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My Grandfather Passed Away

This week’s post is not joyful. I lost my grandfather Sunday morning. He had been in the hospital for more than a week. I will miss him dearly, for he was a titan among men.

This post is personal. I am thankful for my grandfather’s life. Not many live to be ninety-one-years old. But I will miss him. I was not able to say goodbye. I have been beating myself up for living seven hundred miles away. Not only am I stayed by this pandemic, my wife is eight months pregnant. I simply cannot travel right now. Instead, I pass my days in three feet of snow, far away from my grieving family.

Grandpa and his great grandson – (my son): 2019

It is hard losing someone, especially my grandfather. My own dad died seven years ago. But I will miss my grandfather more than him. I grew up in a challenging home. And at school, I was often bullied. Visiting my grandparents house was a reprieve. They were godly and peaceful souls. Of course, they were not perfect, but they were bright fires in a world of darkness. Without them, I may have turned out for the worst.

Over the last couple days, I have replayed heartfelt memories like old records. My favorite one? I was eleven years old, and riding with him on his John Deere tractor. Grandpa had a massive farm. I use to love spending my summers helping him make hay. One summer, my grandpa tried to help me with math. I am a creative, and despite his countless efforts, I never picked up the skill. But this one sticks out. We spent hours turning the hay field into massive square root and geometric equations. The tractor’s motor hummed into white noise. The sun was a beating ninety-plus degrees. Lingering odors of diesel and sweat, hung in the air. My neck hot from hours in the sun. And on his knee, wielding a pencil normally kept in his ear, he gave me my lesson. Seems small? It is. But he was the only person to ever try and help me over the years. It was my grandpa and my grandmother who gave me the gift of reading. This later turned into my passion for writing. My grandparents rejected ultra capitalism, and performance identity. A few years ago I landed a high paying job in finance. I remember telling him, myself swelling with pride, I was making $20,000+ a month. His response woke me up: Nothing good comes selling mortgages. How can you sleep selling debt? I did not last long after that lol. He valued living small, being a good neighbor, and taking your rest. The mind was a thing to be cultivated and cherished. Farm life is hard work, but it might be the most honest work a person can ever do. I look back on their cracks of wisdom, like a priest meditates on the book of Proverbs. I was basically raised in the shire. I wish I had valued it more when I was young. I share a million sweet memories with my grandfather. Including his obsession and pride of our family’s role in the American civil war. Him and I were both members, for a short while, of a reenactment club. My grandfather is directly responsible for my love of history.

However, I am ashamed. I wish I had been a better grandson. I regret, a decade ago, moving far away, and returning home to visit only once a year. Occasionally, I made two visits. When I lived just down the road from them, after school, I would spend two or three evenings a week at their house. You could always count on being welcome. Perhaps, this is just my grief talking. But the truth is, I may never forgive myself for not forcing myself to come home more. I have always been an isolationist. Debilitating depression is an ongoing war. Home (visiting VA) often triggered painful memories of abuse. I stayed away. As a consequence, I missed out on the final decade of my grandpa’s life. This alone breaks my heart. If I could only hug him, and tell him I am sorry. Sorry, I had not the courage to overcome my demons. Because he had never hurt me. I should have braved my hometown to see him more. To spend time with the man who gave me my creativity. When he passed two days ago, the world forever became one degree colder.

I miss you grandpa. Goodbye.

Losing a love one is never easy. I have lost many throughout my young life. But I know God’s will is his design, not mine. I find peace in accepting his sovereignty. My grandpa is with God now. Perhaps, he is at this moment, converting all of heaven into becoming Democrats (he was passionate about his politics).

Beat the Boy; Destroy the Man 

W. Alexander Dunford  I will never forget the television’s blue light that night fifteen years ago. Leonardo DiCaprio’s Blood Diamond played. Outside, beneath black skies, rain pelted our windows and the house’s bones braced against high winds. Thunder shook the walls.  It was Father’s idea to watch the movie. He loved violence, and I loved…

by Alexander Dunford

The Day God Died: Chapters 1 &2

“…in that moment my fear retreated. I discovered I hated him and his kind. I hated his affluence, his expensive clothes, his chiseled looks, and the arrogance he was born to. But most of all, I hated the power he held over me, his assumption of authority, and the truth of his superiority.”

by Alexander Dunford

A Season of Faith

I reached a milestone this week. I finished reading the entire Bible. I am proud of myself; this was no easy feat. I finally can say I have read the whole Bible, every word. I do not know whom in real life, I would actually say it to. But I can say it, and that is something. You might say, that is good for you, but how is this related to your writing blog? My answer, God is my inspiration for writing. I just did not know that for a long time.

This post is not meant to be self-gratifying or boastful. My purpose is to show you how transformative reading the Bible is.

If you have read my work, you know I teeter on the edge of existentialism. This life is a mess, and God gives me a firm foundation in a collapsing world. He gives me a reason for hope. As an artist and scholar, I have long looked for my voice. I think I found it now; Or at least I am close. I do know one thing for certain, my writing is meant for ministry. Whether that is apologetics, fiction, or creative nonfiction, I do not know, but I know I am called to both cloth and pen.

“I Am Second”

W. Alexander

I study creative writing at Liberty University, under New York Times Best selling author Karen Kingsbury. Both play a major role in influencing me. But for once, I do not mind being influenced. When I write about God or themes of God, my heart feels unleashed. I feel nothing, but peace, love, and fire. There is more to my writing than mere words. A higher message is being conveyed. One of hope, in a world that suffers generation-to-generation.

With that being said, I confess I am no pedantic observer of every scriptural truth. I am after all, human. God and I disagree on quite a bit. I lean progressive in scholarship; think C.S. Lewis. But I do submit to God’s design for life, not mine. I do not understand why some things are sin and others are not; etcetera. But my feelings on the subject are not part of the equation. I am second. This is where I find peace. Submission brings inner peace. That is the lesson I learned from reading the entire Bible.

Now, I am curious to learn what inspires you? What makes your heart race when you write? Whom is the reader you imagine reading your manuscript? I cannot wait to read your answers.

Below is my Goodreads review for the devotional Bible I finished a couple days ago.

Wow! I did it. I read the entire Bible, beginning to end. Peterson’s edition is designed to only take one year; it took me three. Life gets busy. I have school, a toddler, work, other books to read, etcetera. But I am proud to say, finally, I have read the entire Bible; every single word. I spent my mornings with the Bible in one hand and coffee in the other.

You should understand that The Message translation is not an authoritative translation. And Peterson’s, The Message Remix is to be read as a devotional. Serious scholarship will be done elsewhere. But you are not reading this Bible for serious scholarship; you are reading it to spend time with God. To have a daily conversation with your creator, I highly recommend this Bible. It took me years, but I am glad I finished it.
W. Alexander’s Review

A Nod To Derry’s Son

Derry, New Hampshire was the longtime home of Robert Frost. This poem is in dedication to my favorite poetry book: North of Boston, and his poem October.

by Alexander Dunford

I’m Published in The Closed Eye Open

Hi, friends and readers, subscribers and first-time-site clickers. I have big, beautiful news to share with you. I published in The Closed Eye Open, which is an impressive literary journal boasting beautiful art and great writing. If you’re looking for something new, creatively speaking, to delight and inspire you, I recommend reading The Closed Eye…

by Alexander Dunford

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Know Your Audience

W. Alexander studies creative writing at Liberty University, Lynchburg VA.

You write to be read. And to be read, you have to write for a specific audience. You must be ready to tell a publisher the type of person you believe your ideal reader is. No agent/publisher will take you seriously if you say, ‘I am writing this for everyone.’ Trust me, say that, and they will not turn one page of your manuscript. Make sure you have a specific target audience in mind. Although, it is not your job to sell your book; it is your job to write a book that will sell. If publishing is the goal. Sometimes it is not. In that case, this post is not for you. The topic of your audience will be part of the first conversation you have with an agent/publisher. Get yourself ready for it.

Paris, France 2018.

How does a writer determine their audience?

Well, for one thing, start with genre. Are you writing science fiction? If so, that genre’s interests varies exponentially. Are you targeting young adults, boomers, or someone in between? Does gender play a part? Etcetera. Basically, where do you imagine seeing this book stored on a retailer’s bookshelf? I know, I know; at the front door. But again, the agent/publishers in your future want a practical answer. Think about this a great deal, before throwing too much time into wrestling syntax. This does not mean you have to handcuff yourself. Write whatever you want. But know whom it is, you think, that would read your novel.

I know this is a short post, and I am sorry about that. The last couple weeks in my Inspirational Writing class, led by Karen Kingsbury, we have focused on who our audiences are. She and my adjunct professor are doing everything they can to drive the point home. As always, I share what I learn with you. Classes are going well. I am still holding onto my 4.0. Which is no small feat for a guy who returned to school at thirty (humble brag). Again, I wish this week’s post was longer and more in depth, but it has been crazy busy.

Please let me know what you think. Share your ideas with me. And if you have not already, please subscribe to my blog. Thanks.

Writing

I’m starting 2022 intending to grow. Help me grow as an artist and influencer and follow.

by Alexander Dunford

Writers Read

A writer reads. Not all readers love to write, but all writers love to read. And the great ones read several different genres and styles. The most important thing to understand about writing well; you must read a lot and often.

W. Alexander studies Creative Writing at Liberty University. He lives in Wolfeboro, New Hampshire.

I am not talking aptitude for writing essays. Those are easy. Writing creative fiction or creative non-fiction, means you cannot, for example, overuse determiners and transitions like you would with a school essay or professional email. So, scratch what you have been taught up to this point. Do not just take my word for it. Grab any creative book. Fiction or nonfiction, it does not matter. Open it to any page. Circle all transitions, prepositional phrases, and determiners you see. Find any? Yeah, I told you. They rarely show up. A professor of mine advises keeping them down to one or two per page (in story telling). Now compare that with your writing style. I know, it sucks to see it. But you are welcome. For now on, you will write better fiction or creative nonfiction. This tip alone will improve your writing immediately.

I promise what you are trying to convey will stand on its own. Actors notice great acting; writers notice great writing. Noticing means you know something about what you see. When you read, watch each sentence like an actor watches another’s hands. Notice pacing and rhythm. All capable writers are masters of noticing. Our lives are devoted to observing the finer details. See, your OCD is a blessing after all.

Noticing means you know something about what you see.

W. Alexander

I wish there were other quick tips to improve your writing. But even the advice given, might prove difficult to implement. At first. The best way to improve your writing is to read, often. Not one book a month, but four or five or more. Tiger Woods is a famous golfer whom is universally recognized as one of the games greatest athletes to ever swing a driver. He boasts that before he plays a round a golf on any given day, he hits one thousand balls. Reading is like going to the driving range before playing eighteen holes. It can be a great warm up. How could anyone be a great story teller, if they do not read stories? The answer is, any writer’s whom do not love to read, end up editors or worse, sales people (publishing agents). I shutter. That is joke. But one thing is certain, If you do not read, you are not a writer. You might be a great school paper writer, but a far cry from a novelist.

Read. Read. Read. Read some more. And read across styles and genres. Immerse yourself into poetry (which will teach you everything), fiction, creative nonfiction, etcetera. Manuals might be the only exception. But even they will prove useful to the creative. Read everything.

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I hope this blurb of mine helps. Classes are going well and I enjoy sharing what I learn with all of you. Tell me what you think? Maybe you have an idea about a topic I should cover? Tell me what you are reading? I want to hear from you!

I am currently reading Les Miserables. You can follow what I am reading on Goodreads.

A World of Distraction

Many forces compete for our attention. I know I am not the only one exhausted by ultra-capitalist tools to alter reality. I am most susceptible by social media and ever spinning ‘doomsday’ news cycles. My addiction to them is debilitating. But unplugging from it all is not so easy for us millennials. How I wish it was. Where and how can anyone connect in a world that relies on social media? Will not cutting off facebook, twitter, and instagram for good, cut me out of society? How would I know of local events? Do other people actually know their neighbors? So unless I am at some communal fellowship; church, work, or event of common interest, I am completely superficial when meeting new people. I will probably never ask a complete stranger anything about their lives. Cause what if they ask me about mine? That thought alone is frightening. I don’t even know who I am. We are a generation distracted from knowing ourselves. It is lonely.

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I believe social media destroyed the fabric of community. I hear about it all the time. All of us can relate to speaking to those living a generation or two before us. They talk about how interactions between people were deliberate. Premeditated. Can you imagine that? When you had something to say; you called a specific person. You had your say and walked away. There was no burden to make superficial general statements online, so not to upset anyone. They talked to one person at a time; we talk to hundreds at a time. The ramifications of our generation is we have no sense of community. Yet we are connected to each other more than ever. Our grandparents generation never had the burden of context. We worry all the time if something we say will be taken wrong. This can’t be healthy. I have tried many times to step away. But I hate being alone. I already suffer bouts of depression. Losing online connection is unfathomable. Because even though it is harmful, superficial, and honestly unreal; it is all many of us have. I confess I have few real friends and none within five hundred miles. It is no easy thing to write, I am a loser.

But there must be something I can do.

I decided if I can’t pull my attention away from these anthemic forces vying for attention; I would compete them out. That is to say, I would find something ‘productive’ to replace them. The plan is to distract myself into something new. I wanted a new habit that would enrich my life. Something in addition to my writing. I chose nature.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Let me tell you how crazy this idea has been. I know nothing of nature. Absolutely nothing! I cannot name more than three types of trees on earth. When I first stepped into that other realm; the forest, I found myself lost. Everything was fuzzy. Eerily quiet. Often I mistook a scurrying chipmunk as a terrifying predator. I laugh about that now. It still happens time-to-time. But I kept returning to the quiet realm of trees, birds, fungus, etcetera. I had made a discovery. One in which would make Henry David Thoreau proud. The forest is anything but still and quiet. How did I ever feel alone there? It took time to render myself noticing things around me. Under almost any canopy of trees is a cacophony of songs sung. An ever evolving orchestra. What use to be only mud and rock; the earthen floor was now a freeway of sentient traversing. In time I came to distinguish between types of birds and plants. I have not yet learned all their types. But I notice them now. I wonder if anyone else notices just how loud the forest is? A living organic city. One where God is still mayor. Of course, without the app iNaturalist, I would not be able to tell you one plant from the next. But I am learning. Just like learning a new language; to learn the forest you must first learn her nouns.

“For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?”

Matthew 8:36 KJV

Did that do it then? Have I dropped social media? No, not completely. But I use it a lot less. Will-power didn’t work for me. How could it? But the art of noticing things helps. I still know next to nothing. Despite that, I have heard the song only the wind carries. A melody of a bigger life. Her lyrics permeate through me a sense of higher purpose. I am convinced all the wisdom needed in life can be obtained by sitting in the woods. There I am not alone. But connected to something higher and deeper than the material world’s urgency. What has humanity lost in a world built on screens and concrete? My answer; soul.

Please let me know if you have had a similar experience.

The Day god Died: Chapters I & II

“…I hated him and his kind. I hated his affluence, his expensive clothes, his chiseled looks, and the arrogance he was born too. But most of all, I hated the power he held over me, his assumption of authority, and the truth of his superiority.”

by Alexander Dunford

Revision, Learn to Love It

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Anyone can write. Few revise well. Revision is essential. It is much more than spell-check and grammar adjustments. Revision is ensuring the story you are telling is clear. Rarely is misinterpretation the mistake of a reader. The job of writers is to ensure readers do not do any heavy lifting. Any skewed reading, comes from bad writing. How does the writer ensure the message they are conveying is interpreted clearly? You guessed it; revision. No one sits down and writes a novel by the seat of their pants in one long first and final draft. If they do, the writing will be garbage, regardless of talent. I would not count on being the exception.

Related Post

The Day god Died: Chapters I & II

“…I hated him and his kind. I hated his affluence, his expensive clothes, his chiseled looks, and the arrogance he was born too. But most of all, I hated the power he held over me, his assumption of authority, and the truth of his superiority.”

by Alexander Dunford

Revision is where the real magic happens.

Starting over sucks. I dread it. All who write dread it. My stomach turns at the thought. But understand this, the rewards of revising will outweigh the pains. You will be shocked. Learn to enjoy the process. Here are some questions you can ask about your work:

  • Why should my reader turn the first page to the second? Does the first sentence, paragraph, page introduce tension? If not, red alarm.
  • Is there unnecessary summary? Cut. Cut. Cut! I too often have the impulse to cover too much ground. It destroys energy and I find, I tell more than show. This is a bad thing. The whole premise of writing prose, is to show not tell. A concept I will elaborate on with a later post.
  • Is it original? Stereotypes are lazy. A good writer will extract any cliches and make a point to show the exact and honest.
  • Is it clear? Ambiguity and mystery are one of the pleasures of literature. But there is a fine line between mystery and sloppiness. I love characters rich with contradictions. That is the human condition. But I often have to start off with a more simple reality. Then I can build out the imaginative. Have your character answer these: Where are we? When are we? Who are they? How do things look? What time of day or night is it? Weather? What is happening? On how to create captivating characters, check out: Create Captivating Characters
  • Is it self-conscious? Just tell the story. Your style will follow of itself. But you have to just tell the story. If you get carried away dressing your prose with all your wit and insight, there is a good chance you are having more fun writing that the reader will have reading. Good writing is easy reading! Just tell the story.
  • Where is it too long? In fiction, you want sharpness, economy, and vivid details in telling. With every sentence, say what you mean to say and get out. Hit it and quit it. Use the fewest possible words. What does this look like? My advice, read the poets. Trust me, the poets will teach you everything.
  • Are there too many scenes? Try and tell your story with the fewest possible scenes. It is tempting to give each turn of plot or change of setting a new scene when fusing several together would proffer better effect.
  • Where is it too general? Look for general and vague terms. Write instead a particular thing, an exact size and degree. In fact, my short tip, cut the words very and really out of your work entirely. You are welcome!

“If you haven’t surprised yourself, you haven’t written”

Eudora Welty

Revision, revision, revision. Originality, economy, and clarity all come from thorough revision. These questions are just the start and short of taking a creative writing class, they will serve you well.

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Writing

I’m starting 2022 intending to grow. Help me grow as an artist and influencer and follow.

by Alexander Dunford

Remember in fiction, the goal is to show characters doing things. Never tell what you mean. I promise if the prose is clear and concise, the reader will not misinterpret. You write for the reader. If you forget that, you have lost your way.

My goal here is to share what I am learning with others. I would love for you to follow my blog and join my journey. I also wanted to ask you something. I am thinking of creating a photography page on my blog. I love urban photography. Let me know if you think it would be a good idea or not?