Thank you for the responses and ideas about how to fix the burgeoning Greenville Chapter meetings.

Here's how the votes stacked up:

• First:   Do nothing - summer will level things out. Re-address this issue if necessary in September.
• Second:   Limit readings to the first 10 people to sign up. Email notices are acceptable 48 hours in advance. Only paid members can read unless time is available.
• Third:   Create a completely separate Chapter - Greenville II with their own President and following. Crossovers would be discouraged.
• Fourth:   Form a morning/afternoon group meeting once a month. If you read at the early meeting, you cannot read at night.
• Fifth:   Find another venue with two separate rooms. The meeting could be split into two concurrent groups.

There were other suggestions but these five topped the list (and I'm not even going to address that "tar and feather the current President" remark, Bob.)

Think about these options and we'll toss it around at the next meeting. We have a great group of folks and I'm pleased to see the interest you have in keeping the Greenville Chapter the best in the state.

Thanks,
John Migacz
SCWW Greenville Chapter Pres.

The Greenville Chapter of SCWW is pleased to be sponsoring a free seminar by local author Mindy Friddle at the Greenville Public Library's Main Branch, 25 Heritage Green Place, on June 24th from 2-4 PM. Mindy's topic will be "The Road to Publishing: Avoiding Pitfalls and Taking the Right Fork."

Seating is limited. For reservations email migaczmarjon@prtcnet.com or call (864) 861-4494.

This year's Conference should be an outstanding event. We will be returning to Ocean Creek Resorts with more agents, editors and authors than ever before. The Saturday night banquet will feature three short plays performed by the Winthrop University's acting troupe.

With more critique sessions, workshops and a dazzling faculty, this is a conference not to be missed! For more information and a look at the distinguished lineup check out www.scwriters.com.

Bob Strother's novel Love Among the Greeks is now available for purchase. It can be ordered online from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Publish America. Written in three separate but related parts, the story unfolds in real time, flashback and a twisty, revealing back story.

Johnny Chase enters college in 1962, joins the Kappa Sigma fraternity, and replaces his high school girlfriend with sorority beauty, Randy Roberts. Together they burn through a torrid six-month love affair. Complicating matters are Kappa Sigma rush girl, Rivers Lloyd - Johnny's friend, social advisor and maybe something else - and his co-worker Millie, whose unusual mix of practical advice and hands-on therapy provide a much-needed distraction.

So, it is love, or just another Greek tragedy? Find out for yourself by following the sometimes amoral, but always romantic Johnny Chase on an odyssey of self-discovery through the hallowed halls of Greek society.

Remember Bob Strother's story about a man who discovers his girlfriend is a vampire? "New Blood" has been accepted by Maniac Press for publication in a horror anthology to be released later this year (no specific date at present) called Blood, Guts and Psychopaths.

In what was apparently Gold-Coin-With-Eagle night, Jim McFarlane continued his reimagining of his family's past in The Widow Dunn. Jim has gained confidence as a writer, and his style, while still true to the period he writes in, is less stilted, more natural than his earlier work. Laura Ann Dunn approaches her first night as Mrs. McFarlane with trepidation, and has to remind herself that "Laura Ann, you married a man. You did not sell your soul to the devil." This despite having been "lured by kind words, two cows, and the promise of security." Finally she is warmed by the image of Angus carrying his murdered friend's gold coin in his pocket for six years, then entrusting it to her, and she gives herself over to him in her silk nightgown. Speaking of which, the female reviewers couldn't picture Laura Ann wearing the nightgown she had worn on her wedding night with her first husband. Perhaps if she had been too shy to wear it that first time, it wouldn't carry so much emotional baggage now. Jim has done his research, both family and historical, and weaves them together with his own imagination in a tale that is as much fun for the reader as it obviously is for Jim.

In his short poem "Summer Solstice," Mike Forbes took us "through the moon-limned glade...in the sacred grove" with him and his love. The group responded well to this intelligent celebration of love.

Favorite lines included "with our breath we form the morning dew" and "the crescent moon laughs kindly at us." There was a concern that "two become one" might be too cliché. Someone complained that the word "beatific" was too harsh and maybe a little forced, but Mike maintained that beatific means "filled with joy," which was the meaning he wanted. Other suggestions were to try to stick with the same "long line, short line" meter throughout the work, and to change "the birds begin to sing" to something that tells us what kind of birds they are and uses a more descriptive word than "sing."

Mike said that when he wrote this poem, he felt like a newly-wed. He did a good job of bringing that feeling to us.

John Migacz shared an untitled alternate history story set in Gettysburg that illustrates the effect just one man can have on the course of history. On the first day of battle, Colonel Lawrence Chamberlain is critically wounded on Little Round Top, and instead of wheeling around the enemy and driving them from the hill, his replacement calls a retreat and surrenders the high ground to the Confederate forces. This advantage allows the Rebels to overwhelm the Union defenders at Gettysburg, and General Lee announces that next they will march unobstructed to Washington, only seventy miles to the southeast, and pay their respects to Mr. Lincoln.

The discussion of John's work centered mostly on the historical accuracy of some of the references. A few points were well-taken: "Cemetery Ridge" only earned its name after the battle, and the "Stars and Bars" would not have appeared at Gettysburg. Other points did not ring true: Hood may have been wounded, but he still would have found a way to salute, and Chamberlain's use of the word "ingenuous" in the story was based on his actual use of the word in his own writing.

Since time was short, there was virtually no discussion of John's craft, but he did come out of his critique armed with a name for his piece - "Any One Man."

Sarah Cureton treated us to another installment of an intelligent black woman's travails at Clemson. Her white boyfriend's roommate's Confederate flag certainly set the stage for some fireworks while inhibiting romantic ardor. As usual, Sarah threw in several excellent phrases, such as "leaving little fires in his wake" and "an undelivered ass-kicking due at this address."

While listening to Sarah read, I thought about the distinctive voices of our writers. Bob is soft and smooth, whether describing action in a Chevy's backseat or a drunken husband's tirade. As Susan rushes headlong, we wait for razor-sharp barbs from a feminine tongue. John narrates a 1950's noir mystery with cynicism. Sarah, like Kevin, is intense. That intensity may explain seven italicized words on page five. However, this last page suffered from a scarcity of dialogue attributes and beats, indicating a "telling" with italics instead of a "showing" of emotion with words.

The opening description included too many trivial details, such as matching bedspreads - which I never saw in male dorms-whereas only the "crucified" flag was important to the story. The second paragraph displayed my latest pet peeve: lack of sentence diversity. In these sentences, the first words were: Mark, I, Mark, I, He, His, and I.

Interspersed among the eye-catching phrases were too many references to eyes and looks. Describing sword-wielding ninjas is easy compared to describing meaningful action during dialogue. I hope Sarah solves this problem, so I can steal her technique.

In the meantime, I'm looking forward to vicariously experiencing the aforementioned ass-kicking.

It's been a while, but Steve Heckman brought Genghis back to the party. To be honest, I can't remember where we left off, so I was happy we started over at Chapter One. As always, Steve's prose is strong, making it difficult to find fault. But, of course, we, the Masters of the Picayune, were able to scrape together a few grumbles.

Because of the time span between Chapter one and Chapter two, it was virtually unanimous that Steve should provide the reader a smoother transition. Some of us got lost between the present and the thirteenth century. We discussed, but really didn't reach a consensus about, the historical step-out on page five regarding the coin's history. Personally, I thought it worked fine the way it was written.

One thing that did confuse me, however, was the last paragraph. It appears at first that this action is subsequent to Altan pilfering the gold coin and slipping it into the top of his shoe. It also apparently takes place in a different location-that of the garden spot where the laborers relieve themselves. But then General Gegen observes Altan palming the coin and slipping it into his shoe. Huh? Maybe if the General observed him slipping it out of his shoe and looking at it...but boy wouldn't that be a stupid thing to do?

Anyway, I'm a big fan of Steve's, and I'm glad he's back and brought Genghis along. I'll be looking forward to Chapter three.

Pam Gurule regaled us with another ticklish installment of Your Tiara is Waiting: a story set in the 1970s in the small Georgia town of "Wishful" that has a hotel for "uncrowned beauty queens." The excerpt was five double-spaced pages of 'tight' text - 10 pt Arial Narrow? - which is probably the equivalent of seven or eight pages of standard 12pt Times New Roman. Thus, the readings are longer, leaving less time and/or energy for editorial comment.

Realizing that this may be intentional, I'll keep my comments brief.

Between auditorium renovations funded by a penniless benefactor and including a two-story waterfall and the inbred 'White White' family, there are many chuckles along the way. Pam's excerpts are replete with amusing observations - and I love a cleverly turned phrase - but for some reason, I can't get into this story. The seemingly endless cast of characters, the unrelieved, zany antics, and quirky observations overwhelm me. Take this with a grain of salt, Pam. The problem may lie with the reviewer, not the writer!

The thing that kills me the most about not being able to attend the Greenville workshops on a regular basis is missing the continuing stories played out in the minds of folks like Kevin, Bob, and Jim. A previous review of Kevin Coyle's "The Saga of Snorri the Priest" said that is was like a Norse version of a soap opera. But on the fifth installment, which is the first I've heard and read, I would tend to disagree. I used to watch "The Young and Restless" on my lunch break in the day student lounge at Converse thirty years ago. Now I can watch an episode about once every six months and still catch up. There is no way Kevin's story of Snorri is like that.

I tried to read this out loud to myself, but with my slow, Southern drawl and those Icelandic names, it was a joke. My favorite name in this installment belongs to Thord Bellower, the snaggletoothed man who cupped his hand to his ear to hear Snorri's argument from the Judgment Circle better. Plus, I can pronounce it.

The tenth-century saga took up after the jury selection for Snorri's murder trial. Before the trial, Snorri had a dream about fighting giants which was a sign to him about what to say at the trial. Bob mentioned that he liked the imagery in this dream scene. But, I was disappointed that Kevin didn't have spirals of blood pin-wheeling from the slain giant's head as it sailed through the air to its mossy resting place. I'm just fond of broadswords clashing and blood spurting.

The dream must have been awful inspiring, as Snorri was able to get his adversary, Arnkel, good by making the condition that whatever sentence Arnkel handed down, he must also choose for himself since he is not without guilt in the whole mess. Arnkel chooses lesser outlawry, three years banishment.

It was suggested by one of the members the handshake at the end of the trial, to seal the deal, be more barbaric, befitting the times - like grasped forearms. I liked the flea imagery used twice in the piece. I get pictures in my mind similar to the characters of the barbarians in the Capital One commercials, scratch and picking at vermin.

Now I'm anxious find out where Snorri (and this saga) is headed. Alas, I think I will be on a camping trip during the next meeting. So I'll have to check out the June edition of "Printed Matters."

A sleek, seductive body, looks to die for, and curves that can cause a man's heart to skip a beat. Hey! Back off! I'm talking about a car here. Howard Lewis' 1965 Sunbeam Tiger is "My First Love," a story that brings back memories (or fantasies) of that hat trick in a man's early life - a woman, a convertible and the old "out of gas" excuse.

Howard's story takes us on a fast ride with the top down and a bra-shedding blonde. As the points in the Tiger's fuel pump sticks and the car drifts to a halt at the side of the road, the blonde's eyes narrow into seething slits. She is mistrustful of the engine's sudden death, and blames the driver. (Howard, I think you and Fatz dated the same girl.) A good whack with a wrench gets the car and the story once again rolling down the road of car stoppage memories.

The group found a few stuck points in Howard's semi-autobiographical story as well. The switch of the girl's name from Mindy to Mandy, the sudden transitions from stripping to cowering and from Mandy to Ginger were speed bumps for the table.

There were several great lines in the story - "With the legs and the bra, I was grinning so much my teeth were drying out and it took an effort to unstick my lips enough to talk," "She had...moist, wonderful lips. I was so busy watching her talk that I never heard a word she said, but I agreed enthusiastically." I'm sure those lines touched memories for every male at the table.

Fatz, who has his own car conundrum stories, can certainly relate to "My First Love" and will wait patiently on the side of the road for Howard's tow truck to arrive and finish the second half of the tale.

I am so glad Carol Isler returned to our meetings and shared another of her down-home folksy stories. This time it was "Shaved Today," a humorous essay on the dime-sized patch of white bristles now adorning the left side of her chin. (One of the joys of middle-age. I could write about several of those myself.)

The story is part of Carol's A Collection of Essays for my Daughters, and as such it works well. Ten different family members are either named or mentioned, which gives a nice connection to the intended readers. This might be improved by replacing "my youngest daughter" or "my brother" with actual names. Our group also suggested Carol stay with one reference to my daddy/my papa/Papa.

The group also recognized that Carol's essay had potential for competitions or publication, but it would take some additional work. It seemed to some members that two different essays were included in the piece - one about chin hair and one about the funeral. A suggestion was made to indulge in a little creative non-fiction and put Carol at the funeral. This might work to smooth the transition. Or, the section on the funeral could be condensed, allowing Carol to concentrate on the humorous element, middle-age female chin hair. It's not hard to imagine what tasty comments she could come up with this subject. Go for it, Carol.

Bob Strother's smooth, velvety, Southern voice can cause sugar to drip off of vinegar.

Thus it was easy to be lulled into a false impression as he read his short story, "The Discontented".

Reasonable to believe that we were hearing a story about two homeless men who were living in a shelter. Heck, I was feeling their pain.

The "RULES OF THE HOUSE" they had to endure! Such loss of dignity almost made me weep. But they were grateful for "a roof over your head and food in your belly".

As Sam admonished Max often, "Hey, buddy, you were eating out of a dumpster before you found this place."

So sad at their plight was I that I missed the first hint; "Max watched through slitted eyes."

Well, it could happen. They could have been Asian.

Anyway, Bob's writing skills shine as it dawns that Max and Sam are two cats.

This story, like Bob's other stories, was well written and smooth, always, smooth.

Whether this type of story is your glass of iced, mint tulip tea, or not, you have to admire the imagination that brought it to the page.

No wonder his stuff gets published.

In Bob Strother's book, Burning Time, baby Henry is now ten months old. Six-year-old Louise doesn't see much of her father, Will, these days and when she does he's either passed out or arguing with her mother, Fannie. One night after a particularly intense argument, Louise and Fannie are awakened by banging on the front door. Louise's father was in a fight at Rosie's Bar and his drinking buddies carried him home spread out on a door that had been broken in the fight. Fannie enlists her father-in-law William's help in getting Will's drunken, bruised body into the parlor. William tells Fannie, "He's a disappointment to me. And, I know he must be to you as well. I'm sorry for your sake...and the children's." He also tells her to come and get him anytime they need him.

Kevin Coyle once again mastered the pronunciations of his characters' names in "The Saga of Snorri the Priest." The story takes up right after Snorri and Arnkel Thorolfsson both agree to the charge of lesser outlawry, which requires their exile for three years. After Eirik the Red's experience, Snorri won't tell anyone where he is headed. Because of the way Snorri has always respected him, Thorbjorn, Son of Vifil, dissolves his bond to Arnkel and pledges loyalty to Snorri, asking to go away with him. We meet Thorodd the Tribute-Trader, who recently married Snorri's half-sister, Thurid Borksdottir. Thurid apparently became pregnant by another man, Bjorn the Breidavik-Champion, after the marriage. Thorodd begs Snorri to allow him and Thurid to come with him as well, in an attempt to get Thurid away from Bjorn for a while. Snorri says it would be comforting to have family along. And "when you load your ship with provisions, make sure you don't forget Jarl Sigurd's silver. We might have need of it."

Jim McFarlane's The Widow Dunn recommenced the morning after Laura Ann's marriage to Angus McFarlane. Laura Ann's youngest brother, Jesse, barges into their bedroom and drunkenly threatens to kill Angus, but then passes out and slides down the doorframe. Later, Laura Ann brings the packages of cloth given to her as a wedding present into her eighteen-year-old sister-in-law Margaret's room. Margaret has been wearing black mourning clothes since she was ten, and Laura Ann tells her, "It is a complete breach of etiquette and an insult to me and to my new husband for you to wear mourning clothes on the day after our wedding." Margaret is terrified of any change, but by the end of the section, she, Dora, and Laura Ann are opening the packages of cloth and designing their new dresses.

Aimee Caruso found herself "In Search of My Father's Masterpiece." Her one-page essay tells of how her father used to sing Bob Dylan's "When I Paint My Masterpiece." "What is a masterpiece but the one most important work we hope to accomplish before we die?" "Some unpainted masterpiece encircled [her father,] radiating just above the visible spectrum." Aimee concludes that "Like my father I have a masterpiece that sings to me, however off key. But maybe unlike him, I will be blessed with the luxury of time enough to listen, and ears sharp enough to hear."

Steve Heckman continued with his novel, Genghis. General Gegen notices Altan pocket a gold coin from the burial site, but lets it go since he is about to order the slaughter of every laborer there. Altan escapes death by hiding for three days in the thicket used as a privy. After the soldiers finish burying the dead and ride away, Altan walks up the slopes of the Burkhan Kaldun. The next morning, he is attacked by a golden brown eagle whose nest he accidentally approached. On the bird's third dive, Altan holds up his gold coin, which sports a spread-winged eagle, and the eagle veers sharply away and disappears. Meanwhile, General Gegen's two thousand troops approach the capitol city and are attacked by overwhelming numbers of Ogedai's heavily armed elite guards.

Phil Arnold closed the meeting with his Elvisblog, "Elvis in Canada - April 2, 1957." Phil describes a forty-nine-year-old news report in the Toronto Star covering two Elvis shows at Maple Leaf Gardens. One quote from the news report: "Whenever a youngster bounced up in his seat, a policeman would reach over and plunk him down again. This sometimes gave the Gardens the appearance of a large jack-in-the-box." Phil's final thought in the blog was that "something about the shows seems wrong. Here was Elvis at the height of his popularity,...and who did he have as supporting acts on the bill? Frankie Trent, a tap dancer, Pat Kelly, a blond singer,...Rex Marlow, a comic, and Jimmy James, a banjo player."

The next meetings of the Greenville Chapter of SCWW are as follows:

• Thursday, June 1 - First Thursday Meeting, 6:00 p.m. at The Open Book
• Tuesday, June 20 - Third Tuesday Meeting, 6:00 p.m. at The Open Book

All genres welcome at both meetings. Suggested limit for reading selections is five double-spaced, typed pages, although longer selections may be possible if time permits.

The Open Book, 110 S Pleasantburg Drive, Greenville, SC

Thanks again to Steve Heckman for Part 2.

Last month we talked about basic critiquing etiquette. For the next several chapters, I'd like to go over some basic technical points that wouldn't be the first three subjects in a typical creative writing course, but that come up a lot in critique. I don't mean such basics as spelling, grammar, or sentence structure. Most people who seek out a group like this are already competent writers, capable of basic editing, and we typically don't need to deal much with those sorts of things. And even rookies are usually already working on weeding out passive voice. But there are a few slightly more subtle points of style that we seem to deal with frequently; point of view, or POV, beats, and showing, not telling.

First, POV. The simplest way to describe point of view is to ask "whose head is the reader in?" Jack looked across the table at Fran. Any observer of the scene could make that statement, so it's a neutral POV. He found himself staring into the bluest eyes he had ever seen. Now we have entered Jack's consciousness. Nobody but Jack could know that he had never seen eyes so blue, so we are seeing the scene through his eyes, from his POV.

Fran looked away, fiddled with her cuticles. Something about the directness of Jack's stare reminded her of Uncle Mike, of things she would rather forget. So now what do we have, besides bad writing? It's called a universal or omniscient POV. It makes me dizzy. First we were in Jack's head, and now we are in Fran's. If Bob walks in, are we going to know that he thinks Jack is cute? This is not the same as neutral POV, where any observer could see what was happening. You're inside several people's heads, everybody's heads. I suppose that omniscient POV is a legitimate writing technique, but I don't like it, and neither do most of the veteran Greenville chapter members.

Having said that, I have to admit that some very successful writers use omniscient POV. Here's an example of the hazards they face. It's from Night Sins, a best-seller by Tami Hoag, who has a long list of best-sellers:

Mitch's response to her was elemental, instinctive. She was a challenge. He wanted to crack the tough-cookie facade. He wanted . . . and that surprised him. He hadn't wanted a woman since Allison. He had needed and he had succumbed to that, but he hadn't wanted. It amazed him to want now, to want her.

Printed Matters is the newsletter of the Greenville Chapter of South Carolina Writers Workshop.

Please forward critiques, comments, ideas, and submissions to Printed Matters Editor Marcia Migacz at marciamigacz@prtcnet.com.

Thanks to our contributing writers and news reporters:
Steve Heckman, Marcia Migacz, Jim McFarlane, Susan Boyer, Sarah Cureton, Carol Isler, John Migacz, Pam Gurule and Phil Arnold

Copyright 2006 by Marcia Migacz, Editor. Contributing writers retain all rights to their work.

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