Write Right

by Peter

How nice that we who are still here may look forward to a prosperous 2018.  We hope our writing skills advance, our words enhance, our poetic words dance, and our stories advance because our wonderful group certainly has the talent to succeed and we wish each and every one the very best in this advancing year to come.

As we write, we should be very careful to not be too redundant by writing the same thing over and over again because it’s the repetition that is often responsible for readers falling asleep in the middle of their reading.

Don’t over write – a symptom of too little to say or too big an ego

Edit endlessly – reread, rewrite, shorten things you find unnecessary to convey your ideas

Remember, all you have to do is tell a fabulous story to make your readers love you

Go beyond the five senses, as in: hidden desires and anxieties:  “He stood there starring into the water, a little anxious.”  “He stood there just starring.  His mind refused to accept the fact that mostly submerged was a real live body, or what once was a real person…what now?”


When you decide to go to a restaurant for a special dinner, you enjoy the anticipation. You’ve committed to spending sufficient time and money, and now you’ve arrived, and the place looks good and smells good. You smile and order an appetizer. When it comes, you enjoy it as a foretaste of the larger, more complex courses that will follow, but you also savor it for what it is: a delicious dish, complete in itself. If it’s a truly great appetizer, you recognize it as an exquisite blend of flavor, texture, and temperature. And you’re happy because you know you’ll be in good hands for the entire evening.

Isn’t that what it’s like to begin reading a terrific book?

The first chapter is the appetizer—small, yet so tremendously important. And so full of potential.



Prologue in PnPAuthor's book just published

It was a late night in Brighton, New York when a gunshot sounded loud and haunting, Judith’s heart began hammering while adrenalin surged through her veins. Rushing to the guest house window, she peeked out; sweat prickled her forehead as she saw a dark figure squatted down, hiding behind a bush. Was it Abigail, her employer? She didn’t know, but she wasn’t brave enough to go outside to see. Stepping over to the switch, she turned off the lights and went back to peek out, again. The dark figure was gone. Scanning the darkened area, seeing no one, she eased to the door, cracking it open, and looked out. There was no movement, so she closed and locked the door. Treading to the table, she snatched up her cell phone and called Abigail, but she didn’t answer. Her pulse rate jumped to a frightening high, so she sat down near the window to calm down when she saw a movement running through the trees, then lowering to the ground, scooting along on her or his stomach; she didn’t know who. Her fear came in short gasps, as she moved away from the window. Wondering what she should do, she dropped into the chair and thought. Deciding to call the police, she stood up, grabbed her mobile, and called.

     “What is your emergency, please?”

     “Ah …ah, I heard a gunshot. Now I see someone running outside, hiding.”

     “Where are you?”

     “I live at 1090 Allene Creek, here in Brighton.”

     “To whom am I speaking?”

     “Judith Major. I’m Abigail Songo’s head-maid, and I live in the guest house, here. My assistant, Cee, won’t be back until tomorrow -she left for a few days.”

     “We’re sending someone out. Where is Abigail Songo?”

     “I don’t know. Last, I saw Abigail, she was in the main house, but just now, I called her, and she didn’t answer. Her former husband,

Richard has threatened her, claiming he’s going to kill her. We just moved from Pacific Grove, California.”

     “Stay inside until an officer gets there, but stay on the line until he arrives.”

     “Okay, but I don’t know where Abigail is. I…” Judith screamed as someone banged on her door.

     “Are you all right, Judith? Don’t open the door until an officer gets there.”

     The banging on the door continued until Judith thought she was going to collapse. She ran behind the couch, crouched down, peeked up, and saw the doorknob move. Leaping out of her hiding place, she ran out the back door, into the woods, looking over her shoulder to see if anyone was behind her, she saw a dark figure running from tree to tree. She squatted down, behind a bush, trying to catch her breath, telling herself to stay calm while nervously fumbling with the buttons on her shirt. The snapping of dead branches sent a chill through her blood. Peering around the bush, thinking she saw movement near the pond, she crawled over to a nearby tree. She waited. The air was moist and thick, with the smell of damp earth. In the distance, she heard voices but didn’t know who, or where they were. The darkness made her feel as if someone was moving near her, so she stood up, began to run in and out, around trees, stopping, out of breath, she sat down on the wet grass, mumbling in her head, steady, stay calm. She prayed the black figure couldn’t see her. It was dark, but she didn’t know. Suddenly, a shadowy body came closer and grabbed her arm. Her heart pumped faster until everything went fuzzy.

     Seconds later, opening her eyes, she saw two policemen standing over her, saying something, but she didn’t know what, because everything was a blur. Finally, she realized they were trying to help her stand up, and when she did, they asked her if she was all right. She nodded, knowing she was safe now.