What the Bee Knows

A bee wakes up in the morning, and knows what it needs will be provided. 

It simply gathers-in abundance.

There’s no fear that another will take what it needs. There’s plenty for everyone.

Connected to its hive and recognizing Oneness, it welcomes others to the feast. 

 

Wishing you a week of writing, good books, laughter, and abundance.

The Cult of the Short Sentence

Over the course of having my work critiqued in local writers groups I have gotten back this remark numerous times: This sentence is too long. It takes up two and a half lines, and should be made into two or more sentences.

Where does this belief that all sentences should be short stem from? Is it the result of the shrinking American attention span? Of over-exposure to ‘sound bites’ and commercials and texting and tweeting? Is it instilled by the pallid preaching’s of exhausted high school English teachers, struggling to cram some semblance of education into the hormonally preoccupied, marginally literate minds of teens hopped up on Red Bull and Monster?

I have listened while writers tell other writers that their flawlessly crafted sentence should be chopped into shorter lengths – “because it is too long, you see.” (And these were not sentences dealing with action…just to clarify.)

At a recent writers’ group meeting a lovely young woman who might someday – if she diligently studies craft and reads a lot – become a writer, told the group, with unblinking sincerity and conviction (for her JC English teacher had said so), that any sentence over 10 or 12 words was suspect of being a ‘run-on’ sentence. After a stunned pause while those around the table absorbed this proclamation a discussion followed, with some writers claiming that most readers don’t have the patience or intelligence to read a novel containing long sentences.

With the exception of age appropriate genres like children’s and YA, (and perhaps pulp fiction and detective novels), I disagree.

And so today, my darlings, to both rebuke and refute this erroneous thinking, I am going to regal you with very long, very beautiful sentences—written by literary masters.

If you belong to the Cult of Short Sentences, gird yourself:

The world soon to be largely populated by men who would eat your children in front of your eyes and the cities themselves held by cores of blackened looters who tunneled among the ruins and crawled from the rubble white of tooth and eye carrying charred and anonymous tins of food in nylon nets like shoppers in the commissaries of hell.

And another:

The soft black talc blew through the streets like squid ink uncoiling along a sea floor and the cold crept down and the dark came early and the scavengers passing down the steep canyons with their torches trod silky holes in the drifted ash that closed behind them as silently as eyes.

From The Road, by Pulitzer prize winning author, Cormac McCarthy.

It looked like those farmhouses you ride by in the country in the middle of the afternoon, with the chickens under the trees and the dog asleep, and you know the only person in the house is the woman who has just finished washing up the dishes and has swept the kitchen and has gone upstairs to lie down for half an hour and has pulled off her dress and kicked off her shoes and is lying there on her back on the bed in the shadowy room with her eyes closed and a strand of her hair still matted down on her forehead with the perspiration.

And another:

I ate roast duck stuffed with oysters and yams and that wonderful curry they make in Savannah, which tastes good even to a man like me who loathes food, and drank rye whisky, and walked down those beautiful streets General Oglethorpe laid out, and stared at the beautiful houses, which were more severe than ever now, for the last leaves were off the arching trees of the streets and it was the season when the wind blows great chunks of gray sky in off the Atlantic which come dragging so low their bellies brush the masts and chimney pots, like gravid sows crossing a stubble field.

From All the King’s Men, by Pulitzer winning poet/author, Robert Penn Warren

“The Emperor Abul-Fath Jalaluddin Muhammad, king of kings, known since his childhood as Akbar, meaning ‘the Great,’ and latterly, in spite of the tautology of it, as Akbar the Great, the great great one, great in his greatness, doubly great, so great that the repetition in his title was not only appropriate, but necessary in order to express the gloriousness of his glory—The Grand Mughal, the dusty, battle-weary, victorious, pensive, incipiently overweight, disenchanted, mustachioed, poetic, oversexed, and absolute emperor, who seemed altogether too magnificent, too world-encompassing, and, in sum, too much to be a single human personage—this all-engulfing flood of a ruler, this swallower of worlds, this many-headed monster who referred to himself in the first person plural—had begun to meditate, during his long tedious journey home, on which he was accompanied by the heads of his defeated enemies bobbing in their sealed earthen pickle-jars, about the disturbing possibilities of the first person singular—the ‘I.’”

From The Enchantress of Florence  by Salman Rushdie  (contributed by writer, David Waid). In 2008, The Times ranked Rushdie thirteenth on their list of “The 50 greatest British writers since 1945″

It was a city in which the very old and the very new jostled each other, not uncomfortably, but without respect; a city of shops and offices and restaurants and homes, of parks and churches, of ignored monuments and remarkably unpalatial palaces; a city of hundreds of districts with strange names – Crouch End, Chalk Farms, Earl’s Court, Marble Arch – and oddly distinct identities; a noisy, cheerful, troubled city, which fed on tourists, needed them as it despised them, in which the average speed of transportation through the city had not increased in three hundred years, following five hundred years of fitful road-widening and unskillful compromises between the needs of traffic, whether horse-drawn, or more recently, motorized, and the needs of pedestrians; a city inhabited by and teeming with people of every manner and color and kind.

From Neverwhere by award winning author Neil Gaiman

“That something I cannot yet define completely but the feeling comes when you write well and truly of something and know impersonally you have written in that way and those who are paid to read it and report on it do not like the subject so they say it is all a fake, yet you know its value absolutely; or when you do something which people do not consider a serious occupation and yet you know truly, that it is as important and has always been as important as all the things that are in fashion, and when, on the sea, you are alone with it and know that this Gulf Stream you are living with, knowing, learning about, and loving, has moved, as it moves, since before man, and that it has gone by the shoreline of that long, beautiful, unhappy island since before Columbus sighted it and that the things you find out about it, and those that have always lived in it are permanent and of value because that stream will flow, as it has flowed, after the Indians, after the Spaniards, after the British, after the Americans and after all the Cubans and all the systems of governments, the richness, the poverty, the martyrdom, the sacrifice and the venality and the cruelty are all gone as the high-piled scow of garbage, bright-colored, white-flecked, ill-smelling, now tilted on its side, spills off its load into the blue water, turning it a pale green to a depth of four or five fathoms as the load spreads across the surface, the sinkable part going down and the flotsam of palm fronds, corks, bottles, and used electric light globes, seasoned with an occasional condom or a deep floating corset, the torn leaves of a student’s exercise book, a well-inflated dog, the occasional rat, the no-longer-distinguished cat; all this well shepherded by the boats of the garbage pickers who pluck their prizes with long poles, as interested, as intelligent, and as accurate as historians; they have the viewpoint; the stream, with no visible flow, takes five loads of this a day when things are going well in La Habana and in ten miles along the coast it is as clear and blue and unimpressed as it was ever before the tug hauled out the scow; and the palm fronds of our victories, the worn light bulbs of our discoveries and the empty condoms of our great loves float with no significance against one single, lasting thing—the stream.”

From The Green Hills of Africa by Pulitzer prize winning author, Ernest Hemingway  (Yes, this is all one sentence…all 424 words of it.)

Do you have a favorite long sentence? Do you know someone who fears them—for whom we might perform an intervention?

Faith, Let Go and Know

I hardly ever sit down and have nothing to write about. But it does happen occasionally. And sometimes I have written something and I know it can be better, but the rewrite magic just isn’t happening that day. These times can feel frustrating, and yes, even frightening. The trickster whispers in my ear. Thoughts of never being able to write anything again assault me. Fear of failure, fear of being a sham.

But then I have to laugh at myself. Because I know b.s. when I hear it. Especially my own. And I also know my ability to write will always come back to me. If I’m patient, and I have faith. I know it like I know the shape of my own hands. Like I know I love chocolate.

Faith has more to do with success than anything else. Even talent, I suspect. There are lots of talented people in the world who don’t have faith in themselves, and therefore will never experience success. Because they will give up on themselves during a week when the writing does not come easy. They will listen to that little voice of doubt that thrives in the absence of faith.

Faith was a long hard time coming to me. I lived much of my life in a constant state of battle readiness. Before I found faith I saw the world differently. As an adversary. Something to be withstood and on guard against. Everything had to be perfect and under control. I did things fast and made snap decisions. I was highly competent at my day job, but hated almost every day I had to go to work.

Then something happened. One day I was driving home after a deal had gone to the very deep south. It was a big one and would’ve meant a lot of money. And I found I didn’t care. I had worked hard to close the deal and I would have liked to close it. But it really didn’t matter. I looked through the windshield of my car and noticed the trees were greener than usual, and the sky was the perfect blue of a robin’s egg, and something loosened in my chest and in that moment—I was blissfully happy. Just to be alive.

It wasn’t any one incident, though. But a slow accretion of insights and synchronicities. Over time I became who I am meant to be. Fully, completely.

I’m not going to share every detail with you. It’s personal. But I want you to know: there’s something deeper, something you may not know about, may not even have suspected. And it has to do with you. There’s only one of you. You are a unique expression. In all the dawn’s of humankind there will only be one who is exactly you. We are like snowflakes. And just as temporary in this incarnation.

Think about that…

If you haven’t found it already, your deepest self is waiting to be found. Waiting for you to come home to the knowledge of who you really are. It can be found in a place beyond religion, beyond politics, beyond the idea of national borders.

And when you find it you’ll know. And you’ll never be afraid of failure again. The blank page will cease to be scary.

Writer’s block? You’ll laugh at it. You’ll see right through it. You’ll eat a sandwich and take a nap, knowing when you wake up you’ll be on fire to write, the muse will whisper to you and the words will flow from your fingertips.

Queen Defiant Review and Interview with Author Anne O’Brien

Anne O’Brien’s historical novel Queen Defiant whisks the reader into the world of one of history’s most fascinating and influential women. Married off at just 16 to Louis, monk-king of France, Eleanor, Duchess of Aquitaine, must endure a cold and lonely existence in the primitive citadel on the Ile de la Cite. As queen of France life should be wonderful. But it’s not. Vibrant, educated, and used to the lush culture of Aquitaine, Eleanor cannot resign herself to the harsh, colorless life of Paris in the 12^th century. Her husband would rather spend his days, and nights, on his knees before the altar of Notre Dame, and the clergy who surround him dislike the new queen.

Eleanor does battle for control of her destiny with zealot Bishops and a Pope, she follows her husband on a crusade that ends in ignominy,  and fights off the wily machinations of a malicious eunuch, Thierry Galeran, who plots to keep her isolated and powerless. Eleanor perseveres through fifteen years of marriage with a man who rarely touches her, and then only out of duty and a desire for an heir for France.

Eleanor’s search for love and a man worthy of her leads her into two reckless love affairs. There she finds physical fulfillment, but no rescue from her predicament.

Eleanor’s quest for personal freedom eventually allies her with a man eleven years younger than herself: Henry Plantagenet, the nineteen year old Duke of Normandy and future King of England. Leaving behind her two little daughters by Louis, Eleanor obtains her longed-for annulment and flees Paris.

While her life with the remarkable and passionate Henry offers an end to her longing for a husband who desires her, we are left knowing this union will have its own challenges.

Ms. O’Brien’s prose is smooth and uncomplicated. Her characters’ speech is not overburdened with archaic expressions, yet still evokes the time period. She has obviously done a good deal of research and it makes this story pleasurable to someone like myself, who loves all things medieval.

I very much enjoyed reading this novel, and recommend it.

Below is my interview with the author.

Author Anne O'Brien

How long have you been writing historical fiction and how did you decide upon that genre?

I started writing seriously eight years ago.  I had tried my hand at short stories but decided that I should go for a full length novel.  I wrote historical romances for Harlequin Mills and Boon – ten in all, ranging through medieval, to English Civil War and Restoration, and Regency – but my ambition was to explore the personalities who had lived and shaped our history.  And so when I came across Anne Neville, wife of Richard III, I realized that I knew very little about her and decided to investigate.  This became her story in The Virgin Widow. 

And why history?  I cannot recall a time when I did not enjoy history, either reading it or visiting historic sites.  My academic qualifications are in history and I taught history in my previous professional life.  It seemed an obvious choice to me because the past can be so vivid with such marvelous characters and events to feed the imagination.  I have never regretted it.

Do you do your own historical research?

Yes, most definitely.  It is part of the enjoyment of the whole process, discovering the hidden corners of a character’s life as well as the general sweep of the time in which she lived.  I enjoy how new discoveries open up different possibilities in the plot, sometimes taking me in a direction I had not at first seen.  And when all the pieces fit together, it can be incredibly satisfying.

I use the internet – and increasingly so as more articles and documents are available, but I enjoy books far more.  I am a curling-up-with-a-book type.  I live near Hay on Wye, the book town on the Welsh border.  It is a splendid place for browsing and picking up books that add something extra or give a different slant on what I am writing.  The problem of course of doing my own research is that when I lose a reference, or can’t remember where I noted down a particularly vital event, I have to find it myself.  It can be very time consuming and infuriating – and I have only myself to blame for being careless in the first place!

How did you meet your agent?

I met my agent through the pages of the Writers’ and Artists’ Yearbook.  When I had completed The Virgin Widow I followed that pattern of many aspiring authors and sent out the first three chapters to agents who might be interested in the historical genre.  It was a lengthy and nerve-racking experience and I, like many others, had to be prepared to accept rejection.  It is all character very forming!  And such a very long process.  But eventually, success.  My agent Jane Judd liked my work and asked to see the whole novel – and the rest is history!  She has been an invaluable friend and counselor ever since.

What made you want to write about Eleanor?

I discovered Eleanor, many years ago when I first came across The Passionate Brood by Margaret Campbell Barnes.  It is a splendid novel of the Plantagenet family, focusing particularly on Richard the Lionheart and the mythical character of Robin Hood, but Eleanor made a striking appearance in it.  I loved the book, and this Plantagenet family had me enthralled for weeks.  I was delighted when it was reissued recently.  I read it again and discovered that it had the same charm as I had remembered.

And then I crossed Eleanor’s path again in the classic film Lion in Winter (1968), with Katherine Hepburn playing a magnificently aging Eleanor opposite an idiosyncratic Peter O’Toole as Henry.  They portray a stormy, volatile couple, unable to live together in peace in the final years of their marriage.  When I think of Eleanor as she was in later life, I still see and hear Katharine in that role.  The costume was excellent, and the atmosphere of those turbulent times in the twelfth century was very powerful.  I was hooked.

The idea for a novel about Eleanor did not come until two years ago – 2009 – when Eleanor’s early adventures were so compelling that I felt I must write about them.

What did you find out about Eleanor that was unexpected?

I think it was the scale of the opposition to Eleanor that surprised me. The Frankish court had always made derogatory comments about the Aquitainians, finding them louche and ‘better feeders than fighters’ but Eleanor’s frivolous nature and appearance, and her dabbling in politics, earned her condemnation on a far more personal level from Louis’ minister Abbot Suger and from the church in the form of the saintly Bernard of Clairvaux.  On crusade, her reputation was irreparably ruined when blame for the French losses was placed at her door.  The vicious rumors about her conduct and private life were many and long lasting. 

It struck me that Eleanor must have had remarkable spirit and self-belief not to be affected by this chorus of antagonism.  And yet from all we can discover she held her head high and overcame it all.  For a woman living in the twelfth century, even a woman of noble birth, she was truly impressive.

What book of yours is your favorite?

A difficult one!  I have a very soft spot for Anne Neville because she was the first character I researched and wrote about in depth.  I think she will always remain very close to my heart.  But Eleanor is the one who spoke most loudly to me when I was writing Queen Defiant.  Her character was well formed from the very beginning, and I felt that she drove my writing through to the end.  I think she is my favorite character simply because she is so full of vitality, and perhaps will always be.  Perhaps until my next heroine comes along …

What are you working on now?

My next novel for release in 2012 is already complete and with my editors at NAL.  It is The King’s Concubine.  The ‘heroine’ is Alice Perrers, the notorious mistress of King Edward III, of whom we know very few actual facts, only what was said about her in her lifetime.  I felt an urge to write about her because she has such a bad press from her contemporaries and I thought that no one could be quite as thoroughly bad as she was painted.  Her critics, of course, were all men who resented her pre-eminence, so that encouraged me even more.  I thought I should give Alice the opportunity to speak out and put her own side to the story.  Not that she was whiter than snow.  Alice proved to be a heroine not in the usual mode.  I found it a challenging experience, but a fascinating one.

I am now taking my first steps into the life of Katherine de Valois, the wife of King Henry V.  She is very different from my previous heroines, experiencing a life of both tragedy and happiness.  I am enjoying discovering about her, and I do not think that she was as lacking in spirit or intelligence as she has sometimes been portrayed.  Early days yet.

What are you reading now?

I am reading an early copy, for endorsement, of the debut historical novel The Sister Queens by Sophie Perinot which will be released by NAL next year.  I knew very little about the two sisters, Eleanor and Marguerite of Provence, who became Queens of England and France.   I am finding it most enjoyable as it opens a window into life and politics in the two courts in the 13^th century.  It is certainly a novel to look out for.

Tell us something about yourself that no one knows.

Oh dear!  Is this baring my soul? 

I am something of a control freak when it comes to writing.  I like lists which I can check off as I have completed tasks I have set myself.  I have to get up early, when all is calm and quiet, and deal with admin and emails, and social media.  Then I can concentrate and enjoy getting down to writing.  If something interrupts my early morning planning, I am not happy!  I enjoy holidays of course when I am not writing and can relax – without any lists at all! – but otherwise I am a lost cause.  I accept that I have to be organized – and it works for me.

This ‘control freakiness’ is not something I usually admit to – and now all your readers know!

If you would like to purchase Queen Defiant simply click on the photo of the cover in the sidebar.

If you’d like to become a fan of Anne O’Brien she can be found on Facebook and on Twitter.