mikojohnston

2025 – A YEAR IN REVIEW

by Miko Johnston

The end of December. A good time to review what’s transpired throughout the year, including all the information and revelations that came from our WInRs in 2025.

WInRs may be women of a certain age, but we keep up with the times, as evidenced by several posts – including Jill’s – on AI. I expect this subject will be revisited as the technology progresses … or perhaps takes over?

When Gayle posted Characters: Real and Imagined, I could relate to her reflections on using famous people in our writing. As the author of a historical fiction series, I had to include actual people to balance the historical with the fiction. Her tips on incorporating the famous with the fictitious will help all writers.

Maggie’s Get Those Details Right! also struck a chord with me. I’d had to research locations in Prague during Covid, which meant canceling my planned in-person trip. I learned the limits of Google Maps firsthand when certain information I got from it turned out wrong. Fortunately, other ways to research locations exist (see this post).

Being an author means you never have to retire, a point made by Linda’s post, Retirement? Even if we stop writing for publication, we can continue to pen (or type) notes, keep a diary or journal, or log our family history for future generations.

Jackie’s piece on Mystery Books to TV Series inspired me in a reverse way. I selected a few series I’d enjoyed watching and bought the books, one of which I’m reading now.

Readers of this blog know I love to travel and often do, another reason I always enjoy the journey I take whenever I read one of Rosemary’s posts. London’s World of Words and Stories not only brought me back to a city I hadn’t been to in many years but reminded me how much travel has inspired and informed me about life outside my bubble, not only as a writer but as a human being.

Possibly the most controversial post this past year came from me. In A Contrarian View of Cozies I explained why I won’t read the sub-genre. Some of the responses softened my opinion. A little. Interestingly, when I wrote about cliches in mysteries in an earlier post, I never expected life to imitate art. After the recent jewel heist at the Louvre, a photo of policemen standing guard at the facility included a very dapper man, which raised questions as to who he was:

Photo by Thibault Camus/AP

According to one pundit*: “Never gonna crack it with a detective who wears an actual fedora unironically. To solve it, we need an unshaven, overweight, washed-out detective who’s in the middle of a divorce. A functioning alcoholic who the rest of the department hates.” I couldn’t have said it better myself. Turns out he had nothing to do with the investigation, but it proved my point.

Our purpose at The Writers in Residence is to entertain, inform, and encourage our readers. If you follow this blog, or recently found it, have we achieved our goal? Did any posts help or influence you as a writer?

*Melissa Chen, a tech executive based in London, wrote this in an X post that has been viewed more than five million times.

Miko Johnston, a founding member of The Writers in Residence, is the author of the historical fiction series, “A Petal in the Wind”, as well as a contributor to several anthologies, including the recently released “Whidbey Island: An Insider’s Guide”. Miko lives in Washington (the big one) with her rocket scientist husband. Contact her at mikojohnstonauthor@gmail.com

FOR THE LOVE OF (OUR) WORDS

by Miko Johnston

Whenever I read books on my Kindle, I find sentences, paragraphs, and dialogue highlighted by readers, in some cases by a multitude of readers. Lines that speak a certain truth to them, that are beautiful to read, or capture an emotion that hovers near the surface of our consciousness. Lines that express what many of us feel or know to be true, but we can’t articulate because we can’t say it as well, or at all.

Every time I write something, whether it’s a post for this blog, a correspondence, or an entire novel, I always have a line or two that makes me proud. Something I feel not only encapsulates what I want to say, but does so in a way that goes above and beyond what I normally write. Genius may be too strong (not to mention immodest), but the words raise the bar from good to superb, in my opinion. They capture a small moment in life, a bit of character. They illustrate what I mean to express in a unique, visual, and impactful way. At least, in my eyes.

Alas, I rarely hear others who’ve read the words and phrases I most prize and commended them. Don’t they get it? Or am I wrong? It frustrates me sometimes.

I always want readers to enjoy my work, page by page, cover to cover, but I also want them to savor what I consider to be extra-tasty bits. I can point to at least one example, and often more, in each of my novels, but I’ve yet to see them mentioned in reviews, or highlighted, figuratively or literally, throughout the pages. Even when I’ve repeated some examples of these lines and dialogue from an earlier Petal In The Wind novel, using them as flashbacks in a later book. Even when I’ve used a few examples in my posts on this blog to illustrate a point.

Okay, sometimes my writers group members have praised a particular line, but we always have to say something complementary. It might be like wine tasting – after sampling them all, the one you like best may not be great, just better than the rest.

Am I alone in thinking this? Do you ever wonder if readers have the same reaction to the lines you prize most as you? If they remember the passages you believe particularly memorable, repeat the lines you consider most quotable? Does it matter to you?

Miko Johnston, a founding member of The Writers in Residence, is the author of the historical fiction series, “A Petal in the Wind”, as well as a contributor to several anthologies including the about-t0-be-released “Whidbey Island: An Insider’s Guide”. Miko lives in Washington (the big one) with her rocket scientist husband. Contact her at mikojohnstonauthor@gmail.com

HOW TO GROW A STORY

by Miko Johnston

I wish I could take credit for the title of this post, but the idea came from one of my favorite books on writing, How To Grow A Novel by Sol Stein. So instead, I’ll focus on what I’ve learned from the parallels between gardening and writing.

Know your regional growing zone

Trying to create a desert garden in the Pacific Northwest makes no sense. If you aim to sell what you write, be sure you have, or can create, an audience for it, otherwise write for your own pleasure.

Plant your seeds at the right time

In gardening, as in writing, timing can be everything. When I began working on my Petal in the Wind series in the early 2000s, I found little information about WWI’s eastern front (in English). That changed when the 100^th anniversary of that war approached. We’re a year away from significant anniversaries: our nation’s 250^th, the 25^th of 9/11, and (looking at you, Mad) the 100^th of Route 66, any of which should stimulate interest in books inspired by these events.

Know when to use seeds and when to use starts

With my local climate, anything slow-growing, like bushes, tomatoes or delicate herbs, takes too long to grow from seed, so I buy them as starts. Ideas also can be seeds, which require a lot of development, or “starts”, inspired by an existing story. If you like the thrill of seeing a workable idea break through the soil of your imagination, then go with seeds. Otherwise, get a head start with a pre-sprouted concept.

Plant them in the right place

Some plants need protection from the late afternoon sun while others thrive in hot, sunny conditions. Planting the latter in a place that provides some shade for the former benefits both. In writing, that’s called rhythm, which keeps the scenes flowing at a good pace, with moments of intensity/drama relieved by moments of relief/humor.

Nurture your seedlings, then toughen them up

In early March I plant some vegetable seeds indoors and set them on a south-facing windowsill to sprout. By the end of April, I’ll gradually acclimate them outside once the threat of frost has passed. If they don’t die, they go into the garden. I figure if they struggle a bit to survive, they’ll taste better. Do the same with characters; create them and then challenge them. It gives them, well, character.

Sacrifice the weak for the strongest

Thinning out your seedlings allows the remaining plants ample room to thrive, and lessens the competition for water and nourishment. Overloading your story with too many characters or too much (or a too convoluted) plot will starve out the best parts of your manuscript.

Know when to harvest

Whether flowers, fruits or vegetables, some need to be picked at their peak of ripeness, some slightly earlier and left to ripen on your kitchen counter. Leave a plant too long and it bolts or rots. Then all you can hope for is to collect seeds for next year.

A story must be tended and nurtured until it’s “ripe” for picking. Sometimes that means tackling a second draft while it’s fresh in your mind, other times it’s better to let a finished manuscript sit on the shelf awhile. Just don’t let it linger too long, but if you do, take a seed from it and start again.

Like planting a garden, a great pleasure of writing is growing your seedling into a full-fledged idea, nurturing it and watching it take form until it’s complete. The food we grow feeds our bodies, while the stories we grow feeds minds. But stories have one advantage over garden products.

My writers group used to sell our books at the local farmer’s market. We’d always remind shoppers that unlike the berries, tomatoes and lettuces they’d purchased, our products wouldn’t rot if left in a hot car awhile (insert laughter here).

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Miko Johnston, a founding member of The Writers in Residence, is the author of the historical fiction series, “A Petal in the Wind”. Her fifth and final book in the series is about to be published. She’s also a contributor to several anthologies, including the bestselling “Whidbey Island: An Insider’s Guide”. Miko lives in Washington (the big one) with her rocket scientist husband. Contact her at mikojohnstonauthor@gmail.com

ANOTHER TOOL IN THE WRITER’S TOOLBOX

by Miko Johnston

In the course of a story, a character learns that someone important to him has just been killed. His reaction? We can easily imagine shock, grief, sadness, disbelief. A look of confusion as he tries to absorb the news, his face twisted in pain, tears flowing freely from his eyes. We can even picture him so overwhelmed by what’s happened he collapses. But what if his reaction is no reaction? Complete silence, his face devoid of expression. A cop-out? Or a way to rouse our interest as we wonder what’s going through his mind?

I often say writers have many tools in their toolbox to use, and I’ve written several posts about them over the years. Today, I’m focusing on one valuable tool that often gets overlooked – negative space writing.

By this, I don’t mean being critical. The term negative space refers to various techniques. In art, it’s the empty space around or between the primary subject or the background. In writing, using a white space to indicate the passage of time within a book chapter or story is a prime example. We utilize negative space to break up a lengthy section of dialogue with bits of physical action by the speaker (instead of “he said”) or to relieve long stretches of exposition with some dialogue or internal thoughts.

Negative space might focus on something unexpected in a scene, leaving the reader to wonder whether it’s direction or misdirection. It can be contrasting two opposites, like a calm character in a chaotic setting, or the other way around, the surprising reaction piquing our curiosity. It can be using subtext in dialogue, which leaves the reader thinking about what’s really going on beneath the surface.

A common method is to leave gaps or omissions – small but unimportant details out of a story, which allows the reader to fill in the rest. This can be as simple as allowing the reader to assume that if a phone rings, the character will answer it with “Hello”, or they’ll get up from their chair, walk to the door and turn the knob to open it when someone knocks. Negative space can also mean describing a person to a degree, but not down to the thickness of her hair, its precise shade of brown, or how many clips she’s used to pin it up if it’s not essential to the story. This creates a synergy between reader and writer, allowing the reader to participate in the story. It also keeps the pace moving.

Description is, to an extent, a matter of taste. Some prefer a brief sketch, just enough to get a sense of it, and then let the story move forward. Others like more details so they can fully picture what’s being described, down to the smells and tactile sensations. Leaving some negative space means you’re as conscious about what you leave out as what you put in. You never want to omit anything important to the story or limit the sensory details that make scenes come alive. Here, negative space gives some breathing room so the reader doesn’t feel overwhelmed with everything everywhere, all at once.

Another technique implies, rather than describes, an action, emotion or a setting. A classic example of this is by writing about the absence of something rather than what’s present. In my first novel, I wanted the reader to not only see, but feel the destruction of my character’s village. In addition to describing the wreckage, I also included what was missing – any signs of life…

…No birds chattered, no horses whinnied, no chickens screeched, no men shouted for their wives, no women screamed for their children, no babies cried for their mothers….

The positive space describing the destruction evokes sensory images – the wreckage and plumes of smoke, the smell of burning wood, which we can see. The negative space evokes a different response, one we feel. One provides visuals, the other, emotions. It creates a more complete picture. It also gives the appropriate weight to this important scene, one that will affect my character for her entire life, over the course of five novels.

Here’s another example of positive space vs negative space writing. Imagine a protagonist sitting down for a drink at a café or bar, when a huge explosion happens nearby. Positive space writing would show the scene post-explosion; the wreckage, the body count, the survivors, both injured and stunned. It would include the character’s reaction, physically and mentally. We learn immediately if she was seriously hurt, bloodied, dazed, or temporarily deafened. We’re there watching as she bolts from the scene, or runs toward the explosion to help.

With negative space writing, the character might act uncharacteristically; perhaps she remains seated to finish her drink, with the reader wondering why. Or you might cut to another scene, either one created in her unconscious mind, or set elsewhere with other characters who learn of the explosion, leaving the reader to ponder what happened before returning back to explore the aftermath. This would build interest, as the reader not only has to figure out what caused the explosion, but what happened to the protagonist. Or, you might skip ahead with a white space and leave it to the reader to figure out how many deaths and injuries resulted in the explosion, how scared she felt, or how she got away – if we eventually figure out what we need to know about what happened in that scene.

To use negative space writing successfully, you must do it deliberately and with purpose. You never want to leave out anything important to the story, or neglect to make your characters recognizable, your scenes intriguing, and your plot believable. The omissions and subtext must be apparent, as well as their meaning. When done properly, it engages the reader, playing to their curiosity, encouraging their involvement with the plot and attachment to the characters. It’s what we as writers want to accomplish, which makes negative space a useful tool in the writer’s toolbox.

Have you incorporated negative space writing in your work? If so, how do you use it?

Miko Johnston, a founding member of The Writers in Residence, is the author of the historical fiction series, “A Petal in the Wind”, and currently minutes away from completing the fifth and final book of the saga (whew!) She’s a contributor to several anthologies including the recently released “Whidbey Island: An Insider’s Guide”. Miko lives in Washington (the big one) with her rocket scientist husband. Contact her at mikojohnstonauthor@gmail.com

A Contrarian View of Cozies

by Miko Johnston

A diva actress infuriates everyone with her demands. A rich businessman takes pride, even joy, out of snookering his customers. A domineering tycoon sets ultimatums for his relatives lest they be cut out of the will. They’re spoiled, stingy, slick, or just plain mean, and the next thing you know, they’ve been murdered. News spreads, often through a small town filled with quirky folks, and soon a person with no experience in criminology (beyond, perhaps, reading or writing mystery novels, or selling them in their charming bookshop) takes an interest in the murder and decides to investigate. They may not have access to the minutiae of crime scene investigations or forensic reports, but thanks to a police force with little skill or interest in solving the mystery, they unmask the perpetrator.

Welcome to the world of cozy mysteries, where life can be pleasant, eccentric, and even humorous in the face of death. Where someone’s humdrum existence can be invigorated by a murder.

A sub-genre of cozies takes crime more seriously, dealing with social issues such as addiction, abuse, homelessness, and trafficking, however peripherally. Others feature amateur sleuths who partner with the real investigators – police detectives – sometimes literally; many have spouses on the force.

Bearing those exceptions in mind, please don’t hate me for what I’m about to say – I do not, and will not, read cozy mysteries that involve murder, for one simple reason: the punishment rarely fits the crime.

People kill or get killed for a variety of reasons. Some killings are justified, as in self-defense or on the battlefield. And don’t confuse the broader legal term, homicide, with murder, as the former includes the accidental and the justifiable killing of another. The law defines murder as a deliberate act, targeting a person with the “intent to kill,” “cause grievous bodily harm,” or “a depraved indifference to human life”. This does not sound very “cozy” to me. Nor does killing someone simply because they’re not nice, or did something mean-spirited or even ruinous (short of murder) sound justifiable.

Some cozy murders occur “off the page”. I’ll grant the more grisly details of murder can be the exception to the “show, don’t tell” rule, but even so a murder has been committed. I’ve also heard cozy murders described as bloodless, or even “painless”, but is there such a thing? Any police officer who’s been to a crime scene, or EMT who tried unsuccessfully to save the victim, will tell you NO. Most poisons cause pain, convulsions and organ collapse. And what about other methods, such as strangulation, drowning and suffocation? I feel miserable when I’m congested with a cold. I can’t accept being deprived of oxygen as anything less than cruel and unusual. Even if the crime is violent, such as a gunshot, the description sidesteps the gory details. Really? Please tell me how a gunshot wound wouldn’t be gruesome to an average person. And don’t get me started on humorous murder mysteries. I’ve seen farces that involve a dead body where the death occurred from natural causes, or an accident due to the victim’s stupidity, silly but harmless. However, a murder victim’s body crosses the line for me.

I have two other reasons for not reading cozies. I lived in New York during the crime-riddled seventies. I knew two people who had dear ones murdered. A co-worker’s boyfriend was shot to death in a case of mistaken identity, and a gang of robbers murdered my friend’s nineteen-year-old cousin as he was unloading a delivery truck. Fifty years may have passed, but I still recall the anguish in their faces, the tremble in their voices when they told me what happened. They never witnessed the crime in progress, nor saw the bloody crime scene, but from the moment the police notified them, their lives changed. Forever.

I get it. A mystery can be enjoyable without forensic-level descriptions of crime scenes, as is trying to put the clues together and solve the puzzle. Of course, if that’s what readers want, then there’s no reason to include murder, rape or kidnapping – a non-violent crime would allow the reader to solve the case along with the sleuth. Why does it have to be murder? Apparently, having a cozy revolve around a high crime raises the stakes, and the level of interest, beyond lesser crimes. Making the victim as unsympathetic as possible makes us feel less guilty as we focus on the clues and not on the tragedy.

This is just my opinion, and I don’t expect others to share it. Yet I can’t help but think no matter how horrible, difficult or mean the victim is, and even if the characters in your story aren’t upset by the murder, somewhere in the world beyond your pages is someone who will care, who’ll mourn the loss and be devastated by the cruelty of it.

Miko Johnston, a founding member of The Writers in Residence, is the author of the historical fiction series, “A Petal in the Wind”, as well as a contributor to several anthologies including the recently released “Whidbey Island: An Insider’s Guide”. Miko lives in Washington (the big one) with her rocket scientist husband. Contact her at mikojohnstonauthor@gmail.com

THE WEIGHT OF WORDS

by Miko Johnston

Words have become a frequent topic for my posts. I often say they’re a primary tool in the writer’s toolbox, and like all tools they need to be kept sharp as well as up-to-date.

When I read, I’ll occasionally come across a word I don’t know or might be unsure of its meaning, whether in English or another language. Whether plots or articles, writing that includes corporations or government agencies and bureaus often use acronyms, and thanks to texting, so does modern fiction. We all know FBI, CEO, LOL. If the mystery is set in the fictional Gotham City, we can figure out what GCPD stands for. When the unfamiliar term is foreign, an acronym or other modern slang I’ll search for it online. I don’t mind doing this, as I enjoy learning new words, terms and expressions to expand my vocabulary, even if I never use them.

I used to keep my dictionary and thesaurus handy when I write. Now, I prefer to look up words online when I’m not sure of the proper meaning, or if they’ve changed over time. I google “(language) to English” if I need a translation, or the reverse if I need the word or phrase in another language. If I’m uncertain if a word I want to use is best or if another would be clearer, I check the thesaurus. I often understand the meaning better from similar examples than dictionary descriptions. If the synonyms don’t relate to what I want to express I delete the word and find another. You could say the dictionary “tells” me the meaning while the thesaurus “shows” it.

My thesaurus also comes in handy when I need a substitute for an overused word, or if I can’t think of the right one to use. However, it’s old and doesn’t reflect modern speech. If I want the language to be au courant, I google the word, or the idea I want to express, and add synonym. The results help me decide whether to stick with my original word, choose a better one from the list, or pick a different word that more closely expresses what I want to say.

I also search for the etymology of words, phrases and expressions. As a writer of historical fiction, I must know when they came into usage to avoid anachronisms. The reverse is true as well. A word or phrase that brings authenticity to a period in history would sound ridiculous spoken out of time – who says 23 skidoo, groovy, or gag me with a spoon anymore? Then, I consider who will use the word. For example, I wouldn’t have a fusty old person use hipster (for the time) jargon, or vice versa.

Sometimes I must use an obscure word. When it’s foreign or an historical reference, I often describe it in the sentence following its usage. Sometimes the meaning can be gleaned by context, such as when my characters lit a yahrzeit candle to commemorate a loved one’s death. However, some terms can’t be explained without a dictionary-like entry – for example, plastron, which I used in my first novel, set in 1899. I expect most readers had to look that word up to find it meant “an ornamental front of a woman’s bodice or shirt consisting of colorful material with lace or embroidery, fashionable in the late 19^th century”. Hardly something that could evolve naturally in dialogue. Certain genres, such as historical fiction and hard sci-fi, as well as unique careers and hobbies of the characters, give the writer some leeway for the occasional obscure term. So does a post on a writer’s blog.

Even so, I sometimes question the use of vocabulary that may be unfamiliar to the average reader, like etymology or anachronisms. I don’t want to oversimplify the subject, nor do I want to write over the reader’s head. I wonder – should I find another way to express myself? Is there a better way that won’t send readers rushing for their dictionary? Or is that necessarily a bad thing?

Some believe using more complex terminology – what we used to call “hundred dollar words” – makes them sound smart, while others find it pompous and pretentious. A wise person can explain complex ideas in complex terms, but a wiser person can do the same using plain language. I wouldn’t consider that “dumbing down.” I’d call it making the information more accessible to more people. Even so, the best word may be foreign to some, including me. As a reader, I will look up a word I don’t know or am unsure of its meaning in the context of what’s on the page. If I have to do that once or twice, I will, but too many unfamiliar words put me off.

Some writers must use foreign words, terminology, slang, or acronyms related to the time period, profession, or avocations of their characters. How do you handle challenging vocabulary as a writer and as a reader?

Miko Johnston, a founding member of The Writers in Residence, is the author of the historical fiction series “A Petal in the Wind” as well as a contributor to several anthologies, including the about-t0-be-released “Whidbey Island: An Insider’s Guide”. Miko lives in Washington (the big one) with her rocket scientist husband. Contact her at mikojohnstonauthor@gmail.com

ANOTHER YEAR IN REVIEW

by Miko Johnston

As we enter 2025, the end of the first quarter of this century, I want to look back to the past year and share with our readers some of the great writing, advice and tips I’ve found on this blog.

Posts by Rosemary always have such an intimacy to them I feel like I’m reading her diary. She always brings her life and inner thoughts to everything she writes in an articulate and enlightening way. Even so, I found Let Go and Live… particularly poignant. I truly hope she takes her words and turns them into actions.

Jill’s musing on verbal laziness in “She is going, you know, to…” reminded me of how often we hear that when we speak with people. It clarifies the reason why dialog must sound natural but without all the unnecessary filler often used in real world conversations. Imagine reading a book filled with verbal speed bumps. Boring.

One of the best books on writing is The Writer’s Journey by Christopher Vogler, in which he synthesizes narrative patterns of literature from the academic research of Joseph Campbell. Jackie’s piece, Seven Story Plots, edited those patterns into helpful, easy to remember summaries.

Linda’s piece on Choosing a Theme reminded me of how important it is to carry through something meaningful to you, whether you love it or hate it, in all your writing. It can bring in like-minded readers who’ll cheer or jeer along with your characters.

Libraries are a gift to the world, as Maggie’s post, September is Library Card Sign-Up Month! illustrated so well. At one time in my life I could boast I had four library cards to different systems in two states.

I’ve long said Gayle’s posts are like mini lessons in writing, but I found even more in Acting Class 101. I’ve known Gayle for many years, but I learned more about her life in this piece. She exemplifies a writer who pushes herself to improve, and continually does, as well as shares what she’s learned with others.

Oh, the places you’ll go as a writer. That never rang truer than when I read How I Found Myself Working as a Writer in Residence of a High-Security Male Prison by guest blogger Jane Corey. A fascinating experience, only topped by her own story arc of how the job changed her in multiple ways.

Guest blogger Renee Le Verrier discussed awareness in body as it connects to our writing in What’s the Point of Resistance?, illustrating all of her points with her own words. A good reminder to not only consider that connection, but to get out of the chair occasionally and stretch!

Lastly, I submitting my post, Exercising Your Vocabulary, which detailed my use of word games to keep my verbal skills active during and after Covid lockdown. It ended with the challenge to come up with as many words as you could that began with the letters BR— (I came up with 202).

If the piece seemed incomplete, it was – only half of it went live. So here is the rest:

To mix it up, I added more challenges. How many words could I list that end with S but are not plural – double points for any that end in a single S. I also revived a childhood school game. I’d take a long word, like PRESIDENTIAL, and see how many words I could make with the letters, but without using the letters more than once. Back then I allowed three-letter words. Now I restrict it to at least four letters and no pluralizing.

Why should this matter to you? The pandemic may be over, but many of us, particularly those of us of a certain age, may need extra stimulation of the brain to keep it fully functional. Also, many folks live alone and if they work from home, they’ve lost the camaraderie of the office. Even without lockdown, I don’t get out and around people as much as I used to, and frankly, my conversation skills aren’t as sharp as they once were. Sometimes the only complex words I use when talking with friends are medical terms, as we seem to spend a great deal of time discussing our health. My husband and I have taken three international trips this year, which has forced us to communicate in more than one language. Normally a break in one’s routine can make for a good topic of conversation, but only if you can discuss it in a way to make it interesting.

Storytelling skills rely in part on vocabulary, knowing the right word to use in a situation, as well as how to compose those words into interesting dialogue or background. The same holds true for conversation. Sharpening my skills will not only improve my ability to communicate with others verbally, but also what gets on the page.

I had an opportunity to use my revived skills at my granddaughter’s baby shower last August. I wrote a love letter to her and her husband, which I dubbed “A Sweet Mad-Libs Proclamation”. I substituted blank spaces for several words and inserted a number in their place. Each number referred to a sweet treat. Here’s a sample:

We eagerly await the birth of your –1– Florence.

We have –2– doubts you will be great parents,

because you’re blessed with common sense and love.

#1 was a Baby (Ruth) bar; #2 was a Zero candy bar. The proclamation ended with Love and –7– – I bet you guessed it: a bag of Kisses. (P.S. Florence made her appearance two weeks early, on September 4; happy, healthy and perfect!)

I’m finishing the final novel in my series, so having easy access to the vocabulary I’d built over a lifetime will strengthen the prose. During the holiday season, I send out cards with notes to family and friends, near and far. I’ve also entered the time in my life when sadly, I frequently have to write notes of support for serious illness and letters of condolence. However, many joyous occasions still happen, such as the birth of my great-granddaughter and a forthcoming marriage in the family. All of this will be more readily accomplished, now that my vocabulary is out of lockdown.

How are you keeping your communication skills active?

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Miko Johnston, a founding member of The Writers in Residence, is the author of the historical fiction series, “A Petal in the Wind”, as well as a contributor to several anthologies including the about-t0-be-released “Whidbey Island: An Insider’s Guide”. Miko lives in Washington (the big one) with her rocket scientist husband. Contact her at mikojohnstonauthor@gmail.com

What’s The Point of Resistance?

by Guest Blogger, Renee Le Verrier, E-RYT*

When the writing gets tough, the tough stay in the chair.

When the writing gets tough, I slide off the chair onto a yoga mat.

I begin a class with a short reading once everyone gets settled on their mats. On one particular morning, Greta, an eighty-something with a sunny smile who never missed a session, cleared her throat.

She leaned closer to me. “May I ask you something?”

I nodded.

“If you could define yoga in one word, what would it be?”

I didn’t hesitate.

“Awareness,” I said

Greta sat upright and seemed to be considering my response. “That could apply to nearly everything, that awareness thing,” she said.

That’s the day I went home and unrolled a mat beside my writing desk. So closely related, I wanted to practice each near the other.

Yoga, in a longer definition, is more a meditation in motion than it is bending into poses. Similarly, writing is more than the number of words on a page on any given day. The craft moves characters forward or back, into twists in a kind of motion of imaginative meditation. When my mind is with me, not off planning what’s for dinner, present with my pose or in a scene, both my yoga and my writing deepen.

The word yoga derives from Sanskrit meaning ‘linking together’—as in yoking—the mind and body. Awareness connects the two. When I take notice, the continuous chatter in my brain—that’s busy, busy making mental remember-to lists—fades. What’s opened up makes room to be attentive.

In writing, I focus on how and where the words affect me physically. If my typing resembles an air drum solo, I’m on a roll. If I’m in the middle of crafting a fight between two characters I’m breathing easy and my toes aren’t curled, something is off. It might not tell me what is awry but I’m aware I need to edit.

If I can’t connect with my body, I pause and take a detour to my face to take inventory there. Are my jaws clenched? Lips squeezed tight like a zipper? Eyebrows furled?

Toggling from body to expression has revealed an assortment of secrets. In yoga, I may believe that I’m relaxed while my cheeks and lips form a frowny face. In writing, I’ve been delighted with myself for a stellar phrase, yet the computer screen reflecting back at me is unsmiling. These scowls indicate dissatisfaction and point me to a needed revision.

Awareness isn’t skin deep, recognizing only pain or pleasure. In yoga, my mind is reading my body and reporting back, yes. But stretching only to the first sense of pushback doesn’t allow much room for lengthening or release. I instruct the class to go as far into the pose that they get to the point of ooh, ow, ow. But don’t stay there. Know where that point is, then ease back to where the stretch first meets resistance, to just ooh.. From there, try to coax the line of opposition into backing away.

In writing, we reach points of resistance in our plotlines, our narrators, our characters—fictional or non. The story arc banks on opposition—without it, there’d be no conflict, no resolution, no growth. I look for the far edge of that resistance. It may be too intense, unbearable, so I take it back to the point where it feels right. Just like when I’m on the mat.

Greta was right about that awareness thing.

* An E-RYT (Experienced Registered Yoga Teacher) has documented over 2,000 teaching hours and attended at least 500 hours of training as a student.

BIO for Renee Le Verrier

Renee Le Verrier enjoys being surrounded by books, painting supplies, dog toys and yoga. The author of Yoga for Movement Disorders and Travels with Tommy (featuring a very special Great Dane), she has been awarded Best in Show in local juried art shows but mostly fills up the walls in her office. She has been teaching and presenting on yoga throughout the US and UK for eighteen years. She writes from an island off the coast of Washington where she lives with her husband and another Great Dane. She’s currently working on a YA novel, which also means she’s practicing yoga regularly. Visit her at http://www.leverrier.com

EXERCISING YOUR VOCABULARY

by Miko Johnston

When I think back to the dark days of the Covid pandemic, I don’t focus on the panic or the shortages. I remember the isolation. Although I had the good fortune of my husband at home and kinship through technology, I found conversations very limited. I began contacting people in my life whom I rarely saw but stayed in touch with, usually with a Christmas card, but many of my friends from the past were mired in their own woes or didn’t respond. Worse, despite having ample time to finish my novel in progress the distress kept me from writing anything…for eighteen months.

I still recall an evening at least six months into the lockdown. My husband, exhausted from yard work, went to be early. His older son called that night. In the past, I’d speak to him briefly before passing the phone to his father, but neither of us wanted to wake him. As I spoke to my stepson I began to realize how much I craved company, even if only over the phone, so what would have normally been a five-minute call stretched into over an hour. I think he, too, longed to talk, and for the same reason.

Our conversation was stilted at first, but not because of any personal reason. He and I were merely out of practice. We’d pause to think of the right word or string more than a few words together in a sentence. It took about five minutes to verbally limber up before we could chat ‘normally.’

That served as a wake-up call. From that day on, I began playing word games. It kept me entertained and, more importantly, prodded me to keep my vocabulary alive and active. Anything that forced me to plumb my memory for words (and spelling). I know many writers use writing prompts, but I wasn’t yearning to write better as much as speak better. I needed something deeper than that.

I began with Spelling Bee, a New York Times creation that gives you a ring of six letters with a seventh letter in the middle. You form words, four letters or more, that must include the center letter. I even got my husband hooked on the game; we still play it almost daily and compare our lists. Later, I added Wordle to my daily routine. You get six chances to find the five-letter word of the day – if you’re not familiar with it, you can read the instructions on the NYT website.

In both cases, trying to figure out the words stimulated my brain. Sometimes, words would pop into my head, even if they didn’t fit the puzzle. That’s when I decided I needed more stimulation and started inventing my own puzzles.

Wordle inspired a new way to challenge myself. I’d pick the first two letters of potential words and list as many as I could. I’d start with my “prompt” letters and work my way through the alphabet with the goal of reaching at least fifty words. As with my conversation with my stepson and my daily dose of word games, the more I challenged myself, the more words I could recall, and the faster they came to me.

Here’s an example:

HOW MANY WORDS CAN YOU MAKE THAT BEGIN WITH THE LETTERS:

BR——-

RULES:

Words must be at least five letters
No adding prefixes like S; ED; ING; LY; NESS to a root word of four or less letters
Only one version of the same word is allowed (ex: float OR floated OR floating)
Homographs are allowed with variations in the spelling to reflect their different meanings

(ex: score [to make shallow cuts]; score [to earn a point] becomes scoreboard)

No abbreviations
No foreign words unless they’re in common English usage (ex: pasta; rondo; bidet; pashmina)
No proper nouns
No acronyms (ex: AWOL)
No hyphenated words or contractions

GOOD LUCK!

A TRIBUTE TO WORDS AND WRITING

By Miko Johnston

My late father co-founded a non-profit organization dedicated to Scandinavian philately. In addition to translating and publishing educational books on the subject, the group held monthly meetings as well as annual exhibitions where members could present their best work. Dad served as their president for many years; his name and phone number appeared on all contact sources.

He wasn’t home the day a young man called for more information about the organization. I offered to answer as much as I could. His first question: “Can you join if you’re under eighteen?” Yes, I told him, there is no age limit. “Can I bring another guy to the meetings?” Sure, I said, but something told me he had something, um, different in mind. I then said, “You do realize that philately is stamp collecting.”

“Oh.” He promptly hung up.

We spend a great deal of time writing about words on this blog. If you hunt through our archives, you’ll find many posts on the topic, which should come as no surprise. Words are the most important tool in a writer’s toolbox. We think about them, which one to use in any situation, whether a particular word or one of its cousins (aka synonyms) would be more precise, more distinctive. Can we convert that verb/adverb pairing into one verb? How many descriptives can we edit out without losing the image, the rhythm, or the voice of a character?

Words convey and put into context images, thoughts and ideas, especially when they’re carefully selected. We have non-verbal ways of communicating as well, but unless there’s some established pattern to it, such as sign language or Morse code, their subtlety makes them less effective for interpretation – is she slouching because she’s humiliated, or her back hurts?

Whether spoken or written, signed or signaled, we rely on words as the basis of communication. Misinterpretations may cause embarrassment, as my earlier story shows, but in the right hands they surprise in an entertaining way. Writers can inform the reader without the character’s knowledge, a technique I relied upon in my first novel, when my protagonist was a child. Or they can make the reader wait – ideally with keen anticipation – for information the character already knows.

We can use words to assure clarity of thought, or to deliberately deceive. Red herrings in mysteries fall into the latter category, as do ambiguous phrases meant to mislead the reader into thinking something the author intends to prove wrong later. I’ve done this so often in my writing it might be a hallmark of my style.

Words have the power to calm and reassure, to encourage and inspire, or to agitate and inflame. Think of all the influential speeches you’ve heard or read, or the memorable phrases culled from them. Whether by actors reading from a script, politicians addressing their constituents, or activists crusading for their cause, their words, carefully chosen with deliberation, hold the power to move people. To bolster their spirits, or shock them. Convince them they’re right, or maybe, just maybe, they’re not.

All have one thing in common: Someone, or some ones, wrote those words.

Not to equate a frothy page-turner with The Gettysburg Address, but I celebrate writers who celebrate the written word. I commiserate with writers who agonize over the best way to express their or their characters’, thoughts. I respect writers for what they try to accomplish whenever they put pen to paper or fingers on the keyboard.

That’s why we deserve a formal representation for what we do.

The practice of medicine has a symbol – a caduceus with two snakes coiled around it. The symbol of law is the scales of justice. No formal symbol of writing exists, although if you Google it you’ll find cartoons of a hand holding a pencil or pen.

What do you think would make an apt symbol for writers?

Miko Johnston, a founding member of The Writers in Residence, is the author of the historical fiction series, “A Petal in the Wind”, as well as a contributor to several anthologies including the recently released “Whidbey Island: An Insider’s Guide”. Miko lives in Washington (the big one) with her rocket scientist husband. Contact her at mikojohnstonauthor@gmail.com