  Short Stories
This week: Edited by: Leger~  
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The purpose of this newsletter is to help the Writing.com short story author hone their craft and improve their skills. Along with that I would like to inform, advocate, and create new, fresh ideas for the short story author. Write to me if you have an idea you would like presented.
This week's Short Story Editor
Leger~ |
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Hyphen? What's a hyphen?
A hyphen is a punctuation mark. What size is it? It's smaller than a dash or a minus sign. So what does this little punctuation do? Hyphenation is used join words or separate syllables in a word. British spelling tends to hyphenate whereas Americans drop the hyphen. Try to remember this when reviewing stories.
When should I use a hyphen? There are several good examples.
Compound numbers need a hyphen. (forty-six)
When two or more words act as an adjective before a noun. (well-loved singer) A hyphen is not used when the compound modifier comes after the noun. (The singer was well loved.)
To prevent confusion! (Re-sign the permission slip. Resign your position.)
With certain prefixes. Use a hyphen with the prefixes ex- (meaning former), self-, all-; with the suffix -elect; between a prefix and a capitalized word; and with numbers or letters. (mid-July)
In publishing to help line wrap.
There are many compound words that use hyphens by convention, rather than a rule. (tattle-tale, whip-poor-will, editor-in-chief)
When reviewing and you find a hyphen, remember...in the author's country, it may be correct. By the same token, when getting a review with this type of suggested correction, remember there may be a difference in your country's spelling and punctuating.
Write and Review On!
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Excerpt: Chris finished the last chorus and the crowd went wild. It didn't matter where Golden Earring played, as long as we closed with Albino Moon the crowds could never get enough. Chris's moaning alto-soprano close had the power to carry us all a million miles away. At one jam-packed club in Phoenix she carried the final chorus acappella. The rest of us got so caught up in her voice we forgot to play and the audience never even noticed. Golden Earring had the world by the tail, until the night we played in Millbrook.
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Excerpt: There’s a familiar silence between us as we walk and pass each quaint downtown store. We've no destination in mind. We’re killing time. The bustling town around me fails to capture my attention - my thoughts are sleeping, tucked away somewhere while I amble alongside Brian.
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#1532604 by Not Available. |
Excerpt: Once in the future, a long ago, when Goddess Mother Earth was young, Luna the Moon had full reign of the night sky and she hung out there all night every night. The stars were her playmates and she was a happy child.
Excerpt: Pebbles made good houses. At least that's what Little Dove thought. She sat beside one of the Island's many springs, constructing a small building out of stones and moss and bits of bark she'd found lying about, the knees of her dress getting muddy. She used the mud to glue the structure together, leaving a space for the door, and then set to making a tiny stick person to go inside the house. If she had the chance before it got time to head home, she would make a whole tribe full of stick people. After this one, she would have five. A man, a woman, and three children, their daughters. A family.
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#1169057 by Not Available. |
Excerpt: Philip and Jean Martin had been planning this vacation for months and now at last they were on their way. Jean drove as Philip unfolded the road map and said, "The next turn should be ten miles up this road then we'll find Irvington twenty miles after that." He refolded the map, put it down next to him and stared out the windshield.
Suddenly Philip became excited. "Stop the car," he yelled and fumbled with his seatbelt. "Pull over and stop!"
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Excerpt: “Close your eyes and don’t look until I tell you!” Matt was leading me by the hand into his work room. He was excited about what he was about to show me.
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Excerpt: The sun was beginning to set over the horizon and Caitlin still had a blank canvas. She watched as the colors blended together and the last few rays shimmered across the water of the lake. The whispering wind blew gently across the branches of the trees that surrounded the lake, and Caitlin wished she had been able to at least touch her brush to the white slate in front of her.
Excerpt: “What do you mean I have to learn how to use a sword?” I sputtered as my guardian angel began to explain the duties of a galactic guardian.
“It is the traditional weapon against the lower demon forms.” His voice didn’t sound the least bit perturbed. I might as well been talking to cabbage, well, except cabbage isn’t this ten foot tall creature of light and might who had healing and transformational power far beyond the ken of a mortal like me.
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Excerpt: It was a day like any other, except it was July 4th. The year was seventy-six, another one of those special anniversaries celebrating America’s birthday by a large multiple of one hundred. It was a different July 4th for me because it was the first one where I didn’t wake up in a particularly good mood for the occasion.
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Excerpt: “Where is he?” Archbishop EmÃlio Mancini asked, after greeting monk Rufino, the director of the monastery.
“In his cell, your Eminence, in seclusion. Father Antonio doesn’t eat and has only drunk water for more than three weeks,” said the monk.
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This month's question: What spelling differences do you notice when reviewing?
Last month's question: What are some of your family stories?
faithjourney: Thank you! I thought I was the only one that went crazy from Nana's recipes calling for a pinch of this and a dash of that. To my logical mind, that won't work. With Mom's help, I did figure it out and converted some of our more popular recipes to the 21st century in a database. Much easier! Great idea to collect the stories that go with those recipes as well - that would be a wonderful family heirloom!
Artemis Quill  : This is a newsletter I always look forward to read and contemplate!!! Artemis Quill 
sleepy : My mother has very similar recipes from her mother. It is really cool I think, and makes them seem very personal in that someone close to the writer of the recipe must have seen what the person was using to make the measurements. Great article!
esprit : I especially enjoyed this one about Anecdotes. As I read about the old crockery cup, I immediately thought of my mother's kitchen. Thanks, good job.
Jaye P. Marshall  : Loved your editorial. My grandmother was also a "SPD" - smidgen, pinch and dash - cook who's recipes were "iffy" at best. Also a fine groups of selected stories.
debkuhlmeyer: What a great idea. I have lot's of hand me down recipes stuffed in a wooden recipe box on my shelf. You are right, there is a story for each one.
When my daughter was in second grade, her teacher had each student write down one of their favorite family dishes and how they thought it might be created. (You wouldn't believe the thoughts these children have about cooking)
Then she told the students to ask their mother to write down the real recipe on an index card. After the teacher collected both versions, she placed the child and mother versions on one page with a picture of the child. Finally, the teacher bound the pages of all the parent student recipe's into one laminated book.
I will keep it forever, it is very funny and touching.
Sincerely,
Deb Kuhlmeyer
Reference and quotation:
http://owl.english.purdue.edu/handouts/grammar/g_hyphen.html |
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Short Stories: March 18, 2009 Issue [#2943]
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