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I published 2 books on 1st August - one a novel by me and one a non-fiction by Teresa J Bird and I - and though the first was started 8 years ago and the 2nd 2 months ago, they encompass the same theme, coincidentally. 

Scars Could Love is a thriller/romance novel is about a solo mother, and her 13-year-old daughter, who has been abused and finally stands up for herself and her community. It contains guidance for people - especially women and girls - to help them stay safe ... a manual and a novel in one.

Authentic You is part of our new workshop series, helping people step out of the insanity of this world and be led by the sanity of their hearts and souls. We'll be helping people step into the integrity of their power, passion and purpose.

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I've just finished writing my 23rd book, Scars Could Love, and people tell me I should make videos to promote it. However, writing is not a spectator sport so I had to become imaginative and create a series of videos about the life of writers ... well, this writer, anyway.

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Telling is when the author summarizes or uses exposition/description to simply tell the reader what is happening. Showing is about using description and action to help the reader experience the story.

 Example 1: 

TELLING: When they embraced, she could tell he had been smoking and was scared. 

 SHOWING: When she wrapped her arms around him, the sweet staleness of tobacco enveloped her, and he shivered. 

 Example 2: 

TELLING: Candice was anxious about how late she was.

 SHOWING: Candice’s eyes flashed to her phone. 9:33. She picked up her pace so it matched that of her heart, scampering down the hall. She had yet to climb two floors before reaching class. Again, her eyes flashed to the clock. 9:35. Couldn’t time slow down? Just for one morning!

 Example 3

TELLING: It was eerily quiet on the road until the sound of footsteps terrified me.

 SHOWING: Crunching hit my ears from behind, accelerating the already rampant pounding of my heart.

 4 RULES FOR DESCRIPTIONS

 1. Do not lead with exposition. 

This is a common mistake. Your first scene should definitely be one we can observe firsthand to get us quickly into the story ("the narrative hook"). Use dialogue, description, characters' thoughts: whatever will dramatize your opening.

 2. Match exposition to pace. 

The faster paced your story, the shorter your expository sections should be. An action story must be shown. We want to be there! If your tale relies on events piling up on each other at dizzying speed, keep up the speed by including only very short pieces of exposition, since exposition almost always slows a reader down. Conversely, if yours is a leisurely tale with many literary digressions, you can tell us much more.

 3. Try to alternate shown scenes with told exposition. 

If your reader has been given a rousing opening, he will usually then sit still for at least some exposition. But be sure to follow that chunk of telling with one or more dramatized scenes. That's much more effective than being given section after section of telling. Remember: The reader wants to feel present, a fly on the wall, for as much of the story as is feasible.

 4. Always show your climax. 

The climax is the place where the opposing forces in your story finally clash. This is true whether those opposing forces are two armies or two values inside a character's soul. The climax needs to be as vivid as you can make it, and that means dramatizing it with every narrative tool at your command: dialogue, action, description, thoughts, feelings. Put us right there.

Your Homework:

Turn either or all of these telling sentences into showing ones:

1. My mother was being overprotective.

2. Harry rushed out of the house in anger.

3. It was autumn and very cold outside

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For those who hate planning their book, here is the simplest way to plan your book - the plan you do when you're not planning.

Planners tend to plan their books before they start. Pansters, on the other hand, tend to avoid planning until they get into trouble, usually near the end of writing their book. This is the worst time to do any planning as there's so much to change. So, try this simple method of creating a story structure, BEFORE you start writing. Enjoy! :-)

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Don’t emphasise for emphasis

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Along with redundancy, one of Stephen King’s (whose books have sold more than 350 million copies) pet peeves is the overuse of adjectives and adverbs. After you’ve finished your first draft, he suggests, go back and take out 10% of what you’ve written – especially the adjectives and adverbs. They’re supposed to strengthen the writing but, most of the time, they weaken it.

A recent issue of People Magazine refers to an “incredibly popular, groundbreakingly racy sitcom.” That’s tough to say even when you don’t have to move your lips.

In Still Life with Crows, Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child describe a mysterious row of corn in the middle of a field: “It was, in fact, the only row that actually opened onto the creek.” Here are two attempts at emphasis (“in fact,” “actually”), but they just junk up the sentence. 

Remove them both and the word “only” carries the burden of the sentence with efficiency and precision: “It was the only row that opened onto the creek.”

The simpler, the more powerful.

Other emphasis words are very, so and quite.

Read these sentences out loud with the words in and out:

He was very tall … he was tall.

She was quite picky … she was picky.

The writing is generally more powerful without the emphasis words and the best test is to read it out loud.

Repetition

Just about every writer unconsciously leans on a “crutch” word. Hillary Clinton’s repeated word is eager. Cosmopolitan magazine editor Kate White uses quickly over a dozen times in A Body To Die For. Jack Kerouac’s crutch word in On the Road is sad,” sometimes doubly so - sad, sad. Ann Packer’s in The Dive from Clausen’s Pier is weird.

The editor for my last Australian thriller, Scars Can’t Tell, found 1,011 exclamation marks!

Commas

Commas are those funny little things that suggest a pause between words. To decide whether a comma should be there or not, read the sentence out loud to yourself. If you pause, momentarily, between any words, there should be a comma there. If it’s a longer pause, there should be a semi colon and, if you stop for a longer pause, a full stop is needed.

Some say that a pause for half a second should be shown with a comma, a full second is a semicolon and longer is a colon or a hyphen … or a new sentence. Again, read your writing out loud and you will know what’s best.

To break it down, there are four main reasons for commas: 

·           After an introductory element: There should always be a comma between an introductory word or phrase and the rest of the sentence. For example: In the novel Twilight, Bella lives in Forks.

·           In a compound sentence: A compound sentence has two or more parts that could each be a single sentence, joined by a conjunction. Before the conjunction, insert a comma. For example: The recipe sounded simple, but Julie burnt the cookies.

·           With a non-restrictive element: If there is a part of a sentence that could be removed, and the sentence would still make sense, use commas before and after to separate it from the rest of the sentence. For example: On wikiHow, the world's largest how-to manual, there are over 100,000 how-to articles.

·           In a series: When making a list, it's best to have a comma after each noun, unless you're a journalist. For example: Jane needed to buy milk, eggs, cheese, and butter.

Now you can astound your friends, at a literary cocktail party, with your

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When inspiration hides, we can step away and wait till it returns. The alternative is to keep writing. Sometimes creativity needs help to arise and we've just keep writing to lever it out - writing the boring, uninspired words till they turn into inspired ones. Or writing nonsense for a while, till that nonsense opens our minds and lets in something more creative. This exercise was to write two silly limericks and then around 500 words on an attribute or an emotion. Here is my example, below:

Little Miss Muffett sat on her tuffit
Then thought, “Oh, what the hell, stuff it!
I need a drink
And time to think.”
So got blind drunk at the pub called Jimmy Ruffitt

Mary had a little lamb
Its face was smeared with jam
It made lots of noise
Then broke all the toys
And then ran off with the naughty old ram

CRAVING EMBARRASSMENT
“I really like feeling embarrassed,” said our yoga teacher, Lilian, chatting to a friend after the session, as we were leaving … as she recounted an embarrassing and hilarious event. “I really like feeling off centre, not quite in control. I can really sense who I am, how I’m feeling. I feel so present to everything.”
Well, I thought, most people strive to avoid embarrassment, to avoid being wrong-footed, to avoid being wrong.
Most of our behaviour, it seems, is directed by our Mr or Mrs Fearless; that part of us that is ever alert to fear and always helping us to fear less – following rules, no matter how insane they are. Avoiding embarrassment. Avoiding not looking good. Avoiding risks. Avoiding rejection. Avoiding standing out. Avoiding feeling anything. Avoiding feeling. Avoiding life.
Some realise that to avoid embarrassment is to not speak up.
To avoid rejection is not to ask.
To avoid risk is to stay safe, stay inert.
To avoid not looking good is to avoid life.
To avoid feelings is to … well, avoid feelings, to step back from all of them – sadness and happiness, anxiety and excitement, drama and peace, rejection and acceptance.
To live in avoidance – in the grip of the Fearlesses – is to live that middle line, the inert line that never wavers, is always predictable, certain and safe. That’s exactly where the Fearlesses want us to be. Safe from diseases and health, safe from hot and cold. Safe from boredom and the unexpected. Safe from judgement and love. Safe from feeling. Safe from life.
Some of us get to an age when nothing matters any more. A stage that we just see frightened little egos running around avoiding fear, avoiding each other, terrified of life.
From the Fearlesses we learn that feeling numb is good and all else is bad. They tell us that it’s best to feel nothing and, as soon as any feelings arise, we’ve got to step back. Stop living. Stop expressing. Stop relating with others. Return to addictions.
The problem is that, sooner or later, we’ll bump into people and situations that arouse our feelings. That’s inevitable.
Then something happens.
Maybe we just become old and stop caring what others think or say.
Maybe we undergo some trauma – divorce, bankruptcy, war, theft, assault – and realise, later, that we’re still alive. Despite the explosion of negative emotions – where Mr and Mrs Fearless didn’t protect us – we’re still functioning, the sun still comes up and the biggest surprise of all … we are able to return to snatches of joy, peace and contentment. Not all the time, probably, but enough happy moments to give us hope of more.
Then we might realise it’s not possible to have a happy thought without a sad one. We can’t have excitement without boredom, peace without drama.
The straight and predictable green line through the middle of all – avoiding all – is

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If we aren't clear about our descriptions, especially when there's a change of time and/or location, readers disengage with our writing. Like radio announcers, we only have our words to hold our readers. We know what we're writing about but our readers don't. This is my first attempt at describing my commute to work - an hour's cycle ride to Surfers Paradise.

CYCLING TO WORK
The boom gate goes up and down as I cycle out of the confines of the over-fifties complex and, before me, is the openness of nature. The serpentine cycle track ahead wends its way through mower-loved grassland and between trees verdant with birds of every screech and squawk imaginable – magpies, cockatoos, parrots, lorikeets, kookaburras – while silent ibises strut about like officious rubbish collectors.
To my left is the tidal lake with the shy, rising sun pouring golden syrup across the rippling waters.
I’ll say hello to Pete with his poodle, Jack with his … yes, his Jack Russell, Marjorie with her clacking walking stick and other regulars in this early-morning sunshine.
Some strangers look startled as I greet them, speeding by, and I know, in a few days, they’ll initiate the greeting and raise their eyes above the ground. Connecting with transient others is a learning curve.
Black is still the new black in town but, here, it’s every other bright colour imaginable. Is it that they’re retired and free, that they live close to nature or some other reason? Not a black garment to be seen and their smiles and banter are as vibrant as their attire.
There’s two men in waist-high water, casting their nets and then an old chap sitting on the lake-edge with his line out and pug dog snoozing wheezily beside him.
Three hundred yards later, two teenagers have clambered over the security gate and are fishing off the private wharf. I yell gidday, give them the thumbs-up and they laugh back – a shared celebration of victory for harmless anarchy.
After five minutes of weaving round curves and dodging walkers deaf to my bell, I break out into a cul-de-sac as trees give way to houses on my right, the inflowing lake my constant companion on my left. Then through another, shorter forest ride.
I appreciate that every tree and bird call is different as I zoom out into another street – square is the shape of houses and the colours are limited to white, beige and grey. No one would dare painting their abode in green, red, green or blue. Like the black clothes in town – and in every café – we don’t want to stray from the unspoken rule about being different, like everyone else.
Mind you, when I get to work I will change out of my green and white lycra and into my slacks and business shirt. We’re all captives of the rules of engagement, somehow, aren’t we!
So, half an hour along the black and white road, watching every black and white car – lest they’re not watching me – I come to the Big Blue, the Labrador beach with the screech of seagulls and smell of brine. This is another concrete path for bicycles, prams, wheelchairs, walkers, runners and dogs … and two chaps cycling along with a budgie on each of their shoulders.
As I cycle closer to Surfers Paradise, the colours, body-shapes and languages increase in variety – the whole planet sampled in this holiday microcosm. The other preponderance I notice is, as the relentless waves play their calming music beyond the smooth sand, are bodies puffed up with exercise and steroids as they stiffly strut their tanned skins before us. Pete, Jack and Marjorie think these people are funny but they regard themselves with grave seriousness.
And I wonder … does the water’s inability to judge encourage people’s creativity and variety? Does nature allow us to be our unabashed selves in

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Make your story structure fit the way we live, so readers will engage more with your novel, short story, memoir or non-fiction book. And a story including the first 3 stages of Joseph Campbell's Hero's Journey is below:

CHANGING GLORIA SOAMES
Arthur Soames had a wife whose movements he could predict with unnerving accuracy: Monday – vacuum floors, clean toilet and roast pork for dinner. Tuesday – wash towels and sheets, her tapestry group and then steak and chips for dinner. Wednesday – wash clothes, clean kitchen and chicken Kiev for dinner. And so on.
It had never occurred to him, an accountant, to change anything. He was happy with their routine … well, that was until he realised computers were infecting his occupation and could take over his job. He resisted these new-fangled gadgets for years, until he acknowledged his dwindling clientele meant his expenses were more than his income. He felt hot and bothered at that thought but resisted telling Gloria. He knew what she was like when her mother died and his manly pride couldn’t admit his failure as a man and then upset his fragile wife.
But these pesky computers didn’t go away and so he rehearsed a speech at work, many times, fortified himself with a three-sugar cocoa drink and stormed to the front door with all the effrontery of a penguin defending its nest. However, that effrontery evaporated like a politician’s promise as Gloria met him in the hallway, wearing black heels, black slacks and a white business shirt with a coloured logo on the pocket.
His mouth hung open like a broken purse and she smiled as she’d never done before, like she’d just stolen the last cookie.
“Can we have a chat, Arthur?” she asked, waving towards the table that had been set with teapot, teacups and a platter of several biscuits. Definitely not the Yorkshire pudding he was expecting.
He complied dumbly with a thousand thoughts whirling round on his brain: Is this the I’ve-had-enough divorce talk? The I’ve-found-another-man talk? The I’ve-discovered-I’m-a-lesbian talk? The I’ve-been-diagnosed-with-cancer and have three months to live talk?
“First thing, Arthur,” she said as she sat and poured the tea, “is that this change is all good. For both of us. No bad surprises.”
He nodded dumbly while his brain wondered how any change could be good.
“See, since my mother’s funeral, I have been struggling …”
“You have?”
“Yes, Arthur, and I didn’t know how to tell you how sad I was and how paralysed I felt.”
“I know that …”
“Please, please let me finish.”
“Oh, right.” His brain had shut down, now that it was out of questions.
“Despite the paralysis, there was the urge to go on as it hit me that we only have one life. One chance. We don’t get a rerun.”
“Oh.” Is she considering suicide?
“I also know you’re stuck in a rut with your business and need space to step back and rethink.”
“Oh, gosh.” He didn’t know he needed that.
“So, over the last six months I have been doing a real estate course.”
“You didn’t ask me,” he said, plaintively.
“I knew you wouldn’t agree so I used my meagre savings and, yesterday, qualified and, this evening, I have my first client.”
“You’re a real estate agent?” He tried to squeeze this new occupation into the small box he’d built for her in his mind. It didn’t fit.
“Yes, naturally!” She smiled gloriously and she really did look beautiful.
“Why naturally?”
“What’s my name, Arthur?”
“Uh, Gloria Soames.”
“And that’s what I’ll be selling. Glorious homes.”
They laughed together for the first time since the funeral.

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Wisdom, senility, nicotine, fluoride and standing for Truth ... everything we've been told is bad for is actually good for us and vice versa.
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When we attach to a truth we eliminate all other possibilities ... we limit ourselves. "Truth" is a blinder and stops us seeing other possibilities. It limits our creativity.