would it not be easier if we took on the mantra of the musketeers? “All for one, and one for all.”

For in reality, it is within each and every one of our own, hand’s grasp,

to reach across the aisle, and simply ask,

“Help me to understand, let us work together, to make the lives of future generations, that, much, better.”

Night Dreams, Original Art by Cheryl Owen-Wilson

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A Writer Gives Thanks, Yet Again

By Cheryl Owen-Wilson

T is for the thousands of words pulled from deep within your gut.

H is for the few hundred to make the final cut.

A is for the armor you must don through each and every edit.

N is for the nerves of steel required to re-submit it.

K is for the knowledge your writing tribe of friends freely impart.

S is for the spark of an idea, and knowing where to start.

G is for grinding through the muddle of the middle.

I is for the intuition of knowing what to leave, and what to whittle.

V is for the humble verb that alone will make your story speak.

I is for the inspiration that at times plays hide and seek.

N is for the final novel you, and you alone did create, and pursue.

And the final…

G is for the immense gratitude of readers, and their very positive review.

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Just a Few Words

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By Cheryl Owen Wilson

Knowing the rules of a particular trade, and having applied them long enough to be confident in breaking them, seems to be of benefit mainly in the artistic realms of life. In the writing realm, I’m certain we can all come up with a best selling author who broke basic rules taught to us by our many English teachers. Cormac McCarthy and E.E. Cummings are the first two to come to my mind. One day I may be in a position to break rules, but first I must learn them.

I’m in the process, of what I hope are the final edits on my first novella. So rules, or tips on how to strengthen a story, are forefront in my mind these days. I’ve discovered books filled with rules so numerous a writer might never write a word if they took the time to read and apply them all. Thus, for the purpose of this blog I will touch on just a few I found helpful.

1st Rule— Did I need to use the word just in my last sentence? No. I discovered I use the word just along with its friend only way too often. My writing mentor Liz Engstrom, would say never to use the word just. She would also add the following to the banned list of words: very, causing, here, this, now, and today.

I write short stories. The idea of writing anything lengthier seemed absurd to me. I almost, nearly, didn’t write the book.

2nd Rule—Did my last sentence make you cringe just (I told you I really like this word) reading it? Yes. Investigate, or take out: almost, kind of, nearly, and sort of.

I recently had the pleasure of spending three days with my tribe, my writing pals. What did I do at this valuable retreat? I found the 641 times I used the word was, and reduced it to 226! A simple word, yet when removed, it transforms the sentence.

“She was crying uncontrollably.” vs “She cried uncontrollably.”

3rd Rule—Investigate every use of: is, was, are, be, being, am, and were.

I am currently searching out the simple, humble word—it.

4th Rule—There is generally a better word for it. Investigate your use of, it.

I celebrated finding my last was, and then explained to my pals it was now my quest. This elicited a most interesting discussion on the infamous often mocked and parodied phrase written in the novel Paul Clifford, by English novelist Edward Bulwer-Lytton. I’ve never read the book, but know the phrase from my favorite cartoon beagle: “It was a dark and stormy night.” It—the phrase—is a classic. It breaks all the rules, but sometimes rules are there to be broken. Just make certain you have a very good reason for doing it.

What rules do you break and why?

 

Writing in Black and White

 

By Cheryl Owen-Wilson

When I write I see color. It is so important to me that my very first blog featured in ShadowSpinners was titled “Writing in Color”. As I create each scene paintings float through my mind. Vivid shades of red overlay scenes of anger or lust. Glossy vermilion sparks in my mind when writing about nature. Undulating blues flow over me when water is featured, and ribbons of yellow flit through happily ever after scenes. I could continue, but you get the idea.

If you follow my blog you know I’m also an artist. In the past six months I’ve been creating a series of paintings titled “Sounds of Southern Blues”.   Three of the paintings are complete and the last one will follow by the end of the month. The backdrops of each of the paintings have only shades of black and white and the accompanying grays they create. The only “color” in each one is the particular musical instrument featured. This style of painting is a first for me, and has been quite a learning experience.

Now is where you ask, what does this have to do with writing? Over the same span of time, the past six months, I’ve been knee deep in the final editing stages of completing a novella. This has been another first for me, since the only stories I’ve written in the past (at least for publication) have been short or flash fiction.

Here comes the black and white part of my blog. I’ve not written any new stories during this time. As a result, I came to a startling realization when I saw no color as I read a paragraph in my novella for what must’ve been the twentieth time. My familiar muse of seeing the words burst to life in Technicolor had abandoned me.  Both of my creative pursuits were seriously lacking in color!

Upon further investigation I came to the following conclusion. I’m only given the gift of writing in color during those giddy first stages of creating new worlds, meeting new people, and forming new ideas. Easily done when writing short stories. Not so easy when writing longer pieces. After this earth-shattering phenomenon sank in I began to wonder if I could actually complete my novella.

But never one to give up I found myself sitting the next day once again staring at the colorless paragraph. I was determined to complete the edits given to me by my publisher.

Have I mentioned I paint and write in the same studio? I looked away from my black and white story and over at the sax painting. Its shocking blue appeared to be visibly vibrating off its backdrop of black and white, and a thought began to form.

Yes, the sax spoke to me. Doesn’t the artwork in your home speak to you? It said I’d already created all the color my novella needed. What it now needed in these final edits were cohesive shades of black and white so the color could jump off the page just as it, the sax, was doing as it spoke to me. I looked back at my paragraph where ghost like glimpses of the color I’d created shone. They began to meld with the black and white creating a visible path. I followed the path through the paragraph I’d been struggling over, and as if by magic I found myself moving on to the next paragraph.

As I now work in finalizing the last few pages of edits, I’ve came to realize the color in my story would be nothing without what I now see as a black and white backdrop. It is what contains the filler, the mundane staging involved in writing something longer than a short story. Black and white are now the other colors I look for when writing.

So the next time you get bogged down in layers of edits, understand it’s just the much-needed black and white backdrop. Without it your readers will not be able to experience the vibrant, colorful, unique world you’ve created.

How do you psych yourself up to read your works in progress for the umpteenth time and get through edits?

 

“Saxophone in Blue” Original Painting by Cheryl Owen-Wilson

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