Avoiding Plagiarism

I was joking about the concept of Chekhov’s gun the other day, with the example of a cat that showed up early in the action and then turns around to save the day. That, in a phrase, is Chekhov’s cat.

Looking up Chekhov’s cat, I discovered that someone had gotten to the joke before me, a writer on Tumblr named The Bibliomancer, on a blog by the same name (The Bibliomancer, 2023, Nov. 10). They define Chekhov’s cat as when a cat appears in the story, it will play an important role later.

It’s important that we credit the original thought of others with citations, such as what I’ve done above. I use American Psychological Association citation style here in addition to a linkback to the original site. Blogs generally use the linkback, but I want to make sure the originator gets the full credit, so I use academic citation style. The full citation will be at the bottom of this page.

I have been the victim of plagiarism. Once, I gave a colleague an assignment of mine as a guideline for structuring her own homework in a class; she published it as her own without giving me any credit. I still seethe over it, twenty-eight years later, because she stole an idea from me by not crediting me.

I think we on the Internet need to credit the sources we use to make our content. That way, maybe people will cite us.

The Bibliomancer (2023, Nov. 10). Chekhov’s Cat. Available on Tumblr: https://thebibliomancer.tumblr.com/post/733615519135039489. [August 28, 2024].

Role Stress

There are many types of stress we experience in life. I want to talk about a type of stress I suspect many writers with day jobs (i.e. so many of us!) have, and that is role strain.

Role strain is when the duties of one role conflict with the duties of another. For example, if the requirements of being a writer conflict with those of the regular job. I’m feeling this right now; I want to have a topic to write on, but I’m absorbed with the work duties and there’s no room in my brain for creative writing at the moment.

Both roles are important to me; the work role has higher priority, however, because that’s how I feed my family. Right now, the work role is especially pressing because it’s the beginning of the semester and I need to start the semester strong, which for me means focus.

I’ve scheduled some time today for the other role after my second class today. I can postpone class work for Tuesday when I have a long block of time to do it. This is what’s going to alleviate my work stress: scheduling time for both and minimizing off-task time that doesn’t fit in either roles. Wish me luck!

Getting into the Swing of Things

The above is a very American phrase meaning something like “getting into the rhythm of what’s currently happening.” It’s such an ingrained phrase in American English that it’s hard to define without using the phrase itself.

Photo by KATRIN BOLOVTSOVA on Pexels.com

“Getting into the swing of things” is a descriptor of where I am right now. My fall semester starts tomorrow, and it will take a few days before I fall into the rhythm of life as a professor again. My schedule is much less flexible, I add more necessary tasks for my job, and i have much less free time. Writing time will become scarce and scheduled secondarily to my work tasks.

The challenge is to allow at least a couple hours a day writing, with three hours being optimal for flow. I can look at the schedule right now and see where that will be difficult. Mondays will be the most difficult, as I have meetings after my afternoon class lets out. Meanwhile, Wednesdays and Fridays will be easier — I can schedule 2:30-5 as writing time and maybe even go to Starbucks to write. Tuesdays and Thursdays I work at home, and I can do what I did over summer — get my work done first, and spend that later afternoon block writing. Weekends will be as always. So it’s doable.

The challenge will be to switch gears (another Americanism) from work brain to writing brain. They’re two different modes. Seldom does my work life demand creativity. (My creative life demands a certain amount of critical thinking, though.) Right now I have an afternoon to write before fall semester begins, but I’m not feeling inclined to write because I’m in work brain mode.

I’ve done this transition before — for many years, in fact; I don’t know why it’s a struggle this year. Maybe because I’m in-between projects, and there’s not a writing project currently obsessing me. This, too, will change when I get into the swing of things.

A Round-up of Writing (and Layout) Tools

I haven’t written about writing tools for a while. I haven’t written about them all in one place. Here’s a round-up of tools that take me from first draft to publication-ready. (Note for all my International readers — these are all English language programs):

Photo by RDNE Stock project on Pexels.com

Scrivener. This is the program I use to compose my writing. Think of it as a writing environment that organizes your work by chapters, allows a way to outline your work, take notes on it, set goals, and many other things. Even those people who compose using pen and paper will eventually have to transcribe their work on the computer, and this program is the one you want to use. Competitors in this function are programs like Storyist and online services such as Campfire. Skip those; use this full-featured program. You can find Scrivener here; they also have versions for your iOS gadgets.
ProWritingAid. ProWritingAid will point out your misspellings, your poor comma usage, and much more. I have learned many writing habits over sixty years, some of which I didn’t know were bad habits. For example, I sometimes use too many adjectives, rely heavily on adverbs instead of the perfect verb, or write subjects and objects that don’t agree. All of those grammar rules I failed to absorb in grade school come back to haunt me in my writing. ProWritingAid has matured my writing these past couple years, and I don’t regret getting a lifetime membership. You can find ProWritingAid here.
Atticus. Although you can use Atticus for composing your text, that’s not its strength unless you find Scrivener too complicated. Where Atticus shows its strength is in formatting for publication. You can import a Word document from Scrivener into Atticus, and give it proper page size, section breaks, and chapter titles. It takes a Word document and turns it into the look and feel of a proper book. You can find Atticus here.
Photoshop. As an indie author, I design my book covers. I use either stock photos (and pay for them) or original pieces by my talented niece (I pay for those as well). I need to design these into a 5×8 book cover with a front cover, a side spine with book information, and a back cover with a blurb and author information. Adobe Photoshop does this very well. There is a bit of a learning curve, because Photoshop has so many features that are beyond my skill set. But it also does what I need to do. Photoshop is expensive, so maybe you’d be better off hiring someone for cover production, but that adds up after a while. Here’s the link to Photoshop.
Amazon KDP. Publication platforms will depend on what publishing platform you wish your book to be on. I use Amazon KDP, which means I place my books on Amazon and occasionally other platforms. I find their interface pretty easy as long as I have done my due diligence on Atticus and Photoshop. The biggest challenge has always been tweaking my book cover to fit the number of pages/width of the book. Here’s a link to Amazon KDP.

Buying these at once can get expensive; I recommend prioritizing these and deciding based on your budget and needs. Scrivener only costs $60 US and KDP is free; the others are priced with annual fees and, often, lifetime purchases. In the US, these are eligible as work-related tax deductions if you are working to sell your books, so you save roughly 25% of your expenditure in taxes.

After publishing eight books (mostly the Kringle romances), I don’t know where I’d have gotten without these.

Hopeful Thinking

I have discussed writing as a flow activity often enough that I’ve made the case that writing for the sake of writing is a worthy pursuit. Even so, I like to get recognition for my writing. I want to know that I am an interesting writer and have some skill.

Right now, in society, wanting external validation is a weakness. We call it “attention-seeking”^* and that’s considered bad. However, external validation shapes our self-esteem, according to sociometer theory. When we don’t get it, we shape our behavior in order to get it.

In some ways, I get the validation I need. My friends know to ask me how the writing is going. That’s appropriate and my sociometer registers positive.

What I wish I had, though, is the readers. This is something most indie authors struggle with. There are so many writers out there, and so many books, and some people use traditional publishing as their judge how worthy a book is to read. What traditional publishing signals, in reality, is how well the idea sells. There are good writers in independent publishing. But they’re hard to find, and there’s a catch-22 that dogs indie writers: People read books that are read by others.

How to get readers? I wish I knew. I advertise mine on Facebook and Threads and Instagram. But the ads are not tempting readers to read, and I don’t know what to do about that. It’s hard sometimes, but I persist in hopeful thinking that I will get a following someday.

^*Not all attention-seeking is good, and I can explain this in terms of sociometer theory. The bad form of attention-seeking is that which violates one of the social norms of a group, and that is attention-hogging. We don’t approve of one person getting all the attention, but are often too polite to signal that directly. Wanting positive attention in and of itself is not bad, however; it’s something we’re programmed to do.

A New Project!

I think I have a new project to write. I was going mad dealing with no motivation for writing more short stories, having written three this summer.

I will write the sequel to Kel and Brother Coyote Save the Universe, which is a serial novel on Kindle Vella. In Kel and Brother Coyote, the shipper for hire Kel Beemer gets hired by the monk Brother Coyote. She gives him three rules before agreeing to the hire — no passengers, no politics, and no restricted planets. Brother Coyote, however, breaks all three rules within fifteen minutes. They embark on an adventure that involves a plot to conquer a beauty planet, a psychic symbiont, and the two’s pasts intertwined.

The serial can be found here.

I’m not sure where I’m going to go with this, but I’m going on a writing retreat this weekend! I will spend my writing time hashing out the basic plot and other fine points; it looks like Broadway Coffee in Kansas City will be the venue.

An Excerpt from My Latest Short Story

This is an excerpt from my latest short story, Simon and the Gift. It happens in the Hidden in Plain Sight universe, about 10 years after the novel I will be publishing on January 1, Reclaiming the Balance.

Simon Albee had never eaten of the Apples. He had rejected the ritual of belonging to Barn Swallows’ Dance, the collective he had become the sysop for many years ago. He had fought the Apocalypse with them, a low-key event for humanity to hang in the balance. Simon had almost died answering a call from InterSpace, where the Archetypes who could end the Apocalypse came from.
What made me change my mind? Simon thought of the years he watched the others with their Gifts, from animal empathy to spinning illusions. He knew why he didn’t choose to eat from the Trees. It wasn’t just that he didn’t trust things people referred to in capital letters.
He rejected the Gifts because he was afraid they would reject him.
I have always been weird. Neurodivergent was the official label these days; although that included people like Gideon, whose differences lay in the stability of his emotions. Simon’s differences were in how he dealt with the information flowing into him from all channels. He had come to terms with the sometimes overwhelming world, taking refuge in his office when he couldn’t take any more input.
Josh, the keeper of the Trees, had asked Simon earlier that week why he hadn’t gotten a Gift from the Trees. “I don’t like losing control,” Simon said, which was both true and a lie. He didn’t like losing control; he also didn’t see gaining a gift as losing control. A Gift was like any other new competence, and one worked to get better at it. But he, in his strangeness, would not get a Gift.
“I want to go in by myself,” Simon said to Josh as they stood at the edge of the food forest, an oasis of fruit trees and edible plants with a secret in the middle.
“We can arrange that.” Josh paused for a moment, and Simon wondered if he talked to the Trees in that moment of silence. The skeptic in him thought not.

As he walked through the trees toward the Garden, he heard a screech as a woodpecker flew overhead, then the clear, melodic note of a yellowthroat. Various birds chattered, and Simon wondered how anyone would think the orchard was silent.
Until he reached the clearing at the center, surrounded by the food forest. He had been there before, in the Garden with its two Trees, but only in a group. Once, the collective played an improvised concert in the Garden, and once or twice, they sought it in a group for solace. The place was as verdant, green upon green, as he remembered.
Now, the clearing stood in a stunning silence. He thought it glowed faintly, which he accepted without trying to explain. If he didn’t question, just accepted it in the way he accepted the noisy world, it didn’t disturb him. It just was.
He sat cross-legged in front of the Trees, thinking about how he didn’t move as easily as he did when he first arrived at the collective. It had been ten years, and he was almost forty. It was bound to happen. He stared at the Trees for some moments, capturing the improbability of ripe apples in May, one peculiarity of the space. One yellow and one red, hanging from branches as if waiting for him. That gave him goosebumps, because it was not rational. He dismissed it as another thing that just was.
He stood, slowly, and walked to the Trees. The ritual, which everyone at Barn Swallows’ Dance knew, was to pick one apple from each Tree and take a bite of each. One bite was all it took. He wondered if he would like the apples.
One apple in each hand. They seem on the small side, but they didn’t need to be large for one person. He sat back down with his back against one tree. He had forgotten, he realized, to ask the names of the Tree from Josh — their names always changed — and hoped that he didn’t spoil part of the ritual.
He took a pocketknife out of his pocket and peeled the yellow apple. From a young age, he had rejected apple peel; it was tough and had a bitter taste in his mouth. He took the peeled apple and cut it into slices, then took one bite. He remembered the first time he had eaten an apple; he was three years old. His parents despaired of him ever eating healthy food until they discovered he would eat apples without the peel. The apple tasted sweet and tart and juicy, and his teeth made a satisfying crunch as he bit into it. This yellow apple was that apple, that first apple.
He did the same with the second apple, the red one. The second apple reminded him of haroseth, the apples and honey and cinnamon of Passover. But then other things: it tasted the way mint smelled, and violets, with a touch of wood smoke. All things that he liked, but in odd combinations. He hugged to himself the experience.
Then, he took a deep breath.
He didn’t feel any different.

An Upcoming Writing Retreat

It looks like my summer vacation^* is about to end. I have a little over a week until meetings start. In fact, next weekend is my last weekend before school revs up. But I will have a writing retreat in Kansas City that weekend!

Writing retreats are when I spend a weekend some place with cafes where I can spend a good part of the day writing and where I can eat excellent ethnic food. My husband gets coffee and ethnic food out of it^**.

I’m working on short stories right now. The stories I’m working on reside in the Hidden in Plain Sight universe, to be published in a future collection. I’d rather write stories for competition/publication in journals and the like, but I don’t feel inspired. To read the first collection and get an intro to the universe, look here.

I will come back Monday just in time for meetings two days later. And the first day of meetings lasts all day and is followed by a picnic^***. Summer needs a last hurrah.

^*Such that it is. I work all summer, but at least I get to set my own schedule.
^** My husband doesn’t write anymore. I wish I could get him to write again, because I think he needs a flow activity in his life.
^*** The first day of meetings is not a picnic, however.

Back to Writing

I have arrived back home after a week of road tripping to New York Hope and back, and after a 14-hour nap, I am back to writing. I have a short story to finish, and then maybe I will start another short story.

I’m writing short stories lately because I’m all noveled out, and because I need some shorter compositions for entering for publication and contests. The last story I had published was in Fall 2023 by Flying Ketchup Press, Inner Child. This story answers the perennial question, “What if my inner child is a brat?”

I need some inspiration for short stories. Perhaps a trip to Starbucks, but not today. I’m still recovering from the trip. That’s life after 60.

Two days in a van did not yield any inspiration. However, a couple new developments in my writing life occurred, one good, one bad.

The bad first: A submission of mine on Submittable was rejected. I’m not surprised; I haven’t been able to find this particular story a home. Maybe it’s not a good story. I like it, but I consider myself a proud mom of what might just be an unlikeable kid. I get lots of rejections as a writer; I keep trying.

The good development: my niece is working on the sketches for the cover of my latest novel, Reclaiming the Balance, and it is coming along nicely. Looks like I have no excuses for not publishing it this January.

I don’t know a single writer who doesn’t have imposter syndrome (Ok, I know one who appears not to; he’s insufferable). We all take rejections hard, and when facing success, we feel like we don’t deserve it. I’m not sure why the insecurities but they seem like a universal.

I will keep on plugging, keep on editing the novels I have in reserve, and keep on waiting for inspiration for some short stories.