Action/Adventure
This week: Know Your Weapon Edited by: Leger~ More Newsletters By This Editor
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This week's Action / Adventure Guest Editor
Leger~
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Know Your Weapon
Authentic writing makes a story believable. When a reader doesn't have to stop and try to figure out what you're describing, the story becomes more genuine. Whether your character pulls out a pocket knife or a katana, know what your weapon can or can't do. This calls for a little research. While a pocket knife might do some damage, a katana could create a mortal wound.
The same goes for guns - would your character use a pistol or rifle? A silencer or a night scope? What caliber bullet does your character need to get the job done? If your story setting is in a distinctive era, be sure the weapon you choose has been invented for that time. A gunslinger in the Wild West wouldn't use night-vision goggles or heat-sensing equipment. Fur trappers and frontiersmen would use a smooth bore musket or a Hawkin or Deckard rifle.
Take a little time to do some research to add interest and depth to your story. You'll always learn more about your character than you thought you'd need. Write on!
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| | Ambushed (ASR) Western Fiction: A Texas Ranger Captain flees from Mescalero Apaches after being ambushed. #1192539 by Bluesman |
Excerpt: Standing in his stirrups, reigns in his teeth, the small framed half breed Indian and Texas Ranger Captain holstered two empty Colts and peered over the crest of a hill. His Lipan instinct told him not to top that hill. He wasn't concerned about taking care of himself in a fair fight, but at last count there were five angry Mescalero Apaches hot on his trail.
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Excerpt: Yellow-Leg's stomach rumbled, and he shivered in the morning cold. The women and children huddled around the dying embers of their fire. Soon the sun would rise and warm them. Nana still hadn't returned from his raid across Southern New Mexico and Arizona, and the food was gone. A week earlier, Yellow-Leg slaughtered their last mule, and children were already crying again in hunger.
| | Invalid Item This item number is not valid. #1670517 by Not Available. |
Excerpt: Standing outside the schoolhouse door, Carson Ranking grinned at the prim voice of the teacher, Miss Helen Hawkes, as she praised one of her charges. Leaning against the wall, he pulled out a cigar, absently fishing for the matches in his coat pocket before lighting one on his spurs. Smoke curling around him, he continued to listen as one student after another spelled their assigned words at Miss Hawkes' quiet urging.
Excerpt: Earl "Bruiser" Doherty was the last man ever hanged at the gallows in Summersville, Kansas. He was a nasty brute of a man, and no one was really sorry to see him hanged. Nearly the whole town had gathered in the square for the execution. The rest of the town was watching from their windows or storefronts.
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Excerpt: Emmett turned and faced the others, his gang. Darrell was the one that asked the question. Some called him Slow Guns, and rightfully so. It took him so long to bend his elbow with the arthritis built-up in it, that a baby could outdraw him.
Excerpt: All eyes at the table turned towards the mustached man who was sitting with his back against the wall. He was the quietest of them all. He'd been playing cards with them for hours, and none of them could recall him uttering more than two words together. And he seemed just fine with it.
Excerpt: God worked in mysteries ways, yep, that was what they said. Well, the Devil was a bit more direct. I loaded a bullet in Gracie, my revolver, gave it a quick spin (I don't need to spin it, but I liked to do it anyways, 'nuff said), and when I woke in the morning, the name of the next job was seared into the casing. This was how it had been for all time. Sure, the weapons change, but the game was always the same.
Excerpt: He rode into town not knowing who or why. The how, was a given. He, she or they would die at his hand.
Excerpt: A young soldier hung from a dead tree that was nestled in the shallow gully of two hills. His hands were bound tightly above his head to an over-hanging branch, and his legs were tied to the trunk. He was stripped to his long-johns, a dark-red stain marred the white fabric at his side where a broken arrow jutted from its center. Groaning softly from the pain of the wound, the captive dropped his head to his chest and the movement caused his bright, yellow hair to flutter in the warm, midday breeze.
Excerpt: When the little bell above the door tinkled as another person came in, I barely noticed. The intense heat was driving everyone mad and Tina's, the small café we sat in, was one of the only places in our small town that had air conditioning. I sat in the corner booth with my best friend, Jake. We just sat and talked while we slurped down our strawberry milkshakes, as was ritual for a hot summer day that Jake had a double break at the drug store. When I looked up at Jake as he was telling some story about the latest thing Mrs. Phelps had done, I noticed someone unfamiliar. It was the hat that caught my eye. He stood just over six feet tall; he had that classic handsome cowboy look about him, dark brown hair, high cheek bones, hat tipped down right over his brows.
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This month's question: Where do you do your research?
Last month's responses to "Action/Adventure Newsletter (May 26, 2010)" - Using Emotion
Starr* Rathburn responded: Just a note to let you know I really enjoyed your article on Using Emotion. It's something I try to do in my writing, but not always sure how well I succeed. Thanks for the info!
BIG BAD WOLF Feeling Thankful wrote: I really enjoy these newsletters. After all, between the good stories and meeting great authors, I can find what I'm looking for.
LJPC - the tortoise sent: Hi Leger! Your newsletter was excellent, with good points and advice. I Jaws! The shark didn't look fake to me, and I was terrified of going in the water during summer vacation. It's harder to terrify your reader with words, or make them laugh, but it's a worthwhile challenge. -- Laura
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