A Strong Cast Makes or Breaks the Story.
 I suppose every author eventually figures out their own process for developing characters. It’s such an important part of writing fiction. Here is a closer look at my journey to discovering my process.
 I have this small note mounted above my desk. It reads: Characters drive the story. Conflict makes them interesting. Show don’t tell.
 When I first started writing Bag of Lies, I knew the characters would make or break my story, but I wasn’t sure how I was going to design them. I guess I approached the process like many amateur writers who don’t know what they’re doing. I started with several vague ideas and went from there. 
 I needed a villain: someone dark and sinister. I needed a hero. He had to be likable, someone my readers could connect with. But I also wanted him to be believable as a person. He needed a few character flaws to make him feel more human. I tried pulling these details from thin air, but I quickly realized I needed a more concrete way of doing this. 
 After several weeks of researching how other authors develop characters and exploring which methods might work for me, I settled on a process. Here is what I figured out. 
 I was struggling so much with a blank slate. I had to start with a structure. First I selected one or two people I knew. I thought I might use them as a starting point to create a fictional character. They needed to have similar personalities and mannerisms. I then merged the two into a single personality that could represent a bare-bones structure that I could then build on. I didn’t limit myself to people I knew in real life. I quickly started identifying characters from movies and books that had made an impression on me and started blending them into the mix. I was careful not to duplicate a specific fictional character. They needed to be my own. But like a cook in a kitchen, I started pulling ingredients from shelves and cupboards. 
 About 4 chapters into my first draft, I hit a breakthrough that made a huge difference. Up until that point, anytime I needed to add a physical detail to a character into a specific paragraph, I just randomly made it up as I wrote. Then I’d have to spend all this time going back to what I had already written to make certain that none of my details conflicted with each other. “Wait a minute. Did Michael have blue eyes? Or were they brown?”
 Many of you may already know, but in case you didn’t, I’m a photographer, digital artist, and painter. So the idea hit me. What if I create a visual representation of my characters? 
When I need a specific detail, I could just look at that character’s portrait and describe what they look like. I could match these character drawings to their personality profiles, and suddenly I have a fleshed-out fictional character. Suddenly they came to life for me. I wasn’t guessing or making things up as I went along. 
 So I stopped writing for a few weeks and started creating a cast of character portraits. One had red hair, another black. One was bald, another fat. Each drawing held something unique that caused them to stand out from the others. Then I started pairing them up with personalities and mannerisms. I was really getting somewhere. 
 The final touch was like putting the icing on a cake. One afternoon the epiphany fell from the sky. Each of them needed their own identifiable quirk: some kind of mannerism, speech pattern, or characteristic to set them apart. This element would make the characters memorable and able to stand on their own while part of an ensemble. 
 All of these little steps made such a huge difference for me. By the time I jumped back into finishing the first draft of the manuscript, I was already falling in love with these wonderful characters. It didn’t take long for them to take on a life of their own. Again and again, I found myself asking, “So what would Flint do here?” “How would Ichabod handle this?” Before I knew it, the entire novel went in a direction I had not expected. It was a much better story when I stepped back and let the characters do what they wanted to do. It sounds crazy, but once I created the characters and got out of the way, they did most of the work. The novel turned out so much better than I’d hoped for. I knew the concept was interesting and it would make a good book. But who knew it would turn out to be such a page-turner. Of course, my editor and proofreading team also helped polish my book into an even more amazing epic adventure. 

As a dyslexic, movies tend to be my first choice in quenching my insatiable passion for stories. Of course, a well-written novel can far exceed the richness and quality of a film, but a two-hour film is simply faster and easier to experience. When it comes to movies, I have a broad taste in genres. As a student of literature, film-making, and storytelling, I appreciate just about anything as long as it is well written. But if you really want to impress me, the story must take me in a direction I wasn’t expecting to go. With that in mind, I definitely have a soft spot for mystery and suspense. Most of my favorite books and movies keep secrets, only to reveal them with a climactic twist. I love being surprised!  Here’s the thing about hiding unexpected surprises in fiction. Unless the surprise is kept secret, it can ruin the experience of the dramatic reveal. Attempting to preserve these gold nugget reveals, can make a general discussion of this particular kind of story somewhat tricky. 
 For a while now, I’ve wanted to share some of the influences that have left an impression on my own fiction. The following is an attempt to discuss such influences without “spoiling” them for those who have yet to experience them.
 M. Night Shyamalan has released several successful films in the past 20 years. He is known for his wild twist endings. When I first went to see “The Village” in the theater, I was mostly unimpressed, at least for the first hour and a half. I just assumed I was watching a typical jump-scare horror film. I never dreamed that the surprise twist would transport me to a completely different time and place. It was a reveal I never saw coming, and those are my favorite kind. Another of his films, “The Sixth Sense”, starred Bruce Willis and hid a huge secret for most of the film. The climatic reveal near the end changed the nature of the entire story. Although I had my suspicions about Willis’ character, I was excited to see how Shyamalan executed the reveal. Again, masterfully done. Even after I had experienced several of Shyamalan’s films, he continues to pull the wool over my eyes. When I watched “The Visit”, I was anxiously expecting the twist, but once again he took the story in a direction I hadn’t anticipated. 
 Another surprise ending that just blew me away when I saw it was Edward Norton and Richard Geer’s “Primal Fear”. My jaw literally dropped open when I realized what had happened. And then of course some films reveal hidden identities like in “Shutter Island” or “The Usual Suspects”, or psychological twists like in “Number 23”, “A Beautiful Mind”, or “Fight Club”. And let’s not forget films featuring con-men like “Focus”, “Dirty Rotten Scoundrels”, “Shade”, “Matchstick Men”, or the classic film, “The Sting”. Each of them sport an amazing and unexpected conclusion.
 There is something simply beautiful about a well-written story, filled with foreshadowing that never seems to be noticed until you read or watch it a second time. Clues are hidden, not just in plain sight, but also between the lines, and our assumptions and previous knowledge shape our limited perspective of the story each time we experience it. 
 I think the best books are the ones that leave you wanting to read them again and again. Each time you journey through the pages, you experience something new. This is why I selected “Read & Reread Books” as the name for my publishing company. I sincerely hope that people are able to enjoy my Broken World Adventures again and again. And maybe… The next time you read it, you might just discover something you hadn’t noticed before.

No one can hurt you quite as much as a close friend.
 I just recently turned fifty and celebrated my birthday, mostly alone, preparing for a Texas ice storm. It wasn’t that my friends and family didn’t want to be with me, but sometimes cold bitter realities take precedence and change our plans.
 At least when the weather prevents us from doing something, we can find comfort in knowing it was beyond our control. But when you discover that a close friend has been lying to you, it’s hard not to blame yourself for not seeing through their deceit. “I should have known better. How could I have fallen for their lies?”
 I suspect that for most people my age, it’s common to have tasted the salty tears of betrayal. Looking back I’ve definitely had more than my fair share of broken friendships. Maybe that explains the foundational theme so prominent in my novels. 
 In Bag of Lies, Michael and Lucky are the best of friends, and for Michael, friendship is everything. However, things quickly unravel when loyalty comes into question. There’s nothing so destructive as a lie between friends.
 Betrayal usually leads to bitterness. But that’s not the purpose of my novels. The betrayals in and of themselves are not the focus. The strength between loyalty and genuine friendship is the true message. What do you do with the hurt of betrayal? How do you trust someone, once that trust is broken? These aren’t easy questions, but they lead to the heart of my books. What about revenge? Can it fix the devastation of a lie? 
 Scripture tells us to turn the other cheek and forgive. Forgiveness… What a powerful response to pain, and yet, so difficult too. What is the secret to abandoning revenge and embracing forgiveness?

Is he a mysterious figure spouting words of wisdom, or a miracle worker with a healing touch? Is he a bumbling fool annoying those around him, or a loyal friend unshaken and true. At times, Marcus is all this and more. He’s vulnerable and genuine, lovable and pure. And as the author who created him, I have to admit… He’s one of my favorites.
 So where did this character come from? And how was he developed? Let’s take a brief look at the character that so many love. Marcus is a sidekick, he just doesn’t know it. He represents that loyal friend that would go to the ends of the earth in times of trouble.  
 When I first started writing Bag of Lies, I knew I needed a character that demonstrated unwavering loyalty. The novel itself revolves around lies and betrayal. This darker theme adds a heavy weight to the nature of the book. So I knew I needed a counter weight to balance the adventure. Marcus is that counter weight. He’s light-hearted, at times child-like, and most importantly, he’s fun. 
 And like his friends, I don’t often call him Marcus. To me, he’s simply… Pudge. Although the nickname was originally a way to tease him behind his back. It slowly became an endearing way to claim him as my friend. I love how Michael respectfully calls him Marcus on the battlefield until something tragic happens. As soon as Michael reaches his side and sees the pain that he is in, Michael no longer sees the fellow soldier, Marcus. Instead he holds Pudge, his close friend, in his arms, desperately trying to keep him alive.
 In Lord of the Rings by J.R.R.Tolkien, Frodo’s gardener and close friend, Samwise Gamgee, follows Frodo all the way to Mount Doom to destroy the one ring. Sam is so much more than a sidekick, at times it feels as though the heart of the story rests just as much with him as with Frodo. Although Pudge doesn’t follow Michael quite as closely through their adventure, he definitely shares Sam’s loyalty. Pudge wouldn’t hesitate to follow Michael to the edge of the new world and beyond. 
 Another influence that might have shaped Pudge slightly, was also a supporting character, this time in a film. The 1985 adventure comedy, Goonies, introduces a fun loving friend who seems to always be exaggerating and telling wild stories. His friends call him Chunk, often teasing him and making him do his famous truffle shuffle. Although Chunk carries a few extra pounds along with a lovable awkwardness, he is a beloved member of the ensemble. 
 A gentle comparison with these two characters and just about any supporting sidekick, definitely reveals a ton of similarities. However, Pudge holds his own on the page as he demonstrates an unwavering loyalty, a steadfast innocence, and a compassionate heart for others. 
 Setting the comparisons to the wayside, Pudge is simply a good friend. By no means perfect or even an asset in battle, Pudge is the kind of friend you put up with, because deep down inside, you love him. There isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for you or anyone else for that matter.

What’s it all about?

Basking in the sunlight, Charlie didn’t realize it was his last day to stroll the prison yard. His fate was decided months ago. No one thought to explain his pending plight. If they had, he would not have understood it anyway. The simple-minded jailbird never learned to read or write. Most believed he didn’t have the wherewithal to hold a simple conversation. The unrecognizable gibberish that Charlie often mumbled as he tilted his head back and forth confirmed his lack of understanding. The sympathetic faces of those around him would smile and nod their heads as though they knew what he was trying to say, even though they didn’t. 

For Charlie, it was just another lazy afternoon. He had no recollection of the events that brought him there, nor did he care. The warm light radiated from the sky, casting a shadow on the gravel beneath his feet. The clouds danced across the heavens, occasionally providing a spot of shade as the sun hovered over the aging prison. A gentle breeze slowly swept through rusting barbed wire. It was a beautiful day. Too bad it would be his last.

Young Kimberly had stopped by, that very morning, to say her goodbye. Charlie didn’t understand her tears. But the two had a somber visit as she knelt beside him and gazed into his eyes.

“I’m gonna miss you, Charlie,” she whispered. “You don’t deserve this, not at all.”

But Charlie didn’t answer. He only shuddered and gazed back at her, wondering why she seemed so sad and melancholy.

On death row, they say that an inmate’s final day races by at breakneck speeds. It’s a day of contemplation, a day of regret and guilt. But for Charlie, it was just another day, a day to enjoy his simple life of confinement. Perhaps ignorance is the greatest form of bliss.

If Charlie only knew what waited for him at dawn, he wouldn’t have dared closed his eyes that night. He would have siphoned every moment from his last remaining hours. He would have desperately searched for a means of an escape. But none of that was necessary since Charlie didn’t realize… Instead, he was fast asleep, dreaming of a future he would never see.

The early morning rooster split the darkened sky as the executioner slid from his bed. Exhausted, he splashed water on his face and prepared for his busy day.  With so much to do and little to say, he prepped the tools of his trade. Focused on the task at hand, the steady fingers of the executioner sharpened his blade. It wasn’t a matter of being cold-hearted or lacking the sympathy to care. There was a job to be done, and he was responsible to extinguish the flame.

Charlie mumbled and jutted his head to and fro as he entered the darkened doors.  The executioner ready, the blade in his hand, Charlie still ignorant wandered forward. A silence hung in the air.
The reverent man bowed his head to say a prayer, a word of thanks before he did the deed.

“Thank you, Dear Lord, for this glorious bird, and for the feast you now provide.”

With a quick and deliberate swing of the ax, the farmer completed his task. Poor Charlie, now silent, rested in peace as the man collected his prize-winning turkey.

“I’m gonna miss you, Charlie,” the humble man whispered as he carried the bird from the barn.

I am a man with many different hats. I’m speaking figuratively of course. Some of you know me as a painter who transforms original photographs into acrylic hand painted digital art. Others know me as the part time media guy who directs the booth every Sunday morning.  Perhaps I’m that former high school teacher who taught you English or Algebra, or I’m that computer technician that helped fix your computer. Most of you discovered me through this newsletter and an opportunity to read my novelette, Smoke, Fire and Butterflies. But no matter how we met, or how you know me, I’m so very grateful that you take the time each month to read my newsletter. You make this new adventure of self-publishing worthwhile, and I appreciate each and every one of you.

My latest project has me recording the audio book for my novel, Bag of Lies. I hope to finish and release it before the end of the year.  It has been so much fun revisiting the novel as a reader. I have found a new appreciation for the characters and the secrets that are cleverly revealed as the story unfolds. Bag of Lies is an adventure I wish to share with all of you. It is a book that may appear to be a typical Civil War novel, but I assure you it is like nothing you have read before. I wish I could say more, but doing so would ruin the charm of unraveling the mystery.

Sincerely,
Ricky Dean Wyrick

I’ve always been more of a sprinter than a long-distance runner. Racing out of the gate with only one thought in my head, I must win. The world blurs as the wind brushes across my face and dances through my hair. Locking my eyes on the horizon, I focus on the open field before me and ignore the remaining stragglers who can’t keep up.  There was a time when I was the fastest, when even the loftiest dreams were within my reach. I think sometimes the ignorance of youth keeps us reaching for those dreams. Our inexperience protects us from the fear of failure enabling us to blindly chase the impossible and occasionally catch it.

I’m not sure when it happens, but as we race through this life, through the gauntlet of hurt; the sprint suddenly becomes a marathon. I suppose the hardships of life hit each of us at different times and in different seasons. Inevitably, we become winded and slow our pace. We look back to the dreams we’ve chased, and slowly see the impossible for what it is: something that will never be. It’s easy to look back and see our fruitless pursuits as a waist of our energy and time, but don’t be fooled by that hopeless illusion. Failure is more than a necessity of life; it is the hands that mold us into who we are. Our broken dreams become a part of us; they shape us into who we become.

With each passing year, I find the soft grass beneath my feet further from my gaze, not because I grow taller, but because with each unexpected tumble it becomes more difficult to recover. Pain has become my travel companion; the one friend I can always count on; the friend I can’t avoid. Emotional, physical, exhausting pain bombards me with loss and hurt. I slowly realize that I’m no longer running to win the race set before me; I’m only running to bring my journey to an end. And if I let him, Depression throws his arm over my shoulder and weighs me down.

But failing to chase our dreams is the greatest travesty of all. When we fail to reach for the impossible, we succeed in failing. It is the chasing of dreams that make the journey worthwhile. Whether we realize it or not, we are not alone. A silent brother leads us along the path, often unnoticed.  At times, he’s way out front cheering us on. Sometimes he’s only inches away, reaching out a helping hand. But no matter where you find him, follow his beckon call. Throw your open arms around him and let Hope carry you all the way in, because your success rests in the hope of never giving up. Don’t let the hurdles of life keep you from finishing the race, and finishing strong.

Have you ever had a secret burning a hole in your pocket? It’s like hiding a glowing hot ember. Every time someone discovers that I’m an author they always ask me the same question. “So, what’s your book about?”
 
For most authors, it's an easy question to answer, but in my case the answer is more complicated. You see, my novel holds a secret. Actually, it holds many. So merely describing the story requires a moderate degree of deceit. If I were to just come out and tell you what the book is about, it would destroy the adventure — ruin the mystery. The charm of the novel is in unraveling its secrets. 
 
I’ve always been drawn to stories with plot twists. I love an adventure that takes me places that I never expected to go. In fact, most of my favorite books and movies feature shocking endings I never saw coming. As a writer who immerses himself in fiction, I pay close attention to details. When a story takes me by surprise, I almost always revisit it looking for the things I missed. It is so delightful to discover blatant hints that I simply overlooked. 
 
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Agatha Christie were masters at this. They cleverly weaved hidden details into the tapestry of their novels challenging readers to figure out their secrets before they were revealed. Taking their cues from mysteries such as these, many filmmakers have mastered the art of revealing plot twists and grabbing audience's attention.  
 
Of course, it takes more than mystery and surprise to create a great adventure. Memorable characters, suspense, conflict, courage, and hope are just a few of the elements found in a really great novel. But it’s a lot easier to describe those novels when you don’t have to protect the integrity of a secret.
 
So what is my book about? It’s the struggle of four childhood friends separated on opposite sides of the Civil War; a tale of spies filled with deceit and betrayal. It’s an epic adventure littered with secrets and unexpected twists. And, while all of this is entirely true, none of it prepares you for the true adventure that awaits you in Bag of Lies. Nothing is as it seems in this unique Civil War novel. 
 
So, should you decide to pick it up and read it for yourself, there is but one thing that I would ask. Once you discover the secret; once you know what the book is actually about… Keep the secret! Don’t spoil it for others who have yet to discover it. But don’t let them miss out on this delightful adventure either. Simply tell them, “It’s not what you think it is. You just have to read it.” Then smile, because you know the journey that awaits them.

As a young child, I always loved stories, and, I guess, when it comes down to it, I still do. It’s hard to believe that someone like me would ever be a published author.  In fact, looking back at my journey, I’d say it was a miracle.

Dyslexia has always been both a blessing and a curse for me.  Like so many others with learning difficulties, my talents could be found in other areas besides school work. I may have been a horrible speller and a poor reader, but I was a creative thinker and was favored with an innovative view of the magical stories that captured my imagination. Jumbled letters on the page kept me from enjoying the books I would eventually love. Instead, movies, television and audio-books fed my insatiable desire for storytelling.

It was during my ninth grade year that my parents discovered just how much I was struggling. My handwriting was illegible. I was reading at a third grade level and my teachers wondered if I’d ever finish high school.

Pulled from the traditional classroom my tenth grade year, I became a homeschooler. This drastic attempt to save my education was the beginning of a long road to remediation.  My mother deserves most of the credit. She put in long hours discovering ways for me to conquer my learning challenges.

I suppose, for some, miracles are simply handed out to those who pray. But for me, my miracle took a decade of hard work and sacrifice. It wasn’t something I could have done on my own.  I don’t know how many times I reached my breaking point, begging to quit. What I do know is that each and every time my parents were there to encourage and push me forward. I finished my four year English degree in only seven years. Not impressive for the average college student, I must admit. But considering where I started and the adversity I faced getting there, a bachelor’s degree is quite an accomplishment.

Now, I don’t know if it’s true, but they say that 97% of people hoping to write a novel never finish it. What I can tell you for certain is that writing a novel ain’t easy. It’s a marathon that requires patience and perseverance, two qualities that I learned fighting my way through college.

When you think about it, there is a hint of irony hidden in my accomplishment. The very hurdle that separated me from success in school has taught me how to succeed as a writer. The key is to never give up! When things get hard and the journey seems hopeless, the only path to winning is perseverance.  So pick yourself up, refocus on the goal in front of you and keep moving forward.

I’m not done, not by a long shot. I still have several novels in me. And now that I have people eagerly waiting to see what happens in my next book, I’ve got to get busy writing the sequel.

Thank you all for joining me on this journey. I appreciate each and every one of you. And thank you for taking the time to read my books. I hope that my interesting characters and unexpected twists have swept you away on an adventure you won’t soon forget.

Ricky Dean Wyrick