USING GENEALOGY TO CREATE CHARACTERS - Part 1 By Guest Blogger Allie Marie

Hello, I’m Allie Marie and I’m new to the Sand in Our Shorts blog team. I look forward to adding my thoughts alongside other contributing members of Mystery by the Sea, my chapter of Sisters in Crime. I’d originally planned to write suspense and thrillers, but ancestry research led me toward a different kind of mystery than I’d intended. Most of my novels are historical mysteries with paranormal elements.

Before I begin, however, I have a few questions to ask. Do you write period pieces that require research for character development? Are you an avid genealogist wishing you could turn your family’s story into a book or a novel? Are you creating family sagas that cover generations of descendants but are not sure where to begin? 

I learned (the hard way) there’s an easier method to create fictional or historical characters and families than the way I started. Through a short series of blogs, I hope to offer some of the lessons I learned while writing my genre. 

Let me take you back to how it all started for me. From the age of 10, I was an avid reader of teen sleuth mysteries, with star detectives like Nancy Drew, Trixie Belden, the Hardy Boys, and more. It was then that I developed one of my two life dreams. The first was to become a flight attendant—but that’s a whole other life story to tell someday! The second was to become a mystery writer.

Over the years, I devoured more mysteries, graduating to the more famous literary like Sherlock Holmes, Miss Marple, and even a bit of Mickey Spillane and Sam Spade for a little while. Eventually, gothic mysteries with brooding family sagas heavily changed my reading preferences and future writing goals.

In spite of these early influences in my life, I never expected or planned to fight crime and solve mysteries as a real-life police officer myself. Oddly enough, it was my interest in aviation—that other life story I mentioned earlier—that guided me toward a career as a police officer. 

I served for more than twenty years in local law enforcement, and after retirement, participated in several international policing missions over the next fourteen years. Stories of my experiences and adventures literally filled notebooks and journals, promising to provide plenty of material for those suspense and crime novels I wanted to write.  

However, a different kind of investigation process took over my writing plans. I discovered colonial ancestors in my family tree. Not only did genealogy take me down the rabbit hole of family research, it also inspired the fictional characters of my True Colors Series. These historical mysteries include ghosts haunting the modern family, while flashbacks and time travelers take the reader back to the American Revolution—and forced me to create generations of families that impact each other and the entire storyline.

If only I’d known then what I know now! I might not have created a matriarch with a date of birth that would make her a thirteen-year-old mother when I added a new character to the mix. I would have had an easier time following my colonial family as they migrated from New England to Virginia. 

Through my next blogs, I hope to offer a series of posts that help a genealogist researcher who is considering writing their family’s history, whether as a fictionalized version of real life, a non-fiction book of family history, or a family memoir. This topic will also assist authors of historical fiction or period writing as well, to gather new ideas to reflect the past in a written format. Hope you’ll stay on the journey with me!

 

   

BEST WRITING ADVICE (PART FIVE) : OUTLINE IT ALREADY! by Penny Hutson

If you haven’t been able to finish your book by “pantsing” or what’s often called the discovery method, for God’s sake, outline it already!

I saved this topic for last because it was the single most important element that led to the completion of my first book length manuscript. I can’t overstate that. I spent decades trying unsuccessfully without one. Now, I even outline short stories and have two published in separate anthologies and two nonfiction pieces in a third anthology (links below). That can’t be a coincidence.

For an explanation of the difference between outlining (also call plotting,) and “pantsing,” read my article “To Plot or to Pants? That is the Question.” (click link below)

https://sandinourshorts.blogspot.com/2024/07/to-pants-or-to-plot-that-is-question.html

Benefits of Outlining

Outlining has amazing benefits, especially with longer works, but first, let’s recognize that outlining is also writing. It’s simply the writer telling the story only without the scene-by-scene details or specific conversations that make up each chapter. You’re still writing and creating sentences and paragraphs. Give up that it’s hard work, no fun, or limits your creativity. In fact, it can be more fun and freeing to outline because you know you’re only writing a short number of pages. It’s a lot easier to throw out or revise ten or twenty pages than 200 or more. It’s also easier to see major flaws in shorter pieces.

Many successful writers who’ve published books with and without outlines, profess that outlining dramatically reduced their amount of revision. Plus, if you know what’s going into each chapter ahead of time, you don’t have to write everything in order. You can write that juicy romance scene right now, if you’ve got ideas bubbling up for that.  

Once you have a viable story or the major points of each chapter written out in complete sentences (versus a general idea in your head), you can either start writing the book or add to the outline.

Ways to Expand Your Outline

After the initial five-to-ten-page outline of the entire book, some writers will then create a short (2-4 sentence) summary of each chapter with a list of its characters and the chapter’s purpose. Others go even further with one or two sentences about each scene or section within each chapter and it’s purpose. This may seem like a lot of extra or unnecessary work, but I promise it will pay off. It’s much easier to see any flaws in your storyline or book’s overall premise, but most writers admit it’s easier to create a scene or chapter when they know what’s supposed to happen or be discussed ahead of time.

Picking an Outlining Method

I used the Snowflake Outline Method and really liked it, but many other are available in books or online. Pick one and stick with it. Don’t fall into the trap of starting a new method every time you get stuck or think it’s not working for you. Keep going. If you haven’t completed a book without an outline, consider that any outline is better than none. There’s no one right method or only one that works for you. And, you can always try another method with the next book.

I hope you enjoyed the fifth and final installment in my Best Writing Advice series. If you have any comments, questions, or writing advice of your own, I’d love to hear from you.

My next blog (topic to be determined) will post here on “Sand in Our Shorts” March 28. See you then!

Penny Hutson also has two short mystery stories available in the following anthologies:

Costal Crimes 2 : Death Takes A Vacation 

Also available on Amazon and from Wildside Press 

Click here 

A Right Cozy Historical Crime (A Right Cozy Crime Series)

Available on Amazon in Kindle and paperback

Click here

 

HEADIN’ DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE – WHAT A BUNCH OF CRAPE By Michael Rigg

Lagerstroemia indica 
a/k/a crape myrtle

Even though fiction is all about using your imagination and making stuff up, writers still have to be accurate. Next time you write a novel or short story, have your protagonist hesitate long enough to release the safety on her Glock before shooting. You’ll hear about it from your readers. Believe you me, you’ll hear about it.

So, unless you’re already a subject-matter expert, in-depth research is an absolute must. This is true for even relatively unimportant and mundane details. But, be careful. Once you start down the research path on a particular issue, you might find yourself mired in “find-the-facts quicksand,” struggling to get back to writing.

My current work in progress, Shadows of Frenchmen, is set in New Orleans. One of the characters receives a text message asking her to come to a meeting at the New Orleans Museum of Art (NOMA). Here’s part of the lead-in to the meeting:

She inhaled deeply, then let her breath out slowly as she crossed the street, entered the museum grounds, and traveled along the sidewalk adjacent to Lelong Drive. Ahead stood the museum’s massive, fortress-like main building. In season, crepe myrtles lining each side of the drive showcased a beautiful, yet eerie, combination of green leaves, magenta blossoms, and silvery-gray Spanish moss dangling from the branches. On a chilly midwinter afternoon, the trees seemed bland, uninviting. And under the circumstances, foreboding. 

Nothing particularly worrisome. I’d visited NOMA. I rode the streetcar, exited at the end of the line near Bayou St. John, sauntered down Lelong Drive, and entered the museum. I took pictures of the trees lining the drive. Like I said, in-depth research. Quicksand avoided. Back on the “write” path.

 Ha.

One of my Beta Readers sent me a text with a link to a blog, “Crepe Myrtle or Crape Myrtle? The Real Story Behind the Name.”

Say what? CRAPE myrtle? My feet now mired in the fact-check bog, sinking ever so slowly, I dove down the rabbit hole.

Turns out that most “plant experts” (you know, botanists) say the proper English name for the Lagerstroemia indica is crape myrtle. Yet, there is a substantial portion of the reasonably intelligent populace (including folks at a garden nursery in suburban New Orleans and the people running the NOMA Facebook page) who say it’s CREPE. So, after repeated volleys listing this website and that article on both sides of the issue, what to do to get back on track?

Simple. Ask the ultimate Fact-Checker-in-Chief—my spouse. The answer? It’s CRAPE.

So now comes the next step. What will the Publisher say during the final editing process? Don’t worry. I’ve done the research. I have the source material. I’m ready for whatever crape they throw at me. Or is it whatever crepe they throw at me? Oh, crap.

PROMPTS TO INSPIRE YOU, PART FOUR, by Max Jason Peterson

Greetings, fellow creatives! I’m here with another installment of prompts to inspire you! I often provide prompt sessions in person at local conventions, for local writing groups, and online for Max’s Writers Café, which are free, library-sponsored live Zoom workshops for short prose and poetry. Hampton Public Library hosts these each spring and fall, open to ages 18+ (each session requires free Eventbrite registration; see the collection here for the upcoming workshops). But as readers of this blog, you can participate on your own schedule!

My wish for you is that you would come away from these prompts with the seeds for new short works of prose or poetry (or both). The combination of the prompt + a new work you haven’t thought about previously + a time limitation really seems to help kickstart creativity. These should be thought of as creative nuggets that you may wish to polish or continue with later. They won’t be perfect! And that’s fine.

How to do this: You’ll need some form of timer. Try to be strict with yourself about this—when you are, it really seems to boost your ability to dive into the prompt and come up with something unexpected.

Set your timer for ten minutes. Read through the prompt first, then start the timer. Write for ten minutes. Then stop! See what you came up with. It might indeed be something you want to continue working on right now before you lose your train of thought. If so, I suggest treating it as a new prompt session and giving yourself ten more minutes to finish getting your thoughts down.

Today’s prompts are all mystery-oriented.

1. Write a short scene from the point of view of a household pet who is witnessing or has witnessed a crime. The pet might belong to the victim, the sleuth, or the murderer. Does the pet try to help the victim or sleuth? Or act like an accomplice to the villain?

2. What if your murderer had superpowers? What if your sleuth could use magic? From any aspect of the paranormal, supernatural, or fantasy and science fiction spectrum, pick one power for each and write a short confrontational scene in which the sleuth saves someone, but the murderer gets away—for now. The characters don't necessarily have to wield their powers—there could be a standoff here. Or what if they did wield their powers, to humorous effect?

3. If you are writing a cozy mystery, plant your sleuth in the middle of a hardboiled detective story or noir novel. If you are writing hardboiled or noir, have your detective suddenly appear in the middle of a cozy world. You can play it straight by rewriting a scene you have in mind from this opposite perspective, as if that had been the tale all along. Or it could be quite funny, in a fish-out-of-water way.

4. Think about the characters in a mystery series you enjoy. There may be some special quirk or motif that recurs in a way that delights the reader, such as when Spenser recites poetry, Holmes deduces amazing things about a stranger, or Archie Goodwin drinks a glass of milk in preference to alcohol. Now think about your work in progress. Brainstorm some interesting quirks or motifs that might help to make it unique or cause the reader delight when they recognize them.

5. Inspired by Ray Bradbury’s Zen in the Art of Writing: This is a two-part exercise.

Part 1: 3 minutes. Make a list of things that scare you or that you find eerie, mysterious, or fascinating. Keep writing for three minutes—don't let your pen leave the page until the timer goes off.

Part 2: 10 minutes. Select one of the words on the list and just start writing about it. See what comes out!

If you’d like more prompts, here are some earlier installments in this series:

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

----------------------

Max Gardner (he/they) is a fiction writer & award-winning poet published under a variety of bylines, including Max Jason Peterson and Adele Gardner. A poetry collection, Halloween Hearts, is available from Jackanapes Press, while over 500 stories, poems, art, and articles appear in Analog, Clarkesworld, Strange Horizons, PodCastle, Daily Science Fiction, and more. Gardner serves as literary executor for father and mentor Delbert R. Gardner; Muse Mansion, a collection of poems by both father and firstborn, will be released soon by San Francisco Bay Press. 

Nervous About Your Year Ahead? by Judy Fowler

 

 

 

I was paying rent on a place no one would want to live in an area of the country with long, winding roads.

I’d found low-paid temp work with an entertainment agency.

I was training in a small group when the owner got a phone call.

 “What? She tap-danced over a dog and killed it? Okay, I’ll send somebody else right away.” He hung up the phone and looked at me. “Come over here,” he said.

I walked toward him.

“Do you tap dance?”

I couldn’t remember whether I had put it on my skill list when I applied for work.

He explained that a tap dancer had tripped and killed a small dog, and that he needed to replace the performer.

“I can tap dance, but not exactly like a dancer,” I said. “I practiced in my dorm room. I tapped out the routines to Bonnie Raitt singing ‘I Ain’t Blue.’”

“That’ll do, “the owner said.

 He said the gig had already started. I left, with scant time to digest his driving directions. I was wearing a red jumpsuit from the year I weighed my perfect weight.

He had said the gig was for Wounded Warriors.

In my red Volkswagen bug, I made my way “over hill and dale.” I arrived sweaty and distressingly late.

The venue was a rundown library. “Wounded Warriors” was posted on the door to one room, and I went inside.

One man waited in the room. He was the only person attending. Or who had stayed.  

Someone had written “Tap Dancing for Bulimia” on a blackboard. The tall man sat in his chair, and I began tap dancing. To make more of a performance out of it, I sang letters along to my taps: “B, U, L…”. I sweated, worried that when I got to “A,” I would not know what to do next, since I had no idea why I or anyone would be tap dancing for bulimia.

My audience of one waited for me to connect it all up, so I transitioned from dancing to conversation.   

I assumed he was a wounded warrior seeking information. I did what bad lecturers do: I fished for him to tell me about my subject.

“Are you bulimic?” I asked.

           “No.”

“Do you know what bulimia is?”

“No.”

“Okay, well, it’s throwing up after you eat. To avoid digesting calories.” Beneath the thin red fabric, my underarms were manufacturing a visible stain.

“Oh,” he said.

          Why on earth had this assignment fallen to an entertainment temp agency rather than a mental health professional?

“Obviously, I don’t have bulimia,” I said, and indicated my girth. How insensitive! To him, and to sufferers of bulimia. What did he care about my problems? Several times, I looked past him to the corner of the room where the walls joined as I hunted for a word to connect tap dancing and bulimia, with no luck.

After a minute or two, he left.

Back in my car, I realized the word I wanted was “control.”

“For control,” the man might have pondered. “Ah-ha.”   

And maybe he wouldn’t have left as wounded as when he arrived. He might have looked for a book on the subject before he left the library.

I got back to the agency before it closed. My employer, who was also my landlord, asked how it went. “No more animals were hurt?”

“No. There were no animals. You neglected to tell me why I was tap dancing for bulimia.”

He chomped on a cigar and closed his cash register.

“And for Wounded Warriors, yet,” I prompted.  

But he said nothing.

My jumpsuit was soaked with performance sweat. I sighed. “It would have been good if you had told me what outcome we were going for.”

He was writing in a ledger. Everything was about money for him.

But I was an entertainer. “And just one man in the audience. Maybe if I hadn’t been worried about arriving late—if I hadn’t had to tap dance—I might have thought of a way to link an eating disorder with PTSD,” I said.

 “Only one person?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Awkward.” 

That’s how much he cared. I walked out of his office and returned to the basement apartment with its cracked walls and its peeling paint.

Then I woke up.

It was 4:26 a.m. I’d been dreaming. I was in my townhouse in Virginia Beach, and it was the day of the annual Hampton Roads Writers’ Conference.

I made coffee. By the second cup, I saw how the dream covered every anxiety I had about attending the conference. I’d signed up to pitch a book to a real agent, my first pitch. I’d opened myself up with a contest entry about my Dad’s military service in WWII and its impact on the family. I had given up control of what people knew about my life. Was it too personal?

I felt unprepared. I feared the agent would stare me down during my two-minute pitch and leave before I could provide helpful information about my book. My only attempt at preparation was a diet I’d started after Labor Day. I’d gained fifteen pounds.  

The genius of the dream? It used my worst performance experience as its backdrop. Years ago, I drove a children’s theatre troupe to a school. We got there too late to perform because I’d gotten lost on a winding road in Vermont, in the days before cell phones. My cousin had recommended us to all his friends. 

As I drove to the conference, I recalled Dad telling me years ago to “tap dance”—i.e., make something up —when I didn’t know what to do next. 

The conference turned out better than the dream. “Dad’s” essay won first prize, and I “tap-danced” through the pitch for an agent who asked me to submit some pages.

On the awards video, I definitely looked fat. But happy.  

CHRISTMAS/HOLIDAY TRADITIONS: THEN AND NOW By Sheryl Jordan

Each year, as the Christmas season approaches, I find myself reflecting on the traditions of my childhood and how my family celebrates today. While some customs have changed, many cherished traditions continue to bring us together year after year.

Then

As a child, I would feel the excitement for Christmas begin the weekend after Thanksgiving, when our family would assemble and decorate the tree. For many years, we had a beautiful silver tree adorned with blue ornaments. The house—and our neighborhood—sparkled with festive lights and decorations. I loved visiting stores to admire the dazzling ornaments and twinkling lights on the most stunning trees I had ever seen.

The anticipation grew as I participated in school concerts and plays, which helped the days pass more quickly. I was always eager to see what Santa would bring for my family. Of course, my siblings and I received plenty of gifts from Mom and Dad—perhaps too many, some might say!

A few days before Christmas, the house filled with the delicious aromas of holiday cooking. Mom and Dad prepared greens, thawed the turkey, and diced vegetables for the dressing. The Christmas ham waited in the refrigerator, and sweet potato and egg custard pies baked in the oven, making my mouth water.

On Christmas morning, my siblings and I would wake up around four a.m., anxious to see if “Santa” had delivered our wishes. We waited for our parents to join us before opening any presents, savoring the moment together.

Later in the day, friends and family gathered for a festive meal. Our table overflowed with turkey, dressing, ham, macaroni and cheese, mustard greens, cornbread, chitterlings, green bean casserole, and pies. When Aunt Lottie visited, she brought her homemade apple-peach cobbler—a special treat. The day was always filled with laughter, delicious food, and memories that have lasted a lifetime.

As we grew older and started our own families, our children would open their gifts at midnight. Later, we’d visit my parents’ home to celebrate with extended family, followed by visits to cousins and in-laws.

When my husband joined the U.S. Navy, and we moved away from our families, we adapted our traditions. We decorated two weeks before Christmas, and our shopping usually happened the weekend before Christmas Day—sometimes last-minute, but we always found what we needed. On Christmas Eve, we attended church services, and the kids opened presents early Christmas morning. Our holiday meals remained much the same, though I began making Strawberry Pretzel Dessert instead of egg custard pies, and collard greens replaced mustard greens. Turkey eventually disappeared from our menu.

Now

Today, we put up our trees the day after Thanksgiving. The grandchildren take charge of decorating, while I offer guidance (or, as they say, supervise). The main floor tree is adorned with a gold-and-ivory garland and a delicate angel in an ivory dress trimmed with gold. I love gazing at the tree as its twinkling lights fill our living room. In the basement, the grandchildren have full creative freedom, decorating a tree with multicolored lights and a collection of ornaments made or gathered over the years.

We shop throughout the season, mostly online and at local small businesses. Gifts are wrapped as they’re purchased, so we’re not up all night on Christmas Eve—a welcome change from years past.

Throughout the season, I enjoy watching Christmas movies, especially “A Christmas Story” on Christmas Day, as well as all the NFL football games.

Our holiday dinner features the same beloved dishes each year, but now I have wonderful help in the kitchen. One granddaughter makes Strawberry Pretzel Dessert and Banana Pudding, with assistance from her younger sisters. My daughter prepares sweet potato casserole, collard greens, and dinner rolls. I’m in charge of macaroni and cheese and ham. We buy apple and sweet potato pies, since I’ve been told my sweet potato pies are delicious, but not quite like my dad’s!

A new tradition we’ve added is sharing a scripture related to the meaning of Christmas during dinner, with each person explaining why it’s meaningful to them.

Whether you celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, or another special holiday, I encourage you to reflect: How have your traditions changed or stayed the same over the years? The heart of the season is found in the memories we create and the love we share.

The Lonely Hearts Killer by Teresa Inge

As the saying goes, “if it’s too good to be true,” it probably is. The story of Harry F. Powers, the “Lonely Hearts Killer,” is a stark reminder of this caution.

During the 1930s—long before online dating apps—America was gripped by the chilling crimes of Powers, who used “lonely hearts” newspaper ads to lure victims, weaving false promises of wealth and affection to win their trust.

Born in the Netherlands, Powers immigrated to the U.S. and settled in Quiet Dell, West Virginia. Using charm and persuasive letters, he convinced women to travel long distances, believing they’d found love and security during the Great Depression—only for their hopes to end in tragedy.

Among his victims were Asta Eicher, a widowed mother from Illinois, and her three children. Powers corresponded with Eicher, convincing her of his affection and financial stability. Trusting his promises, Eicher traveled with her children to meet him, hoping for a new beginning. Tragically, their journey ended in a soundproof chamber beneath his garage, where he robbed and murdered them.  
Another victim, Dorothy Lemke from Massachusetts, responded to Powers’ ad seeking marriage. After exchanging letters, she traveled to West Virginia, believing she was meeting her future husband. Like Eicher, Lemke was imprisoned and killed, her fate sealed by Powers’ calculated cruelty.

The disappearances of these women and children sparked an investigation in 1932. Police traced their last known contacts to Powers, eventually discovering his property and the soundproof chamber where the crimes occurred. The case shocked the nation, exposing the dangers of personal ads and the vulnerability of those seeking love in desperate times.

Powers’ trial became a media sensation, drawing crowds and headlines suggesting he’d killed over fifty women across the country. He was convicted and executed in 1932. The tragedy of his victims led to greater scrutiny of personal ads and in popular culture of how trust can be manipulated for sinister purposes.  

THE WRITER'S TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS By: Kimberly R. Thorn

 

The Writer’s Twelve Days of Christmas

By: Kimberly R. Thorn

On the first day of Christmas my novel manuscript gave to me one sore neck.

On the second day of Christmas my novel manuscript gave to me two cramped hands.

On the third day of Christmas my novel manuscript gave to me three hours sleep.

On the fourth day of Christmas my novel manuscript gave to me four migraines.

On the fifth day of Christmas my novel manuscript gave to me five panic attacks.

On the sixth day of Christmas my novel manuscript gave to me six hours ‘researching.’

On the seventh day of Christmas my novel manuscript gave to me seven hours of dreaming.

On the eighth day of Christmas my novel manuscript gave to me eight characters not cooperating.

On the ninth day of Christmas my novel manuscript gave to me nine possible plots.

On the tenth day of Christmas my novel manuscript gave to me ten grammar errors.

On the eleventh day of Christmas my novel manuscript gave to me eleven scenes to re-write.

On the twelfth day of Christmas my novel manuscript gave to me twelve rejection letters.

We here at Sand in Our Shorts wish you and yours a very Merry Christmas, a Happy Hanukkah and a Happy Kwanzaa!

WHICH CHRISTMAS VILLAIN DO YOU LOVE TO HATE? by Yvonne Saxon

The holiday season has officially started. Are you in your ugly sweater or your snowman pj’s yet? Have you donned your “Merry Everything” tank top and beach shorts? Why not? Depending on your hemisphere, go put them on and grab a hot cuppa or icy smoothie and plop down on the couch to pick your favorite Christmas villain.

Writers of Christmas stories and films have been creating bad guys to ruin the holidays for their characters (and us) for a long, long time now. Which “naughty list” character bothers you the most?

GOLDEN ERA OF THE AMERICAN CAR by Ellen Butler

In keeping with the 1950s, for my Ariadne Winter mysteries, today I’m talking about my favorite car era. As a car enthusiast, I did my due diligence when it came to researching vehicles of the decade. While a fan of automobiles from the 20s and 30s, my favorite era has become the 50s. 

The 1950s were a golden era of American automobiles—a decade when chrome gleamed, tailfins soared, and cars weren’t just transportation but rolling expressions of art. Postwar prosperity collided with a culture hungry for style, convenience, and futuristic fantasy, and the result was one of the most iconic periods in automotive history.

Styling That Turned Heads

Design in the 1950s leaned hard into spectacle. Automakers wanted cars that inspired awe the moment they hit the street. Sweeping tailfins—made famous by Cadillac—became the decade’s signature flair. They were bold, aerodynamic-looking (whether or not they truly were), and symbolized progress, speed, and the Jet Age. Two-tone paint schemes, wraparound windshields, chrome bumpers, and interiors that mixed comfort with drama all defined the decade.

Cars like the Chevrolet Bel Air, Ford Fairlane, and Chrysler 300 didn’t just transport families—they made a statement. The look said: America is moving forward, and we’re going in style.

Why all the flash? Because the 1950s were a time of soaring national confidence. The war was over, suburbs were growing, and technology—from jet engines to home appliances—felt miraculous. Designers took cues from rockets, airplanes, and science-fiction dreams.

Automobiles became tied to identity and aspiration. Owning a stylish car wasn’t just owning a machine—it was owning a piece of the American Dream. The country believed in bigger, better, and newer. Automotive design mirrored that optimism with sweeping curves and sparkling chrome.

Price Tags and Accessibility

While some of the most visually dazzling models carried premium price tags, the 1950s also saw a push to make cars widely accessible. A new Chevrolet or Ford might run between $1,500 and $2,500 depending on the model and options—numbers that sound small today but represented an attainable goal for the growing middle class. Luxury brands like Cadillac, Packard, and Lincoln landed in the $3,000–$5,000 range, offering prestige to those who could afford it.

Automakers cleverly marketed optional add-ons—whitewall tires, power steering, radios, and automatic transmissions—turning cars into customizable personal statements. Buyers could start modestly and add flair as their wallet allowed.

The Major American Motor Companies

The “Big Three”—General Motors, Ford, and Chrysler—dominated the 1950s automotive landscape.

• General Motors was the powerhouse, with brands like Chevrolet, Pontiac, Oldsmobile, Buick, and Cadillac. GM’s design chief Harley Earl practically invented the look of the decade, championing tailfins, chrome, and concept cars.
• Ford Motor Company kept pace with vehicles like the Thunderbird and the ever-popular Ford sedan lines. Ford’s focus on affordability and reliability made it a family favorite.
• Chrysler emphasized engineering excellence, featuring powerful engines and sleek “Forward Look” styling from designer Virgil Exner.

Smaller companies—Studebaker, Packard, Nash, and Hudson—added personality and creativity but struggled to survive against the giants.

The cars of the 1950s remain timeless icons. They weren’t just machines; they were symbols of optimism, style, and ambitious imagination. Even today, a glimpse of a finned beauty cruising down the road feels like a trip back to an era when America believed the future had no limits—and designed its cars accordingly.

MIRACLE OF MIRACLES By Jeff Tanner, Guest Blogger

Thunkin Theodore - photo finish

Miracle of miracles, I was scheduled to teach a two-day workshop in San Antonio when I learned my horse, Thunkin Theodore, was running in the 4^th race at Retama Park in Selma, Texas, just outside San Antonio. What a great opportunity! I invited the entire workshop to come out for the race – and a photo in the winner’s circle if we won.

We decided to name him for our oldest son, Ted, and honor Ted’s namesake, my baseball-playing uncle. Hence the name “Thumping Theodore,” also Ted Williams’ nickname. My uncle wasn’t the caliber of Ted Williams, only rising to A ball in the minors. But the Jockey Club couldn’t read my writing on the application so Theo’s official name was Thunkin Theodore.

When he was born, we didn’t know what kind of horse we had. Was he hard-working or lazy? Smart or dumb? Our hearts soared with hope when he raced other foals and yearlings in the pasture, always running through to the end even when he wasn’t first. The road from a race around the fence line to the winner’s circle at the track, though, is long and arduous.

We still weren’t sure about him after his first two races. We first tried him on turf—his sister won twice on the grass. But our big strapping bay tiptoed all the way around the track. That’s not how you win. So this time, we were trying him on the dirt. And this time, the competition was steeper than any he’d faced.

Still, despite the fluttering in my stomach, I’d only promised the workshop’s participants a night’s entertainment, not a victory. The odds-makers agreed, with Theo not among the favorites.

About eight of the participants took me up on my offer, clustering around me, the trainer, and the jockey in the paddock before the race. Tommy Morgan, my trainer, was a laconic West Texan, not prone to talking. The jockey, however, enjoyed chatting up the young blonde in our group.

When the horses broke from the gate, Theo was right there, in fourth a little off the pace, just as Tommy instructed. That way, there’d be juice in the tank at the end.

The horses turned for home with Theo in second. At the 8^th pole, a furlong before the end of the race, he was in first, with a horse coming up on his left and another to his right. Each of the other horses surged forward, both on the inside--between Theo and the rail. Theo responded, running even harder.

He was determined.

You can’t train that into a horse. It’s part of who they are. That’s what separates the winners from trail ponies and yard art.

Theo was so determined that he sprained a ligament just after he crossed the finish line, though we didn’t know it at the time. Our little group posed in the winner’s circle with a triumphant Theo and his smiling jockey. Even Tommy had a small grin, apparently entertained as he watched the jockey talk more with the blonde.

As Tommy said, “It helps when the jockey has a little extra motivation.”

Later, I took the group back to the stables. Theo was enjoying an after-race snack of fresh grass alongside the fence. Another horse was being led by.

Theo saw him, raised up, and trumpeted loudly. “I won! I am the King!”

The other horse lowered his head and slunk past.

Theo’s ligament healed up nicely and he came back to race--and win--again. Over his career, Theo ran in twelve races, posting two wins and two second places. When his racing days were over, he became a jumper, continuing to compete, continuing to give it his all. But that first win – that was special.

Miracle of miracles. 

BEST WRITING ADVICE (PART FOUR) : MURDER YOUR DARLINGS by Penny Hutson

“Murder your darlings,” is a term coined by Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch in the early 1900s. In 2020 Roy Peter Clark titled his book, Murder Your Darlings: And Other Gentle Writing Advice from Aristotle to Zinsser. Others have used the phrase or some version of it in the years between.

In short, it means to cut out any unnecessary writing. In practice it’s revision on steroids.

The concept skyrockets beyond deleting filler words, unnecessary adjectives, and unclear lines. To “murder your darlings” means to mercilessly slash those gorgeously written passages and clever lines you love when they don’t support the main idea, further the story, add to a character’s development, or aid the readers’ understanding. In other words, if it's not serving a specific purpose, cut it out. 

When you do that, something magical happens. A shiny pebble emerges from the rubble, like an ancient gold coin beneath the archaeologist’s brush. Eventually, an entire chest of doubloons is unearthed; hidden until all the dirt and rocks are removed. Like an archaeologist, a writer must eliminate everything that isn’t a necessary part of the main message or story.

When you cut away the excess, your message becomes clearer, focused, and powerful because it’s not mixed in a cloud of extraneous stuff that doesn’t support the overall message or story. Every detail, explanation, dialogue, or description will add to or detract from your piece. There’s nothing in-between - no neutral words, so to speak. If you want to show a character’s cheerful but naïve personality, for example, don’t crowd the page with actions or speech that doesn’t explicitly demonstrate that or appears to contradict it.

All this talk of cutting may leave one with the misunderstanding that shorter is always better or that the goal is to be brief. Nothing could be further from the truth. In one of the most used and iconic books on writing, The Elements of Style, Strunk and White tell us that it is not necessary to “make all sentences short or avoid all detail . . .” but it requires “that every word tell.” That’s the key. Every word must count, and the book’s slim 85 pages illustrate that point.

Thomas Jefferson took this concept a step further to say, “The most valuable of all talents is that of never using two words when one will do.” He’s referring to the gluttony of speech, while demonstrating the economy of words within his own quote.

Often, however, less is truly more. In his book, On Writing, Stephen King shows the reader a passage from one of his novels in which he describes a restaurant/bar using only four details, but it’s enough. He admits he had tons of other details he excluded, writing that, “It will not behoove me (or you) to wander off into thickets of descriptions just because it would be easy to do.” In his opinion, “. . .it’s not about the setting, anyway – it’s about the story.” A perfect example of someone murdering their darlings in service of the story.

But let’s be honest, it’s hard to delete something you’ve spent hours agonizing over – especially when it’s good. I have many perfect comebacks, dazzling descriptions, and clever lines that didn’t further the plot or add to my story. The best and hardest thing I’ve done is to cut them out during the revision process. Truthfully, the more I do it, the easier it becomes; though it’s never easy. I promise it will take your writing to the next level.

So, pick up the sword of revision with gusto and determination to slay the writing that impedes your work as Luke Skywalker clutched his light saber to destroy the dark forces in his world. Good luck, my friends; and may the force be with you.

If you liked “Part Four” in my “Best Writing Advice” series, you may want to read or reread Parts One, Two, or Three. See the links below.

__________________

The Almighty B-I-T-CH https://sandinourshorts.blogspot.com/2025/08/best-writing-advice-part-three-almighty.html

Don’t Look Back! https://sandinourshorts.blogspot.com/2025/06/best-writing-advice-part-two-dont-look.html

The Three Rs – Read, Read, Read https://sandinourshorts.blogspot.com/2025/04/best-writing-advice-part-one-remember.html

Penny Hutson also has a short story in a new anthology Costal Crimes 2 : Death Takes A Vacation available at https://wildsidepress.com/coastal-crimes-2-death-takes-a-holiday-paper/  from Wildside Press

ROBERT W. SERVICE: THE MAN WHO DIDN'T FIT IN by Michael Rigg

Robert W. Service (1874 - 1958)

“Gold!” One of the few words to spark bouts of mass hysteria—group insanity some might argue. And so it was just before the turn of the twentieth century. Discovery of gold near the Klondike River in Canada’s Yukon Territory in August 1896 unleashed a three-year epidemic known as the Yukon Gold Rush.

In total, “gold fever” infected over 100,000 people. They came from every corner of the continent, intent on reaching Dawson City, epicenter of the mining effort, where they hoped to find their personal end-of-the-rainbow. Of those starting the journey, only thirty or forty percent (approximately 30,000 to 40,000) made it to Dawson City, turned away along the route by a combination of expense, hardship, and death. Only about half of those who made it to the gold fields became prospectors. Only a few hundred became rich.

But this mass hysteria produced some unplanned riches—a bonanza of novels and verse describing the rush, the challenges, the victories, and the defeats. Among the authors tapping into this rich vein of success and heartache were Jack London (The Call of the Wild and White Fang), Tappan Adney (The Klondike Stampede), and my favorite, Robert W. Service.

Born on January 14, 1874 in Lancashire, England, Service spent his formative years in Scotland. He grew up reading the works of Rudyard Kipling and Robert Louis Stevenson and briefly studied literature at the University of Glasgow. In 1894, Service went to western Canada, where he worked in a variety of jobs, including as a cowboy and later as a bank teller, first in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory and in 1908—well after the Klondike Gold Rush had run its course—in Dawson City.

While the fever was gone, the memories remained. And Service drilled into the reminiscences of former miners and others, extracting material that formed the basis for the works earning him a reputation as “Bard of the Yukon.”

Service published numerous collections of poetry during his lifetime, including Songs of a Sourdough or Spell of the Yukon and Other Verses (1907), Ballad of a Cheechako (1909), and Ballads of a Bohemian (1921), as well as two autobiographies and six novels. He was a correspondent for the Toronto Star during the Balkan Wars of 1912-13, and served in World War I as an ambulance driver in France. After the war, he married Germaine Bougeoin and they resided mainly in the south of France until his death on September 11, 1958. Several of his novels were made into films, and he also appeared as an actor in The Spoilers, a 1942 film with Marlene Dietrich.

Were I to ask you to name some of his poems, you’d likely respond with “The Shooting of Dan McGrew,” “The Spell of the Yukon,” or “The Cremation of Sam McGee.” All excellent tales, indeed.

But my favorite is “The Men That Don’t Fit In.” It highlights a group of men (and women) captured by wanderlust and the need for adventure. And it serves as a reminder that, often, “It’s the steady, quiet, plodding ones” who survive life's struggles:

The Men That Don't Fit In

There's a race of men that don't fit in,

A race that can't stay still;

So they break the hearts of kith and kin,

And they roam the world at will.

They range the field and they rove the flood,

And they climb the mountain's crest;

Theirs is the curse of the gypsy blood,

And they don't know how to rest.

 

If they just went straight, they might go far;

They are strong and brave and true;

But they're always tired of the things that are,

And they want the strange and new.

They say: "Could I find my proper groove,

What a deep mark I would make!"

So they chop and change, and each fresh move

Is only a fresh mistake.

 

And each forgets, as he strips and runs

With a brilliant, fitful pace,

It's the steady, quiet, plodding ones

Who win in the lifelong race.

And each forgets that his youth has fled,

Forgets that his prime is past,

Till he stands one day, with a hope that's dead,

In the glare of the truth at last.

 

He has failed, he has failed; he has missed his chance;

He has just done things by half.

Life's been a jolly good joke on him,

And now is the time to laugh.

Ha, ha! He is one of the Legion Lost;

He was never meant to win;

He's a rolling stone, and it's bred in the bone;

He's a man who won't fit in.

Haunting, don’t you think? 

To learn more about Robert Service and the Klondike Gold Rush, check out: Robert W. Service | The Poetry Foundation and What Was the Klondike Gold Rush? - Klondike Gold Rush National Historical Park (U.S. National Park Service).