For example, here is a selection from the beginning of LOW TIDE: “The seagulls bounced around him, lighting just long enough to snatch up the pieces of bread, then hovering in the air, wings whipping, to wait for more…To his mind, it was one of the few places left that actually felt like Florida, with its century-old brick and clapboard shops and houses, the marina filled with shrimp and oyster boats and people who couldn’t care less about Disney World.”
Ms. McKenna takes an interesting approach to her series, in that the first four books take the time you rarely have with a mystery series to introduce you to a unique set of characters who live on the Florida coast, a romance that delights with its unfolding, and enough suspense to survive a hurricane!
You can buy each of the first four books of the series, LOW TIDE, RIPTIDE, WHAT WASHES UP, and LANDFALL separately. But if you’re like me, you’ll be hooked after the first one. Save yourself some money and buy the set.
Writing teacher Donald Maass in THE EMOTIONAL CRAFT OF FICTION says the way to pull readers into your writing is to engage them emotionally. Ms. McKenna does just that.
Ansel Adams used to hoist his huge large-format camera onto the roof of his “woody” station wagon to get the exact shot that he wanted. He was working with plates, rather than film, which made getting just the right shot so important. He planned ahead.
I’m no Ansel Adams. Call me an impulse photographer. Yet, I was pleased when I discovered all seven of Adams’s “zones” in this snapshot, white to black.
I almost always use color in Zion National Park, yet black and white can equally dramatic. How can you lose when you are photographing red rocks and snow!
I work from my gut. I just work and out it comes.
I don’t know what it is until it’s finished
and often I title a piece after it’s done.
Call it chance, call it fate.
There’s more than one thing going on. ~Dale Chihuly~
I encountered these three roof lines in a historical district near the Phoenix Art Museum. They look alike, but are quite different.
Each is painted a slightly variant shade of blue. The windows they shelter are different. The supporting posts are lodged at different points on the roof. The third bears a chimney and a different medallion at the peak. It is almost as though each has proclaimed their own individuality, although staying related.
It’s like human triplets. I’ve often wondered about the practice of dressing identical triplets exactly alike. And then I hear that even then, mothers can tell them apart, knowing them so well from before birth.
We are all alike, and we are all different. And that’s okay!
The walls we build around ourselves
to keep out sadness
also keep out joy. ~Jim Rohn~