Rosalind Franklin

Rosalind Franklin established her competitiveness early in life. She donned the uncomfortable mantle of competition in a male-dominated field at age sixteen when she chose to take more difficult areas of scientific courses usually spurned by other girls. By twenty-five submitted her Ph.D. thesis on a noticeably non-feminine topic – how holes in coal are affected by heat. After finishing her doctoral work, she enjoyed an idyllic four-year stint in Paris, where she gained expertise in the new field of crystallography.

Having always planned to return to London, she applied for a position at the biophysics lab at King’s College in 1951 to investigate the structure of biological fibers of interest, which we now know to be DNA. Working with congenial and cultured colleagues in Paris while living in a garret contrasted starkly with the “intellectually mediocre” colleagues and the cellar lab built around a bomb crater from the war she experienced at King’s College. In addition, she was expected to share the project with a deputy director she despised and had no respect for. Being female in a male field necessitated Franklin’s caution when asserting new data. Her theories had to be flawless or she risked never being taken seriously.

Were her angry rejections, “brusque combativeness” and other behaviors notable because she was a woman? Watson implied to Rosalind that she was incompetent at interpreting her own X-rays; why are we surprised that she reacted in anger? Would a male in the same situation even been questioned on this point, much less openly insulted? The question of cultural differences also rears its head. Was this intelligent and opinionated Jewess a threat to the English and American men who rarely had occasion to work with a woman on a peer basis, much less a woman of a distinctly different culture where woman are encouraged to speak freely? Culturally in the post-World War II period, men tolerated women in the workforce only because of the role they’d played during the war. Women were not accepted as equals.

It seems evident that Wilkins shared the Nobel Prize – not for any scientific contribution made, but for both his role as a go-between for the Cambridge and London labs and his “Y” chromosome.

In a final coup de’gras, genetics betrayed her once more when ovarian cancer ended her life at age thirty-eight.

The Sugar Blues

Sometimes the universe hands me a story. It's like some unearthly writer hung around and mugged my Muse. The words pour forth -- my fingers merely a conduit to the story being offered. Such is the history of The Sugar Blues, now being workshopped on Zoetrope.

So far, I've read some really kind words from reviewers:

Dang - that was told real well. Loved it as much as the Sally Ann loved sweets. Can I have another one? I liked the flavor of every scene - I could taste Momma's baking and smelled every smell stuck to your words. On the ol' 1 to 10 scale - you went over the top.
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This story crackles like a lemon stick. It's tart and sweet, beautifully written.

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Ginger, you just might have the next "To Kill a Mockingbird" in your fingers.
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I really love your story. It is full of many favorable pictures, and very intense. I haven't read one like this in a long time. It has a vintage southern touch to it... The best part for me would be the ending. I never seen it coming.
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This is REALLy fine stuff...A most excellent bit of work. Someday I hope to write like that!

The Secret of My Success

Well, my shortlived malaise is over and I've been very productive this past week. I've written over 10,000 words that I'm mostly satisfied with since Monday. I've found another two dozen or so submission places, and read a dozen or so helpful articles.

I'm constantly amazed at how supportive the writing community is. No wonder the energy continues to build.

I've submitted some of my photography for publication in a couple of mags.

Here's a peek into something I wrote. Mostly I've been working on my fiction but this is a quick 400-word nonfiction/essay piece:

The Secret of My Success

Fellow writers are often stunned when they discover I had twenty-four acceptances in five months -- my first five months. I agree; it sounds too good to be true. Am I some writer savant? I wish I were. No, I’m a decent writer with a recipe I‘m willing to share.

First of all, I started writing forty years ago. I scribbled angst-y poetry before I eased into silly, humorous nonfiction. Personal foibles made ideal writing fodder. I figured if my friends enjoyed my zany tales, I could write the stories and share them with even more people. I wandered around Yahoo for a month or so until I found, then joined an online writers group. Supportive and generous, the other members gently guided me along the rocky writers’ trail.

I learned how to do online research and accumulated lists of online publications. More research went into reading print and online pubs. I discerned what they were looking for and sorted each publication by category. Using a multitude of free-for-the-asking writers’ tools to improve my work. I wrote, rewrote, revised, re-revised, tossed out, gritted my teeth and recreated until I had a piece I felt was pub-ready. With a whispered prayer, I hit the send icon in my e-mail program.

The first acceptance letter soon arrived. Before long, the corresponding payment arrived. That buoyed my spirits enough to submit a second story. I had a 50% acceptance rate for my first ten acceptances. Realizing I wasn’t the next Hemingway, I took time to study why my success rate was so high. I concluded the time invested in studying the markets was as much a factor in my success as my writing ability.
I continue to study my craft, via computer, and my skills improve accordingly.

Online writings groups are an invaluable resource. Medical problems make attending “live” classes inconvenient. I see a marked improvement in my writing since that first acceptance in October; in fact, I cringe when I read over my first few submissions. I’ve decided that’s a good sign. It means I’m improving.

Investing time in researching the market(s) may appear to take precious time away from writing. I believe it’s an illusion. You might bake the best cookies anyone’s ever eaten but if you try selling them to folks who only buy carrots, I bet you’ll end up with boxes of cookies in your garage. Do your research. You’ll sell more cookies.
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Take time this week to treat your inner child. Try a new food. Stretch your horizons and make room for new experiences. Your soul will thank you. -- GHC

Go read, muse, and vote, for storySouth's Million Writer Award for Best Story of 2004! And while you're at it, read my Taking Grandma Home. Of all the stories I ever told, it's my very favorite -- and the danged thing's TRUE!

UC Tower2 

This is a powerful image. Sorry it shows so tiny on the blog. :-(