Softly and Tenderly
by Lisa Binion
How
to Get Ideas for Books
Before
I began to write, the complex plots in the books I read would amaze
me. I just could not figure out how the authors of these books came
up with such fantastic ideas. Since beginning to write, I have
discovered ways to come up with some terrific ideas.
Take
a look at your own life. Life has a tendency to throw you into all
kinds of situations, and each situation can be made into a story.
Softly and Tenderly came from the death of my mother when I
was nine-years-old. It was a traumatic time of life for me, and it
took me a very long time to recover from her death. I could have
turned it into a mystery or a story that made people cry. I could
have written events just as they happened, but I really would not
have been satisfied doing that. I chose to make it creepy.
A
few years ago, something happened to me that I’ll never forget. It
is something that I don’t want to live through again. While I was
out jogging, a spider must have fallen on my shoulder or in my hair.
That’s bad enough in itself, but when I discovered this spider on
me, it was in my ear. I didn’t realize at the time it was a
spider. All I felt were its legs as it crawled deep inside my ear.
Many excruciating hours later, I finally managed to coax it out by
about drowning it with hydrogen peroxide. It was one clean spider
when it hit the floor. I couldn’t let that horrifying event be for
nothing. I’m writing a book, Whisper, very lightly based on
what happened. Again, it will be a tale of horror.
If
you can’t decide on an event in your life to write about, take a
look at things that have happened in the lives of people you know.
Read newspapers and magazines to see what interesting things have
happened in the lives of people you don’t know. Check out current
events and what is happening in the world today.
When
you go shopping or go to town to pay bills, notice what is going on
around you and listen in on other people’s conversations. Just try
not to be too obvious about what you are doing. Is there someone you
see doing something unusual? Maybe someone is dressed in an unusual
way. Did you see someone walk away from their cart only to have
someone else come along and pick up an item out of their cart? Was
that arranged beforehand? Maybe it was a trade of some kind.
Perhaps
your neighbor has a strange habit. Does she walk outside every
morning at exactly the same time and look down the road? Is she
watching for someone? Why? And who is she watching for? I’m sure
you can come up with all kinds of interesting scenarios to explain
that.
Listen
to your muse. Pick up a sheet of paper and write down a word that
interests you, a word that has a lot of meaning for you. Now start
jotting down other words that your main word brings to mind. Before
long, a story should start to form in your mind. Keep at it long
enough, and you should have enough to start writing.
One
other way you can come up with ideas is to look at story prompts.
There are hundreds of these floating around on the Internet. A lot
articles on my BellaOnline Fiction Writing site have story prompts
included in them.
Story
prompts happen all around us each and every day. All you have to do
is notice them and build a story around them.
About The Author:
Lisa Binion is a writer, editor, and wife. She makes her home in the beautiful state of Kentucky. Her two children are now grown, but she has been blessed with two beautiful grandchildren, Tyler and Zoey. Her family also includes four dogs, four cats, and two goats.As the Fiction Writing Editor for BellaOnline, she writes articles, reviews fiction books, and interviews fiction authors. She is also an editor for Silver Tongue Press and Edit 1st. In her spare time, she attempts to clean house and relax. You can find her at https://www.facebook.com/pages/BellaOnline-Fiction-Writing/125143070846792., http://www.silvertonguepress.com/, and http://edit1st.com/.
Genre: Horror Short Story
Publisher: Silver Tongue Press
“Mom died in her sleep last night.” Those are terrifying words for a child to wake up to. The beetle that falls off the stretcher and stares at her is only the beginning one of the strangest and most frightening times in Lori’s life. Death is not a pretty thing, especially not when the funeral is to be at the Lights Out Chapel and Crematorium. Once she walks into the funeral parlor, she experiences things that no little girl should ever have to experience. No one is acting normal. No one can see what is going on. Is Lori the only one who sees the blood oozing from the pictures of Jesus on the cross? Doesn’t anyone else see the beetles? Is Lori hallucinating when she sees her mom sit up and hears her speak? There is absolutely nothing soft and tender about what happens to Lori. From her overly morbid piano teacher to the creepy preacher and a father that just isn’t acting like himself, Lori is surrounded by people and things that hint of something bizarre. Once she leaves the Lights Out Chapel and Crematorium, things will go back to normal. Or will they?
Excerpt 1:
“Lori, it’s your turn to say bye now. You need to tell her that you love her and how much you will miss her.” Daddy put me down next to her coffin and placed his hands on my shoulders. He pushed me so close to her death box that I felt the white satin that overlapped to the outside. It rubbed against my hands. At least it was soft for Mommy. She would be comfortable in there.
I decided to speak out loud this time. Maybe no one else would bring me back up here again if I spoke my goodbyes out loud. “Mommy,” I began, but then I started crying so hard I couldn’t speak. Daddy rubbed my shoulders until I quieted down and could begin again. “Mommy, I love you. I don’t want you to leave me. Please come back. No one, not even this Jesus, is worth leaving me over.” I opened my eyes and looked at her. She hadn’t moved since Mrs. Minuet had dragged me up here. But then her eyes opened, and she stared at me. She was staring at me! I sucked my breath in and felt my legs grow weak as my head began to spin. With one hand I grabbed on to the edge of the coffin, while with the other hand I grabbed hold of Daddy’s arm.
“Daddy! Daddy! Mommy’s not dead! She looked at me!” I screamed as I jumped up and down. “She was still alive when they took her out of the house. I saw her trying to get out from under the sheet.” I pulled on his arm and shook it. “Please, Daddy. You’ve got to save her.”
Daddy was beginning to sound a bit mad. He picked me up and held me over top of Mommy. “Maybe if you give her a goodbye kiss you’ll understand she’s dead, and believe me when I tell you she isn’t coming back.” I was so close to Mommy’s cheek that I could see the makeup was beginning to cake in her pores. There was no warmth rising up from her body, only icy coldness.
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