Category Archives: Writer’s Group

Anthology deadline approaching

For members of the HWG who are considering submitting to the annual anthology, the deadline for submissions on Writer’s Bloc 8 is fast approaching. You have until midnight of October 31, 2016. Rules are below:

What to Submit:
Your best one (1) edited work of fiction, nonfiction, poetry, or a teaser from your novel
How to Submit:
Email your completed submission to —
HWG Secretary Audrey Balzart at audrey101@aol.com
Formatting Guidelines
No more than 4,000 words
Word document (Word 97-2003 or later, electronic format only)
One (1) inch margins all around
Double-spaced
Times New Roman or Courier 12 pt font
Work should include a Header with the Work Title and Page Numbers (may include author’s name)
Cover page with:
Author’s Name
     Title of Work
     Type of work (fiction, nonfiction, poetry, teaser)
     Word count
The cover page can be part of the work’s document or a separate Word document—NOT just in the body of the email.  Do not add the words from the cover to the work’s overall word count.
Submissions not following these guidelines will be returned and can be resubmitted if they meet the deadline.

Following The Still Small Voice Within

Austin Gary will be the speaker at our February 22 meeting at Community Lutheran Church. Gary’s new novel, A Delicate Dance, was published in December 2015 and received a 5-Star Clarion Review from Foreword Reviews, and was a finalist in the (novel-in-progress) for the 2014 Faulkner Wisdom competition, his fourth novel to receive this distinction. He’s also a two-time finalist for the IndieFab Award. His novels, Miss Madeira and Genius have both been adapted into plays.

Austin

 

 

Lyn Robertson steps up

As you may recall, due to some unknown difficulties, the church closed the evening that Lyn was to speak. Now, the originally scheduled speaker for Feb 8 has had to bow out. Lyn has graciously stepped up to the plate.

Self-proclaimed allegorical hit man, Lyn Robertson, will be at the Henderson Writers’ Group on Monday, February 8, 2016, for a short discussion on saving the editor and killing bad copy, or vice versa.

Lyn Robertson hacked into a career of art, history, and all things fascinating through a life of compulsive education and bibliomania. She has degrees in Creative Writing and Sociology, amongst others, with special interest in media and corporate communications and grammar policing. Lyn is a member of the Association of Writers and Writing Programs and the American Sociological Association. She has been active in various writing clubs, groups, and organizations across the country and written for several organizations and businesses nationwide.

The dreaded query

Oh, that dreaded query! We all hate doing them. We fret, we sweat, we swear – well, I do. But, if we want representation, if we want to be traditionally published, pitching that query the right way improves our chances of avoiding the Slush Pile or, worse, the Round File.

Putting together a good query letter, with all the proper components, is the hardest writing any of us will ever do. But, there’s help; an App for that, as we say.

Head on over to Get Published Now for Agent Shark Tank, Molli Nichols’ wonderful new YouTube series. You can watch and learn. you can even get your own query package evaluated.

Here’s how it works: Use the submission form on the Agent Shark Tank Page, and submit your query, following her exact instructions. If your query is scheduled for on-camera evaluation, she’ll contact you for permission before placing it on the schedule.

With the upcoming LV Writer’s Conference, this is an excellent resource for preparing for those pitches with the agents and acquisition editors on this year’s faculty.

Monday speaker

Don’t forget:

Self-proclaimed, allegorical hit man, Lyn Robertson, will be at the Henderson Writers’ Group on Monday, January 11, 2016, for a short discussion on saving the editor and killing bad copy, or vice versa.

Lyn Robertson hacked into a career of art, history, and all things fascinating through a life of compulsive education and bibliomania. She has degrees in Creative Writing and Sociology, amongst others, with special interest in media and corporate communications and grammar policing. Lyn is a member of the Association of Writers and Writing Programs and the American Sociological Association. She has been active in various writing clubs, groups, and organizations across the country and written for several organizations and businesses nationwide.

 

Lyn Robertson to speak

Self-proclaimed allegorical hit man, Lyn Robertson, will be at the Henderson Writers’ Group on Monday, January 11, 2016, for a short discussion on saving the editor and killing bad copy, or vice versa.

Lyn Robertson hacked into a career of art, history, and all things fascinating through a life of compulsive education and bibliomania. She has degrees in Creative Writing and Sociology, amongst others, with special interest in media and corporate communications and grammar policing. Lyn is a member of the Association of Writers and Writing Programs and the American Sociological Association. She has been active in various writing clubs, groups, and organizations across the country and written for several organizations and businesses nationwide.

Hallowe’en fun

This is your reminder about Spooky Story Night. It will be held Friday, Oct. 23, 6pm, at Darrah’s home. Cost is $10 per person and benefits the HWG. Remember, this is YOUR group and it needs your support.

The fun of the evening will be the Spooky Story Contest. Submit a piece of Flash Fiction, which will be read aloud. Those present will vote for the one they like best. Three prizes will be handed out, and then all stories will be included in an anthology published through CreateSpace. But, of course, there are rules!

Submission Guidelines

  • Contestants must attend Spooky Story Night event in order to be entered.
  • Entries cannot exceed 500 words.
  • Only one entry per person.
  • All entries must be e-mailed to Alba at aarango@cox.net, with SPOOKY STORY NIGHT as the subject heading, no later than Wednesday, October 21.
  • Entries limited to first 20 stories submitted. (first come, first serve)

But wait…there’s more. (Didn’t think we’d make it that easy, did you?) To be considered, each piece MUST contain the following ten words somewhere in the story:

spooky               dungeon          zombie             graveyard        skull         jack o’ lantern    glowing           cauldron          phantom          Henderson Writers’ Group

A Yuletide Tale

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A Yuletide Tale

By: Guess Who Wrote This?

“Why didn’t Trina come out to play today?” Nyx, the handsome woodland sprite asked. He was sprawled cross-legged at the base of a weeping willow tree taking a deep toke on the long-stemmed pipe he held between his teeth.

“Stupid sprite,” chided Rhiannon, “You have the attention span of a gnat.” She, a tiny blonde haired pixie was presently showing off. She flittered her wings as she hovered over a blade of grass causing it to sway to and fro. “How many times did Trina tell us that she wouldn’t be with us today – it’s a holiday.”

“Holiday? Which holiday?” Nyx asked blowing a perfect smoke ring in her direction

“Christmas.”

“Christmas?” Durin, the pale-faced elf now spoke. “Is that the one presided over by that vile Santa Claus creature?” He crinkled his nose and made a face that caused his pointed ears to twitch.

“Why so hostile toward the old one?” Rhiannon asked.

“He’s dirty, smells of chimney dust and his despicable treatment of the elves that work for him is well documented.”

The others laughed.

 

These three magical creatures lived in a clearing along a quiet brook beyond the yard of a big house in a land known as Texas.

Well, they didn’t exactly live there. They actually resided in the imagination of a young human female named Trina who lived in the house.

Trina first came in contact with Rhiannon on a rainy Saturday afternoon when she was five years old. There weren’t many other children her age in the area and she was often lonely. Rhiannon was a cobweb fairy that played beneath the girl’s bed and Trina welcomed this newfound friend.

When next they played outside, Rhiannon introduced the girl to Durin the elf and Nyx, the mischievous male sprite. Together they played every day for the next four years. Well, almost every day.

“So, she thinks exchanging presents and singing carols with her family excuses her from her duties here?” Nyx chortled like he was lord of the forest.

“Oh hush you! You are always so jealous whenever the poor girl spends time away.” Rhiannon flew close to the sprite’s nose flapping her wings and annoying him so much that he fanned her away.

“Presents…will she be bringing us presents?” Durin asked excitedly picking up on the only part of the conversation that interested him.

“No,” Rhiannon answered. “But she promises there will be marvelous food for us tomorrow.”

“Ghastly human food?” The elf again complained. “Animal flesh and vegetables they destroy by cooking and boiling?”

“No, delightful sweets, cookies and gingerbread – chocolate cake and candy gum drops tasting of spice.”

“Yummy.” Nyx rubbed his bare belly.

“It’ll give us all a tummy ache.” Durin warned.

Suddenly, Nyx’s eyes brightened and he sat straight up.

“Hold on! Christmas – isn’t that the one that has the tradition of the mistletoe?”

“Indeed.” Rhiannon answered.

“Remind me.” The sprite instructed.

Rhiannon was reluctant in this task. She knew Nyx to be one of the naughtiest of his kind, never missing a chance to peek up a female’s skirt, brush against a round bottom or steal a kiss in the middle of the night. But she obliged him. “Humans must kiss if they find themselves beneath a sprig of mistletoe.”

“Aha! I thought so.”

“What matters this, we have no hemi-parasitic plants at our disposal? The spoilsport elf intoned.

“But we do have smooth edged evergreen leaves and waxy red and white berries don’t we?” Nyx inquired.

“In abundance.”

“Then you can fashion some with twigs and your elfin tool kit?”

“Undoubtedly.”
“Seems a lot of trouble for just one little kiss.” Rhiannon observed.

“It’s worth it.” Nyx almost drooled in his lechery.

“Are you in such a hurry to send her on her way?”

“It is my job after all, is it not?” The sprite exercised his authority in the matter.

“Not Trina. Not yet anyway. She’s only nine.” Durin objected.

“Quiet elf! I spoke nothing of sending her on her way, only of stealing one naughty little peck. I was going to include you in on the action too.”

“A kiss for me, really?”

“Forget it now. Both of you have robbed the joy from the act.”

Nyx drew sullen and turned his back on his mates. Their accusations hurt his feelings. He ambled off deeper into the wooded glen, the elf and the fairy following.

They found him kneeling next to Trina’s Love in Idleness Flower, a three-petaled plant that bloomed white but turned a bold hue of pink with age. They all knew that in a few short seasons, it would be time for Nyx to pluck it from the ground and with great stealth carry it to the bedroom where Trina slept. There he would whisper a poem in the girl’s ear and gently squeeze the petals of the flower until the nectar spilled over her sleeping form. Her body would begin to change from that night on as the seeds of womanhood and the power of motherhood grew inside her. She would be vulnerable to the advances of boys and rely on the lessons taught by her human family to make informed decisions and proper choices. In time, even her woodland friends would fade from her consciousness to become a haunting memory.

But for now, the fairy and the elf were right. There was plenty of time.

It was then the creatures heard the sounds of singing coming from within the house. Human voices, normally such a grating cacophony that it hurt their ears and gave them headaches suddenly sounded mellow and peaceful. They moved dangerously close to the human abode to peer in a window from two opposite sides, the elf on one and the sprite on the other. Rhiannon streaked back and forth between her colleagues at a speed no human eye could detect. There they saw Trina and her family gathered around a triangular musical instrument called a Spinet whose tone was melodious.

They sang in a blend of voices harmonious and most pleasing. “Deck the halls with boughs of holly fa-la-la-la la-la-la-la la!”

“Boughs of holly is it now?” Nyx cracked wise.

“Tee-hee-hee” Rhiannon shouted out with glee.

“Fa-la-la-la-la?” Repeated Durin. “What fools these mortals be.”

Rhiannon chided, “Hush now you…it’s a Holiday.”

Come on, Guess, I’ll never tell until you Guess.

Andres.