Liz Tyner - Liz's Latest

Rio Grande Turkeys on the Plains

11/16/2019

These Rio Grande turkeys were spotted about ten miles from my house.

The one closest the camera is a tom, and his beard is visible. When I was a child, it amazed me that the beard grows from under his neck.

It's unlikely I'll look out my window and see a wild turkey, but it happens occasionally.

I enjoy hearing the gobblers, even if they wake me up on a morning I plan to sleep in. It's rare for a flock to venture close to my house, but sometimes it happens.

Photos © Liz Tyner

Writing 101: Do I add too much....

11/9/2019

A new writer might ask:
Do I put too much violence in the story? Too much dialog? Not enough dialog?
Too much backstory?

The answer isn't the same for everyone.

You can simply try to write a second version changing whatever it is you're concerned about. Put the story aside for a while, and go back and review both versions.

Get several friends to read a section of your writing, and listen to the comments objectively and watch for similar opinions. If several people notice a problem, then likely it's not just a matter of taste.

Be honest with yourself.

Photos From My World

11/7/2019

Denver Museum of Art

11/1/2019

Art can be a matter of perspective. Particularly modern art. One man's treasure and another man's trash, perhaps.

This photo was taken in front of the Denver Museum of Art, and if you look closely a seating arrangement is to the left, and a lady is walking away on the right, hardly visible.

I enjoyed the over-sized broom and dustpan, and whether they call it art, or housekeeping or merely decoration, I like it.

Arrow points

10/25/2019

Since I spent my childhood in the area near Spiro Mounds in Oklahoma, the artifacts that are uncovered there fascinate me. But even more than the double pointed arrows made by Native Americans, I liked the point on the bottom right. The shape reminded me of a missile. The person who crafted it must have taken extra time to get the shape as he wanted.

In my mother's childhood, she said her brothers constantly found arrowheads along a riverbank. In my earlier years, I only found one arrow, a broken one, and I believe I had one authentic one given to me.

Now, when you go to the tourists sites, you can buy arrow tips for $1. I don't know if they are machine made but my guess is that they're created with modern materials.

Now, if I ever find my arrow lying around, I won't know if it's authentic or was one of the ones I bought for $1.

The photos above are from Woolaroc, a museum near Bartlesville, in the Northeastern area of Oklahoma.

Emilie's "pool": Greenleaf and Tenkiller

10/19/2019

After the dust bowl swept Oklahoma, at some point it was decided that lakes would be a good thing for the area. Tenkiller dam was built. North of Tenkiller Lake is Greenleaf State Park. I lived in that area before the rest of the state truly discovered it.

When I was a child, on summer days, often the area would be almost deserted, except for my dad, my brother and me. Dad took fishing seriously, and I took playing in the water very seriously.

We didn't have air conditioning, but the water flowing from the bottom of Tenkiller lake remained cool, and even cooled the air directly around it about ten degrees.

I spent many summer days splashing in the water, looking for old fishing lures left by fishermen, and generally having the type of childhood that you look back on with fond memories.

Fresh fish...sure, you catch 'em, clean 'em and cook 'em over a fire on the riverbank. Once, without seasoning and stuck on the end of a forked stick.

It's better to take a picnic.
- - -
In It's Marriage or Ruin, Emilie gets to enjoy the natural pool at her new home.

The Perfect Valet

10/12/2019

Imagine the luxury of having someone whose sole duty in life was to make sure you were attired to perfection.

The bliss of it.

In It's Marriage or Ruin, Marcus is fortunate to have a valet.

An Excerpt with Robert speaking about being asked by the lady of the house to fetch a glass of water:
:
‘Water. A glass of water? To ferret out my chambers took her much effort and she didn’t even want the water that I got for her. I graciously forced myself to get it because I wanted to please her so she would leave me be—and she dunked a paintbrush in it.’

‘I will get her a lady’s maid.’ Marcus’s voice flowed lullaby smooth.

The valet forced words past his lips, enunciating each one. ‘I have sent a servant to wait on her, but that unwelcome person still seeks me out.’ Robert ran a hand through his white hair. ‘This isn’t the turn of events I expected. You have married in haste and I will repent in leisure.’

They went to the stairs.

Robert continued, affecting a woman’s voice as he followed Marcus. ‘“Open the door a crack. No, that is too open. No, that is too closed.”’

As they topped the stairs, Emilie waited, listening, and Marcus gave her a slight smile.

When Robert saw her, he said, politely to Marcus, ‘May I get you something, Lord Grayson?’

Twice, Marcus thought, twice Robert had addressed him as Lord Grayson. The man was upset.

He stared at Robert for a brief moment. Robert had a most calm demeanour, but a few strands of his hair were sticking straight up and that was not something Marcus had seen before.

Emilie glared at Robert and Robert looked over her as if she were not there.

‘Marc.’ Her head was high. ‘The servant...’ she pointed a finger at Robert ‘...threw a book at me.’

Robert glared at her. ‘It is not fitting for you to be in this servant’s bedchamber and I was merely bouncing it from the door in frustration in the hopes you would notice said door and leave.’

Photos From My World

10/10/2019

This raccoon didn't visit enough to be named, but I enjoyed seeing it on the few times it did drop by.

It's Marriage or Ruin, and Portfolios

10/7/2019

   Mother smiled one of those grim-lipped smiles after grandmother suggested I read one of my poems aloud. Mother was used to my poetry, and that particular poem was grim.

Mother liked the ones that I had secreted away and she discovered when she picked up my notebook. It was a SCHOOL notebook. I never expected her to look into it.

   I don't remember which ones she found, but I'd already made plans that I would someday write a book.

   She told me I shouldn't write poems if I didn't want people to read them. Many times she said, "Don't write down anything that you wouldn't want the whole world to see." (I got that part, but she neglected to tell me how I was to get the entire world to read it.)

In It's Marriage or Ruin, Emilie has a Flower portfolio. What are the odds I would put a flower portfolio in a novel and have it contain flowers? Not nearly as high as the odds that I would have it contain illustrations of the hero.

Excerpt:

He felt her fingertips at his sides and a tiny pull as she tugged at his waist.

‘Marcus. I must draw subjects several times before I absorb them. And I thought to get a new portfolio for the flowers of summer.’

‘Is that all you think of, Emilie?’

‘Marcus, you cannot know how much I ache for my work.’

He took a finger and traced the outline of her lower lip, watching the contrast of his skin against hers. The fullness of her lips entranced him. ‘It must feel so lonely inside. Not to have what you need most.’

‘Incredibly.’ She turned. ‘My mother burned one portfolio and would not even let me purchase a new sketchbook. I’m sure you understand. It is like wanting the taste of a confection and you can see it, and it’s right in front of you, but you cannot taste it.’

He pushed the words out of his mouth. ‘I have no idea what that would be like.’

Longhorns

10/5/2019

When I was younger, I'd only observed longhorn cattle on television shows, and then from a distance. It was only after I saw them closer that they began to fascinate me.

While my neighbors do have longhorns, I don't know the people or the cattle well enough to ask for photos. So, I go to a nearby historical site, roll down the window and hope to be able to take some photos.

They do have rules about not feeding the animals and staying in your car. And, about staying on the blacktop...

Normally, I prefer to drive on the blacktop, but this time I wasn't so sure.

The cows were not going to move... They were completely happy to stand in the road, probably hoping we'd ignore the no feeding sign. The horns looked vicious. I didn't want to have to explain longhorn dents to my auto insurance agent.

Luckily, I was with someone who knew cattle language. Really. He rolled down the windows and began sending them away, using the same sounds he'd probably learned when moving cattle as a youngster. It worked. One even slung her head while chewing her cud...opposite my open window. It was like slow motion...the one long string of spittle floating through the air toward me. Cattle snark goes a long way. I was told that it could have been a lot worse, and since I grew up running barefoot on a farm, I understood.