Writing a Hallmark Christmas Movie~by Kim Hornsby

 I’m not going to tell you that I have a Christmas movie slated to start filming in June, a time of year when fake snow must be purchased by production companies and strewn about the Atlanta countryside. Or that we might just be watching this fictitious movie in the Hallmark lineup at the end of the year. 

However, I am a screenwriter and when it was suggested by my agent to write a Hallmark Christmas movie because the demand for 100 fresh scripts for 2019 was just announced, I jumped on the bandwagon and started typing words like “mistletoe” and “gingerbread.” 





I had one screenplay adapted from my novella, Christmas in Whistler, but it didn’t fit the template for Hallmark, with too much drinking of wine, nooky, and an antagonist that was just plain nasty. The second screenplay I pounded out last fall, is a wonderful story of patience and benevolence and hopefully will be sold to a cracker jack production company who does these Hallmark movies, but the female lead must sing like a Country star and not all Hallmark actresses can achieve that. Christmas in Crystal Creek, is a script for Carrie Underwood or an up and coming country singer looking for exposure.

As soon as I finished that one, I moved on to the next one, Christmas at Snowflake Lodge, the story of a double-booked snowy lodge where two groups must co-exist over Christmas, with opposing agendas. That one was firstly offered to a producer who was ripe for this story and interest was sparked.

Writing a Hallmark Christmas movie is not as easy as it looks when the writer is used to a lifestyle that isn’t the Hallmark way and can’t be shown on their channel because families are watching together. I had to take out all cuss words, throw the alcohol out, enroll everyone in church (or at least follow church values) and hide all piercings, tattoos and cleavage. No longer could my protagonists be badasses with dreams of revenge or one-night stands. They now had to want something purer and family oriented. My movies had to have a teachable moment for the kids watching with their parents. This was not easy for me because I don’t write for kids. 

The other thing that was hard was all the Christmas. I love Christmas like most people, but these movies are centered around ice skating on the lake, wrapping presents, gingerbread house contests, sledding in the snow, community activities that are totally decked out in Christmas garlands and jingle bells. The protagonist must work towards her dream among all this Christmas all the while falling in love with the guy who seems to be opposing her dream. There are only so many Christmas activities and things to do in the snow!

So, friends, I can’t tell you that I have this movie being filmed in June but I can tell you that I’m waiting for an email this week from my agent, and that there just might be a movie showing in December that features a lodge double booked by a caterer and her Christmas-loving family and an architect and his team hoping to avoid Christmas and work during the holidays. 




MY CARVING CORNER~By Ralph Duncan




There is something I love about shaping wood. I am not sure if it is the organic nature of a once living thing or just the texture and the tactile feedback through the touch of my fingertips.  
But, I love it and I love carving wood. 

Woodcarving was one of my first endeavors in making art-somewhere around the year 2000. It took a while to get the hang of handling the tools, especially the sharpening part. Oh yeah, I did go through lots of band-aids as well.

But, eventually, through copying pieces and watching others and lots of practice, I began to make some pieces I was fairly happy with. Sometimes they turned into a Santa or perhaps a shelf mouse that still looks over my shoulder when I am in the shop.  



Sometimes, it will be a hand carved and painted cedar sign. 



After a lot of copying and drawing practice, I started designing my own characters, like Spencer the rabbit here. Spencer is an anthropomorphized rabbit that made his way as an idea into my head and onto a sketch. After some refinement, he was transferred to two sides of a block of wood, and of course eventually a final carving “in the round.”


Eventually, carving details started appearing on a few small pieces of furniture I designed and built. This small mirror sold at a local art gallery.  


Another piece was this hall hull model of a classic tall ship. This hand-carved piece started out life as the detailed drawing of the ship’s hull shape, called “lines.”


Since around 1790, shipwrights and naval architects have been sculpting half hull models for the purpose of designing and visualizing new boat hull designs.  Somewhat sadly, these days hulls can be generated and modified in the blink of an eye through the magic of computer modeling. Today, the practice of “building” half hulls has been relegated more to creating a souvenir of a favorite boat, much like a painting. But, for some, like me, it is an opportunity to bring back to life (without building the whole boat) some of the old classics. With access to the ship’s lines, the famous schooner AMERICA can be proudly displayed for all to enjoy. 

When an artist, artisan, or craftsman creates a painting or object with his own hands, there is at that moment a direct and immediate connection between the touch of the object to his hands and this mind and heart. At the moment of creation, all that is that artist, all that is his environment, his passions and even the music he is listening to, is reflected in that piece. For this reason, each piece, though it may be similar to another, is unique unto its own.


It is my hope that when you pick up a piece of original art of any medium, you begin to feel some sense of the artist at the time the piece was created.  If you take home one of my carvings, I hope you will pick it up often, feel it in your hands – the facets, the texture, the weight – and each time you discover something new about your feelings for that piece.  




How setting makes the difference ~ by Author, Kristin Wolfgang

For my blog post this month, I thought it would be fun to share a short snippet of Star of My Heart, a romance novella I published in 2015. 



It’s set in a school in Hawai’i and in this scene, KT, the strong, independent female principal is interviewing a new teacher, Buck.




I enjoyed writing this story in a familiar setting. I like to write stories that take me back to places I love— it’s a different way to visit.



Enjoy!
************
Buck looked up, closed his portfolio, stood, and smiled. “Buck Pali. Pleased to meet you.” He extended his hand.

His rough calloused fingers surrounded her hand, enclosing it in a gentle warmth. A tremble ran up and down her body. She took a moment to regain her composure. 

“Let’s go into my office.” She turned and led him to her small office within the main office. As she walked, she tried to pull herself together.

She looked down at the resume and sucked in her breath.

Breathe, she said to herself, thankful that the rest of the interview team would show up soon. She felt warm and wondered if she was coming down with the flu.

“I’m so happy to have an interview with you, Ms. Tucker,” Buck said.

“I’m glad you applied, Buck. Please call me KT, everyone does. The interview team will join us in a few minutes. I like to meet with applicants alone first to get to know them better…on my own.” KT stumbled for the correct words, her stomach in knots.

Buck leaned back against his chair and KT noticed how good he looked in his dark pants, light blue shirt and striped tie. She could almost see his abs rippling under his shirt. She noticed with an amused smile that Miriam wrote BUCK in all caps with a purple sharpie on his visitor’s sticker. 

Oh, she caught herself again. What was wrong with her today? She just had to make it through a few more minutes until the team showed up.

“So, Buck, tell me about yourself.”

“OK,” Buck said, and looked down at his hands. “I went to Hilo High and UH Hilo. I wanted to be a dentist until I volunteered at Hilo Union Elementary School in tenth grade. I taught a group of boys about fractions. My teacher helped me with the lesson plan and I really dreaded it until I got there and met the kids.” He looked up at KT. 

She felt herself melt a little when his dark eyes widened and he smiled at her.

He continued. “To some people, it sounds strange, but teachers usually understand. At first, it was awkward, but when most of those boys understood how equivalent fractions work, and they were able to show me what they’d learned, I felt so accomplished. One of the boys still didn’t understand, so I spent some more time with him and showed him a different way. When he could finally do the class work, I felt as though we'd won a football game together. I couldn’t imagine how dentistry would be that fulfilling. I went home and told my parents I was going to be a teacher.”

She wondered how tall Buck was.

“Uh...Great.” She was strangely tongue-tied again. “Why do you want to work here?”

“I’ve been at Hilo Charter for a year and a half now and I love it, but the kids there are super bright and privileged. They do their homework, they listen, and they have their own computers and iPads. If they break rules, their parents get a phone call and they straighten up. If they don’t, they can get expelled and sent back to their home school.”

KT nodded, smiling.

“I don’t want to get comfortable and stay in that kind of environment for my whole career. I know a lot about your school, about how hard the teachers work to help the kids learn. I student taught at Manana Elementary and then they hired me and I worked there for my first six years. The kids there are a little like the kids here. I spent a lot of time with Dr. Meyer. I’m not idealistic; I know how hard it can be. I want to work here. So, when I saw the opening, I jumped at it.”

Someone knocked at her office door and a very relieved KT called, “Come in.” 

The interview team filed in and she introduced the special education teacher, Darlene, the literacy coach, Lora, and the fifth-grade teacher, Jackie as they took their seats. They used the standard interview protocol and asked him the same questions they asked at every interview. 

They all seemed to act normally, but KT felt as though a storm brewed inside her. Through most of the interview, she forced herself to stay in the room and not rush to the restroom. Her stomach rolled and her hands shook. What is wrong with me?




If you enjoyed this excerpt from Star of My Heart, visit Kristin Noelle Wolfgang's Amazon Author Page


You can also find Kristin here:

Lakeside Living 2: Nothing’s sacred to a beaver~by Ruth Ross Saucier

    When my house was first built it faced the lake and was surrounded by three vacant lots that were mostly forest. The privacy was perfect.

    Mostly.  There was a one sightline in the forest that needed plugging. So I decided to buy a couple of those cylindrical hedge trees [Arborvitae for those of you in the know]—they’d make a perfect screen and complete the privacy of my deck. 

 It was August. That’s never stopped me before; I plant when I’m in the mood, not when it’s good for the plant.  It was pushing 90 degrees and the humidity made breathing a soggy experience.  I found a couple five-footers and lugged them to the car. Once home, I lugged and tugged them along the side of the house and finally got them positioned. Just that much had me miserably hot and sweaty, but this was going to be the project of the day, dammit, so I persevered.

Stupid.  I grabbed a shovel and started to dig. Hardpan. The entire lot had a layer of hardpan a few inches under the topsoil, but normally you could break through it to soil that wasn’t a layer of cement without a lot of turmoil. This hardpan, though, went down about five inches and required getting out the pick. I had to make a bigger hole, too, since the roots needed someplace to go that wasn’t the texture of concrete. A couple of hours later this soft, namby-pamby librarian was soaked in sweat and huffing and puffing like Thomas the Train.  Sweat is running freely down every crevice and my clothes are sopped.


Three hours total and the trees were planted, staked, watered, fertilized, and ready for their new life guarding my privacy. I staggered inside and stumbled into the shower.  Cleaner but no less exhausted, I wobbled downstairs to get something to drink. Glugging down a second drink, I paused when I saw motion in the yard.  The next thing I remember, I was out the door, across the deck, flying across the lawn, and screaming incoherent threats.


      Waddling faster now that he had a demented banshee after him, a BIG beaver was lugging a five-foot-long Arborvitae branch to the water. I galloped right up to him and he, after calculating his odds of survival, decided to drop the branch and make a break for the water. I skidded up to the edge of the lake as he rose from his dive and slapped the water with his tail. 

       Sweating all over again, I whirled and scooped up my prize: a major branch off my newly planted tree. At least I had saved that!


       From the deck my husband Dan inquired, “Just what were you gonna do with him if you caught him? And hey, now that you got the branch back, whacha gonna do with it, Elmer’s?”


Writer, Not an Author? by Lexa Fisher


Photo by Kaitlyn Baker on Unsplash


When is a writer an author? Most people will have their own answer. Dictionary.com
says of a writer, “a person engaged in writing books, articles, stories, etc., especially
as an occupation or profession; an author or journalist, and a person who commits
his or her thoughts, ideas, etc., to writing.”


An author, on the other hand, is defined as a person who “writes a novel, poem,
essay, etc.; the composer of a literary work, as distinguished from a compiler,
translator, editor, or copyist, and the maker of anything; creator; originator.


Even with dictionary definitions it’s not easy to distinguish between the two.


The definition of published presents its own complexity when considering “self- or
indie-published” vs “traditional publishing”. Does the former lose prestige because a
publishing house hasn’t deemed the written work worthy of its time? Further, is
published a paperback? Hardback? Does e-book count?


Whether you prefer writer or author, a published writer/author then enters the world
of selling her stories. For this next episode in the author’s progression, I recommend
Marj Ivancic’s topic on April 3rd in this same space about an author selling her
books.


Photo by Hello I'm Nik on Unsplash

Published or not, the pursuit of writing has given me many opportunities to practice
the skill by providing articles for professional organizations I belong to, writing
technical documentation at work, and being able to participate in this community.
Writing expands my world through the conferences I attend and help
coordinate, and with friends who generously share their knowledge and
encouragement. Finally, after decades, thanks to these experiences I’ve gained
self-confidence.


Until that glorious day when my first book appears for sale, I take romance writing
classes, enter contests, get critique partner feedback, enjoy writers’ retreats, and
send my works out for professional editing.


My answer for myself is “a writer writes, an author is published”. I feel the need to
differentiate partly because to publish is putting your writing out there for others to
read. That is a sense of accomplishment in writing that I strive for.



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