Haven't updated in a while, but August was a busy month for me due to moving, and September has been busy as well with both post-move stuff as well as work.
Writing has been spotty in the meantime. I haven't gotten any new work done on my novel-in-progress, but I have been poking at some short stories and getting them to come to life. While I don't have any specifics to announce just yet, it's looking like there should be a few more of my stories in print by the end of this year and early next year, which is exciting. The feeling of knowing that someone likes your work enough to spend the effort to give it physical form never really lessens even after it's happened a few times It's very self-affirming (and it keeps me from succeeding in convincing myself that my writing isn't worth the time I try to spend on it).
Right now, I'm debating whether I want to try to crank out another short story or two before tackling another chapter of my novel or not. I know that, in the meantime, other pieces of mine are going to require editing, so whatever I start will likely get interrupted anyway. I suppose I just need to put my feelers out inside of my mind so that I can see what I have the best "feel" for.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Friday, August 01, 2008
Emotional Wrangling
I was talking to one of my fellow writers earlier today, and in a discussion about one of his stories, he apologized for being "manipulative" in a particularly emotion-driven scene.
Now, I suppose it could be debated whether or not it's actually manipulative to do something specifically to get an emotional reaction out of a reader. On some level, I think that's pretty much the writer's job: after all, why do people read stories at all, if not to experience some sort of emotion, be it sadness or joy or terror or even a cheap thrill?
Of course, I do think that it's possible for the writer can pull a cheap shot for no real reason other than to get a reaction that might otherwise be unwarranted, and nine times out of ten I'd probably oppose that. There are times when even that can work, though, I think (a certain character death in the second season of Buffy springs to mind). Like everything else a writer does, though, one just needs to be careful with it, I suppose.
On the whole, though, I think that the entire premise of writing "fiction" is that we take situations that need to be carefully massaged so that they can be masked as something that would actually happen. That's pretty tricky in and of itself. But in the end, the goal is still to convince the reader that what they're reading is real, and to instill an emotional response based on events and actions and people who aren't actually real.
Is that manipulative? Maybe on some level, I suppose. Perhaps one of the bigger tricks in writing is to also mask the manipulative moments so that those aren't obvious, either.
(And I still maintain that the scene in question that started this thread of thought wasn't manipulative. Or, if it was, no more than the situation demanded of it. :3 )
Now, I suppose it could be debated whether or not it's actually manipulative to do something specifically to get an emotional reaction out of a reader. On some level, I think that's pretty much the writer's job: after all, why do people read stories at all, if not to experience some sort of emotion, be it sadness or joy or terror or even a cheap thrill?
Of course, I do think that it's possible for the writer can pull a cheap shot for no real reason other than to get a reaction that might otherwise be unwarranted, and nine times out of ten I'd probably oppose that. There are times when even that can work, though, I think (a certain character death in the second season of Buffy springs to mind). Like everything else a writer does, though, one just needs to be careful with it, I suppose.
On the whole, though, I think that the entire premise of writing "fiction" is that we take situations that need to be carefully massaged so that they can be masked as something that would actually happen. That's pretty tricky in and of itself. But in the end, the goal is still to convince the reader that what they're reading is real, and to instill an emotional response based on events and actions and people who aren't actually real.
Is that manipulative? Maybe on some level, I suppose. Perhaps one of the bigger tricks in writing is to also mask the manipulative moments so that those aren't obvious, either.
(And I still maintain that the scene in question that started this thread of thought wasn't manipulative. Or, if it was, no more than the situation demanded of it. :3 )
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Stroke of Not-Quite-Genius
This morning, on my drive into work, I was thinking about some of the recent work I've done of my novel-in-progress, and I had what was initially a horrifying realization: I'd accidentally introduced a glaring plot error into my most recent chapter.
What had happened, basically, is that the line between what I knew as the writer and what the characters knew had gotten blurred (this is what I get for having been away from the story for so long). So, I mentally kicked myself, and then started thinking about how I could take those bits out and smooth them over so that the error would be repaired.
And then it hit me: what if I used this to my advantage and actually let the characters deal with this information that they weren't supposed to have?
To make a long (and vague) story short, after even just a few minutes of brainstorming, I realized that I could turn this once-error into what's actually (in my opinion) a pretty awesome plot point, and one that propels this section of the story along in a way that, embarrassingly enough, makes more sense than what I'd originally planned.
I'm not sure what to make of that, if only to just let it reassert my assertion that, as a writer, you very often discover the story more than you actively create it.
What had happened, basically, is that the line between what I knew as the writer and what the characters knew had gotten blurred (this is what I get for having been away from the story for so long). So, I mentally kicked myself, and then started thinking about how I could take those bits out and smooth them over so that the error would be repaired.
And then it hit me: what if I used this to my advantage and actually let the characters deal with this information that they weren't supposed to have?
To make a long (and vague) story short, after even just a few minutes of brainstorming, I realized that I could turn this once-error into what's actually (in my opinion) a pretty awesome plot point, and one that propels this section of the story along in a way that, embarrassingly enough, makes more sense than what I'd originally planned.
I'm not sure what to make of that, if only to just let it reassert my assertion that, as a writer, you very often discover the story more than you actively create it.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Swept Up in the Currents of Creativity
I mentioned a few weeks ago that I thought I'd finally gotten past whatever strange block was preventing meaningful progress on my new novel. Over these last few weeks, I've done a pretty good job of staying focused and I'm actively excited to sit down and write more of it (which was decidedly not the case for several months). Even better, the more I write, the more motivated I get, because I see that I am writing, and that makes me happy and excited and more likely to write more. Honestly, the only reason I haven't written even more than what I have in the past month is that I've been too busy to find more time.
Back when I was working on my first draft of Thousand Leaves, I had a similar experience: I was just over halfway through getting the draft on paper, a process which had taken the better part of a year, and then, one evening while I was sitting waiting for a flight at the Burbank Airport, I was struck with this bizarre epiphany that just made the rest of the book make sense inside my head. I hastily and hurriedly scribbled out a series of notes in my little writer's notebook, and I managed to write the second half of the book over the course of the next month.
With my current project, I don't quite have that level of intensity when it comes to getting it all out, but I do know that I can see the end of the story on the horizon, as well as all the plot landmarks along the way. I'll discover the individual details as I make my way through those, and it's a journey I'm excited about taking. (Of course, once that's done, I've got edits and redrafts and rewrites to worry about, but Key Point One is to get the damn story out of my head and onto paper, first.)
The catch to this (and isn't there always a catch?) is that this is all happening while I'm currently also already committed to two short stories for a pair of anthologies. I don't want to kill the momentum I've got going with my novel, but at the same time, there are still other things I need to write.
In all likelihood, I'll probably finish up the current chapter I'm working on, and then take a break to write at least one of those stories (ideally, the one that has the earlier deadline). Besides, I don't want to burn out on the novel, either, and with the end in at least semi-feasible sight, I'm not as worried about losing my grip on it a second time.
Back when I was working on my first draft of Thousand Leaves, I had a similar experience: I was just over halfway through getting the draft on paper, a process which had taken the better part of a year, and then, one evening while I was sitting waiting for a flight at the Burbank Airport, I was struck with this bizarre epiphany that just made the rest of the book make sense inside my head. I hastily and hurriedly scribbled out a series of notes in my little writer's notebook, and I managed to write the second half of the book over the course of the next month.
With my current project, I don't quite have that level of intensity when it comes to getting it all out, but I do know that I can see the end of the story on the horizon, as well as all the plot landmarks along the way. I'll discover the individual details as I make my way through those, and it's a journey I'm excited about taking. (Of course, once that's done, I've got edits and redrafts and rewrites to worry about, but Key Point One is to get the damn story out of my head and onto paper, first.)
The catch to this (and isn't there always a catch?) is that this is all happening while I'm currently also already committed to two short stories for a pair of anthologies. I don't want to kill the momentum I've got going with my novel, but at the same time, there are still other things I need to write.
In all likelihood, I'll probably finish up the current chapter I'm working on, and then take a break to write at least one of those stories (ideally, the one that has the earlier deadline). Besides, I don't want to burn out on the novel, either, and with the end in at least semi-feasible sight, I'm not as worried about losing my grip on it a second time.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Prescriptive Descriptions
A friend of mine once had a discussion with me about what one can and can't get away with it modern writing. Not in the sense of writing "rules" of style or syntax or that sort of thing, but just in terms of what readers are willing to put up with, as it were.
The example he cited was an eight-page description of a kangaroo. Now, back in the 1800s or so, when people didn't have things like television or photo guides or the Internet, an eight-page description of a kangaroo was probably a fascinating thing.
Nowadays, though, your average person knows what a kangaroo looks like, even if they've never been within a few thousand miles of Australia. We modern day folk have a mental picture in our heads of what a kangaroo looks like, and it's doubtful that any of us would want to read on for eight pages of exacting detail of something we already know.
Describing things can be a tricky thing in writing, anyway; I already know that I tend to err on the side of less description when it comes to my own work. Depending on one's style, the balance between description and narration can, in some cases, be a tricky one to strike.
What can be trickier, though, is when you need to describe something in a way that requires you to not rely on real-world knowledge that the reader already has.
I tend to write in a pretty tight third-person limited point of view, and that's how I'm also writing my current novel(-in-progress). The story doesn't take place in the real world, though, so if (just for example) I wanted to talk about how big a particular city was, I can't just compare it to L.A. or Paris, because with the tightness of the narration, even though the text itself is directed at the reader, the character perspective can't 'think' in those terms. This opens some unique challenges in making sure that you're able to convey something easily to the reader without being able to make use of knowledge even if you know the reader already has it.
In the chapter I'm in the middle of writing, I got to (or is that 'had to'?) spend a few pages describing the details of both an architectural style as well as a type of cuisine that we do actually have in the real world, but which are completely alien to the characters encountering them. Writing about that was actually a whole lot of fun, and I found it to be a gratifying and inspiring challenge. It would have been far easier to just gloss over things, but that wouldn't have been fair to reader and it wouldn't have been as honest to the narration, and in the end, I think I've got a better chapter for it.
So, yes, I'm not writing eight-page descriptions of kangaroos (readers of my books, especially, most assuredly know what kangaroos look like), but I am getting to stretch my literary fingers by showcasing something that might ordinarily be unspectacular in a spectacular light.
The example he cited was an eight-page description of a kangaroo. Now, back in the 1800s or so, when people didn't have things like television or photo guides or the Internet, an eight-page description of a kangaroo was probably a fascinating thing.
Nowadays, though, your average person knows what a kangaroo looks like, even if they've never been within a few thousand miles of Australia. We modern day folk have a mental picture in our heads of what a kangaroo looks like, and it's doubtful that any of us would want to read on for eight pages of exacting detail of something we already know.
Describing things can be a tricky thing in writing, anyway; I already know that I tend to err on the side of less description when it comes to my own work. Depending on one's style, the balance between description and narration can, in some cases, be a tricky one to strike.
What can be trickier, though, is when you need to describe something in a way that requires you to not rely on real-world knowledge that the reader already has.
I tend to write in a pretty tight third-person limited point of view, and that's how I'm also writing my current novel(-in-progress). The story doesn't take place in the real world, though, so if (just for example) I wanted to talk about how big a particular city was, I can't just compare it to L.A. or Paris, because with the tightness of the narration, even though the text itself is directed at the reader, the character perspective can't 'think' in those terms. This opens some unique challenges in making sure that you're able to convey something easily to the reader without being able to make use of knowledge even if you know the reader already has it.
In the chapter I'm in the middle of writing, I got to (or is that 'had to'?) spend a few pages describing the details of both an architectural style as well as a type of cuisine that we do actually have in the real world, but which are completely alien to the characters encountering them. Writing about that was actually a whole lot of fun, and I found it to be a gratifying and inspiring challenge. It would have been far easier to just gloss over things, but that wouldn't have been fair to reader and it wouldn't have been as honest to the narration, and in the end, I think I've got a better chapter for it.
So, yes, I'm not writing eight-page descriptions of kangaroos (readers of my books, especially, most assuredly know what kangaroos look like), but I am getting to stretch my literary fingers by showcasing something that might ordinarily be unspectacular in a spectacular light.
Monday, July 07, 2008
My Writing Journal
Back in May, I started keeping a little writing journal. Not a journal that I use for writing, but rather, I journal I keep that keeps track of my writing.
Essentially, on days that I write (or, if I happen to forget to update it, after a couple of days of writing), I just make a short entry that goes over what piece or pieces I might have worked on and how I felt about the project(s) in question. I'll also make notes if there's something I should be working on that I haven't gotten around to (yet or recently).
Mostly, I guess I'm using it to keep track of myself, making sure that I'm writing as much as I might like, and checking to see if the time I do write are productive and/or enjoyable. In a way, I suppose it's like one of those journals that dieters keep in order to keep themselves motivated.
We'll see how it works, in the long term.
Essentially, on days that I write (or, if I happen to forget to update it, after a couple of days of writing), I just make a short entry that goes over what piece or pieces I might have worked on and how I felt about the project(s) in question. I'll also make notes if there's something I should be working on that I haven't gotten around to (yet or recently).
Mostly, I guess I'm using it to keep track of myself, making sure that I'm writing as much as I might like, and checking to see if the time I do write are productive and/or enjoyable. In a way, I suppose it's like one of those journals that dieters keep in order to keep themselves motivated.
We'll see how it works, in the long term.
Friday, July 04, 2008
Reviews for Thousand Leaves
It's only been a week, but already, I've got my first two actual reviews for Thousand Leaves! For an initial review buzz, they're both quite positive, and that makes me really happy.
Tim Susman has a review on his blog, and there's another review by a fellow on LiveJournal that's been posted over here.
They both offer different insights about the book and the writing itself, which is good (especially for me) in that people aren't all just saying the same thing. Also, they both get into specifics in terms of feedback and critique, which I really appreciate, since it's those specifics that help me learn what I do wrong and what I do right.
Tim Susman has a review on his blog, and there's another review by a fellow on LiveJournal that's been posted over here.
They both offer different insights about the book and the writing itself, which is good (especially for me) in that people aren't all just saying the same thing. Also, they both get into specifics in terms of feedback and critique, which I really appreciate, since it's those specifics that help me learn what I do wrong and what I do right.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Novel Milestones
This past Friday, my debut novel, Thousand Leaves, finally went on sale. The following day, I got to do an actual book signing. From what I heard and from what I saw, the book sold pretty well for its opening weekend, too--I wasn't nearly as concerned about that beforehand (I was just thrilled that the book was out, really), but now that I know that that's how it went down, I won't deny that I'm feeling a certain amount of glee.
So yeah, now I... have a book. It's still kind of weird to think about. I've already seen one review that someone wrote, and I'm wondering if, down the line, people might start sending emails and whatnot telling me what they think.
I'm finally past the crest of a big emotional wave, though, and I think I'm finally starting to settle. This is fait accompli, now; nothing can take this away from me.
What is not yet behind me, of course, is my second novel, the one I'm working on now and the one I mentioned where I felt I might be close to having an epiphany. I think I have. For the first time in the better part of a year, I'm excited to work on it. Something must have "clicked" in my head, because the words are finally flowing, for once.
I really hope I can keep this up. Hell, I did it once before; I should be able to do it again, by that logic.
So yeah, now I... have a book. It's still kind of weird to think about. I've already seen one review that someone wrote, and I'm wondering if, down the line, people might start sending emails and whatnot telling me what they think.
I'm finally past the crest of a big emotional wave, though, and I think I'm finally starting to settle. This is fait accompli, now; nothing can take this away from me.
What is not yet behind me, of course, is my second novel, the one I'm working on now and the one I mentioned where I felt I might be close to having an epiphany. I think I have. For the first time in the better part of a year, I'm excited to work on it. Something must have "clicked" in my head, because the words are finally flowing, for once.
I really hope I can keep this up. Hell, I did it once before; I should be able to do it again, by that logic.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Closer
I think (or possibly I merely hope) that I'm getting close to an epiphany regarding the novel I'm working on right now.
It's a fundamentally different story than Thousand Leaves, and I guess that, in a lot of ways, I'll never be able to shake the fear that "it won't be as good." That being said, despite being written by the same person and being set in the same world, comparing the two is close to comparing apples and oranges.
My fellow writer Tim has given me some good advice regarding my own writing style, in that I usually include a bit of levity in my writing, even when the story itself gets serious or even dreary; in this current novel, I don't have anything like that, which might explain part of why I have a hard time connecting with it.
Whether or not that's directly related to my current brain clog, I'm not sure. I do get the sense that I'm near a breakthrough, though. My fingers remain cautiously crossed.
It's a fundamentally different story than Thousand Leaves, and I guess that, in a lot of ways, I'll never be able to shake the fear that "it won't be as good." That being said, despite being written by the same person and being set in the same world, comparing the two is close to comparing apples and oranges.
My fellow writer Tim has given me some good advice regarding my own writing style, in that I usually include a bit of levity in my writing, even when the story itself gets serious or even dreary; in this current novel, I don't have anything like that, which might explain part of why I have a hard time connecting with it.
Whether or not that's directly related to my current brain clog, I'm not sure. I do get the sense that I'm near a breakthrough, though. My fingers remain cautiously crossed.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Godspeed
Over the weekend, I gave my official buyoff to (what should be!) the final proof for Thousand Leaves.
So, this is it. If all goes well, the book will be ready to go on sale as planned at the end of July.
It's kind of trippy that this is all finally coming together. It's been a long road to get to this point, and I'm almost at the end of it.
So, this is it. If all goes well, the book will be ready to go on sale as planned at the end of July.
It's kind of trippy that this is all finally coming together. It's been a long road to get to this point, and I'm almost at the end of it.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Bookery
I know I said that I'd be posting more often, lately, to get back into the swing of things, and I'm sorry I haven't been keeping up on that.
The final few steps involving Thousand Leaves are going on right now. I think I have gotten all but the last few pieces my personal input into the process, with a few remaining bits that I'll do tonight. After that, though, the book itself is very quite nearly done.
I've got a cover. I've got interior art. I've got my dedication page and my author bio; I've been through the manuscript and have done some last-minute editing changes for layout purposes, consistency, and adding some clever little hints that allude to my second novel, the one I'm currently still afraid to work on.
In just over two months, it'll be a book for real, and I'm scared and excited to know that.
The final few steps involving Thousand Leaves are going on right now. I think I have gotten all but the last few pieces my personal input into the process, with a few remaining bits that I'll do tonight. After that, though, the book itself is very quite nearly done.
I've got a cover. I've got interior art. I've got my dedication page and my author bio; I've been through the manuscript and have done some last-minute editing changes for layout purposes, consistency, and adding some clever little hints that allude to my second novel, the one I'm currently still afraid to work on.
In just over two months, it'll be a book for real, and I'm scared and excited to know that.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Dusting Things Off
Okay, so it's been over half a year since I bothered to post here. I'll confess that part of that has to do with the fact that I'm not sure how many people even read this thing, and another part of it is simply that I've been some combination of busy or lazy.
I am, however, still writing!
Tonight is the last class meeting for the most recent writing class I've been taking with my partner-in-crime, Tim. We do a lot of our writing together, and we're always bouncing our respective ideas off each other. Mostly, we take our classes together (well, I've taken all of my classes with him, though he's taken others without me). This most recent class was something of a mixed bag; I'm not sure I learned as much from it as I would've liked, and there was a lot of work to put into it, to boot, so I'm mostly relieved that it's over, more than anything else. Really, I think one of the most valuable things I learned from it was that if I was able to scrounge up the time during the week to workshop and review the stories we read, then I can scrounge up time to write during the week, too.
Work on my novel had been put on hiatus while I'd been busy with class. It's still very daunting to think about, and I might continue to take some time away from it. When I think about the story, I know I still believe in it, but I worry about my ability to tell it, still.
The good thing is that I've been cranking out short stories again, finally. Normally, I only finagle a handful of them a year, lately, but my spark seems to have come back, whether as a side-effect of frustration or just plain determination. As I mentioned above, I know that I can find the time, so it's just a matter of making it.
Part of keeping myself motivated should, in theory, involve my regularly keeping up this writing blog. Hopefully I can keep myself to that.
I am, however, still writing!
Tonight is the last class meeting for the most recent writing class I've been taking with my partner-in-crime, Tim. We do a lot of our writing together, and we're always bouncing our respective ideas off each other. Mostly, we take our classes together (well, I've taken all of my classes with him, though he's taken others without me). This most recent class was something of a mixed bag; I'm not sure I learned as much from it as I would've liked, and there was a lot of work to put into it, to boot, so I'm mostly relieved that it's over, more than anything else. Really, I think one of the most valuable things I learned from it was that if I was able to scrounge up the time during the week to workshop and review the stories we read, then I can scrounge up time to write during the week, too.
Work on my novel had been put on hiatus while I'd been busy with class. It's still very daunting to think about, and I might continue to take some time away from it. When I think about the story, I know I still believe in it, but I worry about my ability to tell it, still.
The good thing is that I've been cranking out short stories again, finally. Normally, I only finagle a handful of them a year, lately, but my spark seems to have come back, whether as a side-effect of frustration or just plain determination. As I mentioned above, I know that I can find the time, so it's just a matter of making it.
Part of keeping myself motivated should, in theory, involve my regularly keeping up this writing blog. Hopefully I can keep myself to that.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Style or Substance?
As I've mentioned a couple of times in this blog already, I'm struggling with my second novel right now. The more I write, the harder it gets to write. You'd figure that once the words got flowing, it would get easier, but instead, it's getting more difficult, and that confuses me as much as it frustrates and disheartens me.
One of the things that makes this story a departure for me is that the focal point stays with a single character. All of my other longer works (namely, my first novel and my serial-installment short stories) jump around from character to character, in an 'ensemble cast' sort of way. I'm admittedly a fan of TV shows that follow that sort of format, where there's no single "main character," but honestly, that's just kind of the way I've written longer pieces for a while (my multiple aborted attempts at a first novel back in the day even followed that structure).
Yesterday, during one of my many, many sessions of pondering how to get my novel to work better, I began to wonder if the story wouldn't be better told if the point of view alternated between the two main characters instead of just sticking with the one. It would certainly give me more room to flesh some characterization out, and it would also let me throw in some different perspective.
Then I had to stop and wonder whether the inclination to do that wasn't so much due to the fact that the story would be better told that way as much it was just a sign that I'm not comfortable and not experienced enough at writing longer stories from a single viewpoint. I'm left second-guessing whether my story needs to be tweaked to fit a different narrative style, or whether I'm simply not capable, at my current level of skill, of telling the story the way it should be told.
I'm still not sure which it is.
One of the things that makes this story a departure for me is that the focal point stays with a single character. All of my other longer works (namely, my first novel and my serial-installment short stories) jump around from character to character, in an 'ensemble cast' sort of way. I'm admittedly a fan of TV shows that follow that sort of format, where there's no single "main character," but honestly, that's just kind of the way I've written longer pieces for a while (my multiple aborted attempts at a first novel back in the day even followed that structure).
Yesterday, during one of my many, many sessions of pondering how to get my novel to work better, I began to wonder if the story wouldn't be better told if the point of view alternated between the two main characters instead of just sticking with the one. It would certainly give me more room to flesh some characterization out, and it would also let me throw in some different perspective.
Then I had to stop and wonder whether the inclination to do that wasn't so much due to the fact that the story would be better told that way as much it was just a sign that I'm not comfortable and not experienced enough at writing longer stories from a single viewpoint. I'm left second-guessing whether my story needs to be tweaked to fit a different narrative style, or whether I'm simply not capable, at my current level of skill, of telling the story the way it should be told.
I'm still not sure which it is.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Writing Meme
Taken from Tim Susman, transitively taken from Kelly McCullough at Wyrdsmiths.
What do you find _______ about writing?
Hardest? Continuing to write when I don't feel like the words are coming out exactly how I want them to. I try very hard to just write through the tough spots, but I tend to niggle. Excessively.
Easiest? Finding ideas for things to write. At any given moment, there are always a number of story ideas floating around, many of which I know I'll never even get to.
Most fun? Being surprised by the turn of events of a story I myself came up with. Oftentimes, I'll have an idea, but when it ends up on paper, things go differently than even I imagined, and it's a neat sensation when my own stories catch me off guard.
Most Tedious? Waiting the requisite amount of time to go back and look at a story with an objective eye in order to make changes. When I get a story out of my head and onto the page, I kind of want to hold it close like a baby, and I have to force myself to give it space, first and foremost.
Coolest? Knowing that I can write things that other people actively want to read.
Least cool? The fact that writing takes so much time, energy, effort and passion, and that so few people seem to realize that. Sometimes it's easy to feel jaded at being unappreciated.
Best? Knowing that a stray or silly idea can pop into my head at any point, and that someday done the line, someone else might get the chance to read and enjoy the tale that it could grow into.
Worst? The unfinished stories that I know, in my heart, I'll never go back to and finish. I think about them sometimes, and feel sad and even a bit guilty that those stories will never finish being told.
Join in below, or comment with a link to your own post...
What do you find _______ about writing?
Hardest? Continuing to write when I don't feel like the words are coming out exactly how I want them to. I try very hard to just write through the tough spots, but I tend to niggle. Excessively.
Easiest? Finding ideas for things to write. At any given moment, there are always a number of story ideas floating around, many of which I know I'll never even get to.
Most fun? Being surprised by the turn of events of a story I myself came up with. Oftentimes, I'll have an idea, but when it ends up on paper, things go differently than even I imagined, and it's a neat sensation when my own stories catch me off guard.
Most Tedious? Waiting the requisite amount of time to go back and look at a story with an objective eye in order to make changes. When I get a story out of my head and onto the page, I kind of want to hold it close like a baby, and I have to force myself to give it space, first and foremost.
Coolest? Knowing that I can write things that other people actively want to read.
Least cool? The fact that writing takes so much time, energy, effort and passion, and that so few people seem to realize that. Sometimes it's easy to feel jaded at being unappreciated.
Best? Knowing that a stray or silly idea can pop into my head at any point, and that someday done the line, someone else might get the chance to read and enjoy the tale that it could grow into.
Worst? The unfinished stories that I know, in my heart, I'll never go back to and finish. I think about them sometimes, and feel sad and even a bit guilty that those stories will never finish being told.
Join in below, or comment with a link to your own post...
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
The Errant Captive Audience
Malin wrote an entry in his blog about writing for your audience. I think he makes a lot of good points, and I take a lot of that to heart, since I, too, write for what is a niche of a niche audience.
Thinking about this over the last several days, though, I'm finding myself increasingly more distraught about the reality of writing in general, and also in writing furry fiction.
Having writing as a hobby is like a two-edged sword: by definition, you need to set yourself apart from other people in order to make good on it, but people like writers. Or, at least, they profess to like writers and they claim an interest in writing. That's kind of one my sorest spots, actually.
See, when you're a writer, your friends always say stuff along the lines of, "Oh, you're a writer? That's so cool. I've love to see your stuff sometime." Except they... don't. Most of the time, your friends, even your good friends, don't actually want to read the things you've written. I've lost track of the number of times that I've specifically sent or even handed a story of mine to someone after they'd asked to read it, only to come back to them months later to find that, surprise surprise, they never bothered to.
It's extra-frustrating when you've got an pseudonym under which you write erotica. In that same period of time where you might've been hoping to have Friend A read the story you'd given for them specifically to read, you'll post an adult story online without even bringing it to their attention, but of course, they'll have read that story without being prompted, regardless of whether or not they knew said pseudonym belonged to you.
Write for your audience. That's what I'm trying to do. Furries normally latch on to anything furry with a fervor that's rarely seen elsewhere--give a TV show or a movie the faintest hint of anthropomorphics and you'll have furries lining up outside the door for a shot of Van Helsing as a sexy werewolf or to see the cat-shaped aliens or whatever. When it's the written word, though, it's like it doesn't matter what you write if you forget to include a scene where a fox gets a dick in his mouth.
I don't mean to sound like I'm griping pointlessly, but that's what I see. I see the furry fandom, pretty much the only audience anywhere who would ever want to read furry stuff, and even they don't want to read it.
So then, I look at the stuff I'm writing, and I feel self-conscious about it already in terms of content and quality, and I get to thinking, "If I pour my heart and soul into this to make it better, who the hell is even going to care?"
I am passionate about my writing. It's the thing I want to do with my life. I put so much time and effort and emotion into what I do because I have these stories I want to tell, and in the end, I have nobody to listen. I have to wonder if it's worth taking the years it takes to write and rewrite and polish and pitch and publish a novel that will fall by the wayside because it's not about animal-people having sex.
I'm usually more optimistic than this. But I'm writing for my audience, and it's an audience that I can see, and I'm writing directly at them, and they can't even see that they're being hit.
It's distressing. I don't want to give up. I don't want to not care. But I can't just write into the void. A storyteller can't sit in front of the fireplace and tell his story to an empty room.
So what do I do?
Thinking about this over the last several days, though, I'm finding myself increasingly more distraught about the reality of writing in general, and also in writing furry fiction.
Having writing as a hobby is like a two-edged sword: by definition, you need to set yourself apart from other people in order to make good on it, but people like writers. Or, at least, they profess to like writers and they claim an interest in writing. That's kind of one my sorest spots, actually.
See, when you're a writer, your friends always say stuff along the lines of, "Oh, you're a writer? That's so cool. I've love to see your stuff sometime." Except they... don't. Most of the time, your friends, even your good friends, don't actually want to read the things you've written. I've lost track of the number of times that I've specifically sent or even handed a story of mine to someone after they'd asked to read it, only to come back to them months later to find that, surprise surprise, they never bothered to.
It's extra-frustrating when you've got an pseudonym under which you write erotica. In that same period of time where you might've been hoping to have Friend A read the story you'd given for them specifically to read, you'll post an adult story online without even bringing it to their attention, but of course, they'll have read that story without being prompted, regardless of whether or not they knew said pseudonym belonged to you.
Write for your audience. That's what I'm trying to do. Furries normally latch on to anything furry with a fervor that's rarely seen elsewhere--give a TV show or a movie the faintest hint of anthropomorphics and you'll have furries lining up outside the door for a shot of Van Helsing as a sexy werewolf or to see the cat-shaped aliens or whatever. When it's the written word, though, it's like it doesn't matter what you write if you forget to include a scene where a fox gets a dick in his mouth.
I don't mean to sound like I'm griping pointlessly, but that's what I see. I see the furry fandom, pretty much the only audience anywhere who would ever want to read furry stuff, and even they don't want to read it.
So then, I look at the stuff I'm writing, and I feel self-conscious about it already in terms of content and quality, and I get to thinking, "If I pour my heart and soul into this to make it better, who the hell is even going to care?"
I am passionate about my writing. It's the thing I want to do with my life. I put so much time and effort and emotion into what I do because I have these stories I want to tell, and in the end, I have nobody to listen. I have to wonder if it's worth taking the years it takes to write and rewrite and polish and pitch and publish a novel that will fall by the wayside because it's not about animal-people having sex.
I'm usually more optimistic than this. But I'm writing for my audience, and it's an audience that I can see, and I'm writing directly at them, and they can't even see that they're being hit.
It's distressing. I don't want to give up. I don't want to not care. But I can't just write into the void. A storyteller can't sit in front of the fireplace and tell his story to an empty room.
So what do I do?
Friday, July 27, 2007
Step One: Identify the Problem
...and think I have.
It occurs to me, now that I'm at a certain point in my novel, that I'm not entirely sure what the details of the next big plot point are.
Like, not the intricate, specific details that fill themselves out during the course of actually writing the scene in which these events occur. I'm talking like, on the whole, I don't know what the next logical step in the plot is or what it entails.
This is a bad sign. I know where the story goes after that, but... well, that's not much help to me in my current position, is it?
It occurs to me, now that I'm at a certain point in my novel, that I'm not entirely sure what the details of the next big plot point are.
Like, not the intricate, specific details that fill themselves out during the course of actually writing the scene in which these events occur. I'm talking like, on the whole, I don't know what the next logical step in the plot is or what it entails.
This is a bad sign. I know where the story goes after that, but... well, that's not much help to me in my current position, is it?
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Getting the Words Out
I've been letting my writing blog collect dust. That's not a good thing. If I stay out of touch with writing about writing, then what does that say about my writing? Actually, what does that say about my logic process?
Well, anyhow, I thought I should blow off the dust and get back to talking about what I'm doing, since if I know that people are looking at me, I'll be less inclined to just sit there like a tool.
I was hitting some snags with writing the novel I'm currently working on. Even when I wasn't stuck trying to figure out what to write, the actual writing was really starting to grind for a while. It's not often that the act of sitting and writing feels like a chore to me, but in this case, it was. I've looked at things and I've tried to figure out why that was, but I can't find a satisfying answer; the immediate problem seems to have resolved itself, though, and so long as it doesn't recur, I guess I don't need to fret too much about the reason.
I took a spring writing class that focused on dialogue. It was technically a screenwriting class, and so I didn't quite get the usual in-class banter that I normally find helpful in writing classes (since I didn't have a lot in common with what other folks were writing), but the instructor himself was extremely helpful and intelligent, and I got a lot of good feedback on what I was doing, if nothing else. One of the things that the instructor liked to stress, though, was the methodology of just getting your shitty first draft onto the page. That's something I can empathize with, since after writing my first novel and redrafting it several times, I've seen how much work goes into changing things, but I can also see how much work is accomplished just by getting the damn story out of the way, first.
So, even while embracing the idea that I just need to write the story even if the draft itself sucks, I was still trudging and plodding through actually writing this new novel over the last few months. It seemed kind of counterintuitive to myself, since I knew I didn't want or even expect it to be any good, and yet even just trying to fling words onto the page that got the general point across wasn't working.
But, like I already said, I seem to have somehow gotten over that, and as long as I stay gotten over it, that's fine by me.
For those curious, this first draft of this new novel is still nowhere near complete: I'm only on Chapter Six after, oh, many, many months of writing. I hope that the same thing that happened with my last novel happens with this one, where I hit the halfway point, stall for a week, and then have the most awesome epiphany ever and even up churning out the second half of the book in a frenzied month of writing bliss. I'm not sure that'll happen here, though, since the story itself is so different, and it just requires a different treatment overall. Maybe it's the "being different" part that's got me all wonky.
In the meantime, I think it'll be helpful to focus on additional, smaller side-projects. That's hard to do when taking a class (and it's what happened when I was writing my old novel last year, too). Now that I'm class-free (wait, is that how I want to phrase that?), I can probably find some time to get some short stories out of my brain on the side, too. Though actually, I do still have close to half a dozen short stories that died on the page from last year, and I'm not sure I have the heart, the mind, or the patience to go back and resurrect any of them, even if one or two of them probably deserve to be finished.
The other thing that should inspire further writing on my behalf is the fact that, earlier this month, I finally got published for legit, for real-reals!
My first story can be found in Sofawolf Press's new anthology, New Fables. I'm actually pretty proud of this story; it takes place in a fantasy world that I've accidentally continued to write in, the same world featured in my story "The Peculiar Quandary of Simon Canopus Artyle". I actually really like writing in this world, and I daresay that I find enough potential in it that I'll almost certainly write more for it.
I've got another story in Bad Dog Books' anthology ROAR, Volume 1. This is a story that takes place in the same world that the novels I keep talking about take place in. It's not directly related to either of them, but I like to think it fleshes out the setting in... well, in an admittedly unusual way. It was very much an experimental piece for me, but in the end, I'm happy enough with it.
Anyhow, that's what's been happening with me and writing, lately. I'll make a point to not let this place decay and go dead like it's been for the last few months.
Well, anyhow, I thought I should blow off the dust and get back to talking about what I'm doing, since if I know that people are looking at me, I'll be less inclined to just sit there like a tool.
I was hitting some snags with writing the novel I'm currently working on. Even when I wasn't stuck trying to figure out what to write, the actual writing was really starting to grind for a while. It's not often that the act of sitting and writing feels like a chore to me, but in this case, it was. I've looked at things and I've tried to figure out why that was, but I can't find a satisfying answer; the immediate problem seems to have resolved itself, though, and so long as it doesn't recur, I guess I don't need to fret too much about the reason.
I took a spring writing class that focused on dialogue. It was technically a screenwriting class, and so I didn't quite get the usual in-class banter that I normally find helpful in writing classes (since I didn't have a lot in common with what other folks were writing), but the instructor himself was extremely helpful and intelligent, and I got a lot of good feedback on what I was doing, if nothing else. One of the things that the instructor liked to stress, though, was the methodology of just getting your shitty first draft onto the page. That's something I can empathize with, since after writing my first novel and redrafting it several times, I've seen how much work goes into changing things, but I can also see how much work is accomplished just by getting the damn story out of the way, first.
So, even while embracing the idea that I just need to write the story even if the draft itself sucks, I was still trudging and plodding through actually writing this new novel over the last few months. It seemed kind of counterintuitive to myself, since I knew I didn't want or even expect it to be any good, and yet even just trying to fling words onto the page that got the general point across wasn't working.
But, like I already said, I seem to have somehow gotten over that, and as long as I stay gotten over it, that's fine by me.
For those curious, this first draft of this new novel is still nowhere near complete: I'm only on Chapter Six after, oh, many, many months of writing. I hope that the same thing that happened with my last novel happens with this one, where I hit the halfway point, stall for a week, and then have the most awesome epiphany ever and even up churning out the second half of the book in a frenzied month of writing bliss. I'm not sure that'll happen here, though, since the story itself is so different, and it just requires a different treatment overall. Maybe it's the "being different" part that's got me all wonky.
In the meantime, I think it'll be helpful to focus on additional, smaller side-projects. That's hard to do when taking a class (and it's what happened when I was writing my old novel last year, too). Now that I'm class-free (wait, is that how I want to phrase that?), I can probably find some time to get some short stories out of my brain on the side, too. Though actually, I do still have close to half a dozen short stories that died on the page from last year, and I'm not sure I have the heart, the mind, or the patience to go back and resurrect any of them, even if one or two of them probably deserve to be finished.
The other thing that should inspire further writing on my behalf is the fact that, earlier this month, I finally got published for legit, for real-reals!
My first story can be found in Sofawolf Press's new anthology, New Fables. I'm actually pretty proud of this story; it takes place in a fantasy world that I've accidentally continued to write in, the same world featured in my story "The Peculiar Quandary of Simon Canopus Artyle". I actually really like writing in this world, and I daresay that I find enough potential in it that I'll almost certainly write more for it.
I've got another story in Bad Dog Books' anthology ROAR, Volume 1. This is a story that takes place in the same world that the novels I keep talking about take place in. It's not directly related to either of them, but I like to think it fleshes out the setting in... well, in an admittedly unusual way. It was very much an experimental piece for me, but in the end, I'm happy enough with it.
Anyhow, that's what's been happening with me and writing, lately. I'll make a point to not let this place decay and go dead like it's been for the last few months.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Beginning Anew
I've begun serious work on a second novel, now. Technically, I started another novel at the end of 2006, but I realized that I wasn't quite ready to write that one just yet, so I put it back on the shelf for the time being. At present, there are no fewer than four distinct ideas for novels in my head, and I wasn't quite sure which one I'd end up writing first; it came as something of a surprise, actually, when I decided to work on the one that I'm now writing.
I find it interesting how so much of what I'm doing feels different and how so much feels the same when I think of what it was like to write my last novel. It's certainly a long, involved, highly daunting process, but despite how timid I might still be about the whole thing, I know from experience that it's a very rewarding one. There's a story in my head, and like most of the stories in my head, I don't know precisely where it came from--I know only that it's asking to be told, and it's my job to channel it. That makes it sound like a chore, but it's not (even though, at times, the process of sitting down to type things out can feel a little bit grueling; usually it's a lot more enjoyable, though).
One of the scariest things about the whole thing, though, is facing an unwritten novel as some kind of Great Unknown. For me, the elements of my stories and the world around them are almost like things that I discover more than things I make up; so, when I'm writing the novel I am now, I need to remind myself that it's okay that I'm not 100% sure where everything is going or how all of the pieces are going to line up. The word I like to use for storytelling that goes smoothly is organic--and I forget, very often, that there was a time when my first novel was only a string of vaguely-connected ideas, and it was up to me to determine how it all went together.
Thinking about that, it's comforting to see the similarities to my current novel and my previous one, here in the planning stages: I have the conflict, I have the characters, I have the setting, a very strong visual image of the climax, and half of the ending. I have a vague idea of what's going on during the middle of the story.
But really, I think that's part of the fun of actually writing a big story like this: I get to find out for myself what happens as I fill in those blanks, and if I'm telling the story correctly, it'll all grow organically into place in order to end up where it needs to.
The other exciting thing about that is that I know that there are events and characters and happenings that are going to surprise me. There are things in store that I'm 100% unaware of, and when I figure out what they are, I will probably squeak with delight as I fervently jot down a note in my notebook or pound out a paragraph on my keyboard. I recall quite clearly the moment of epiphany that I had at Burbank Airport when I was halfway through my last novel and the events of the second half just suddenly fell into place inside my head, and I look forward to that "Eureka!" happening to me again this second time around.
Most importantly, though, I think that I have a fun, engaging, and meaningful story that folks will enjoy reading, and I'll be very happy if I can get all of those words out into a form that other people get to see someday.
I find it interesting how so much of what I'm doing feels different and how so much feels the same when I think of what it was like to write my last novel. It's certainly a long, involved, highly daunting process, but despite how timid I might still be about the whole thing, I know from experience that it's a very rewarding one. There's a story in my head, and like most of the stories in my head, I don't know precisely where it came from--I know only that it's asking to be told, and it's my job to channel it. That makes it sound like a chore, but it's not (even though, at times, the process of sitting down to type things out can feel a little bit grueling; usually it's a lot more enjoyable, though).
One of the scariest things about the whole thing, though, is facing an unwritten novel as some kind of Great Unknown. For me, the elements of my stories and the world around them are almost like things that I discover more than things I make up; so, when I'm writing the novel I am now, I need to remind myself that it's okay that I'm not 100% sure where everything is going or how all of the pieces are going to line up. The word I like to use for storytelling that goes smoothly is organic--and I forget, very often, that there was a time when my first novel was only a string of vaguely-connected ideas, and it was up to me to determine how it all went together.
Thinking about that, it's comforting to see the similarities to my current novel and my previous one, here in the planning stages: I have the conflict, I have the characters, I have the setting, a very strong visual image of the climax, and half of the ending. I have a vague idea of what's going on during the middle of the story.
But really, I think that's part of the fun of actually writing a big story like this: I get to find out for myself what happens as I fill in those blanks, and if I'm telling the story correctly, it'll all grow organically into place in order to end up where it needs to.
The other exciting thing about that is that I know that there are events and characters and happenings that are going to surprise me. There are things in store that I'm 100% unaware of, and when I figure out what they are, I will probably squeak with delight as I fervently jot down a note in my notebook or pound out a paragraph on my keyboard. I recall quite clearly the moment of epiphany that I had at Burbank Airport when I was halfway through my last novel and the events of the second half just suddenly fell into place inside my head, and I look forward to that "Eureka!" happening to me again this second time around.
Most importantly, though, I think that I have a fun, engaging, and meaningful story that folks will enjoy reading, and I'll be very happy if I can get all of those words out into a form that other people get to see someday.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Hard at Work
Well, I'm still definitely writing--although I can't say I'm doing a good job of finishing a lot. I still have a lot of half-finished and just-barely-started projects in hand, and I also put a few more nails in my own coffin by starting up another novel. I'm at least doing better, lately, with forcing myself to sit down and write when the time arises (and in forcing time in my schedule to arise), so hopefully, sometime semi-soon, I'll start putting the finishing touches on some short stories.
Last month, I took a two-week seminar course on how to incorporate tension and conflict into writing, and that was actually incredibly helpful. It's hard not to keep what I learned in mind as I write, which is a good thing. After all, as much as writing might be a talent, it's also a skill, and like any skill, if you want to do it well, you can't let yourself be sloppy. In a way, the more I learn, the harder writing gets, since there's more and more to be consciously aware of while actually in the process, but I think that the writing I end up with turns out better, as a result, and if that's the case, I'm all for it.
On a more specifically-furry note, the 2006 Ursa Major Awards open voting on this coming Saturday, March 10. The nominations are already set, but we don't get to see what's up for voting until then. I'm actually kind of excited about that: I'm eligible for at least, er, one piece, I think, personally, but there are a lot of other great works of furry fiction that I had the pleasure to read last year that I hope get the recognition they deserve. Time will tell!
Last month, I took a two-week seminar course on how to incorporate tension and conflict into writing, and that was actually incredibly helpful. It's hard not to keep what I learned in mind as I write, which is a good thing. After all, as much as writing might be a talent, it's also a skill, and like any skill, if you want to do it well, you can't let yourself be sloppy. In a way, the more I learn, the harder writing gets, since there's more and more to be consciously aware of while actually in the process, but I think that the writing I end up with turns out better, as a result, and if that's the case, I'm all for it.
On a more specifically-furry note, the 2006 Ursa Major Awards open voting on this coming Saturday, March 10. The nominations are already set, but we don't get to see what's up for voting until then. I'm actually kind of excited about that: I'm eligible for at least, er, one piece, I think, personally, but there are a lot of other great works of furry fiction that I had the pleasure to read last year that I hope get the recognition they deserve. Time will tell!
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Summer's Fire
This is a story of mine from a couple of years ago. It's a bit on the gay side, and all, so keep that in mind if you don't (or do!) want to read that sort of thing. It's not explicit or anything, but it may not leave a lot to the imagination, either.
"Summer's Fire"
The idea for this story came into being while listening to Heather Alexander's album A Gypsy's Home, and, in particular, to the song "Gypsy's Fire." I had this wonderful mental image to go with it, and I based the story on getting up to that point.
In the end, I ended up scrapping that scene entirely, which I find amusingly ironic. I also think it's a good sign, though, since it implies to myself that the rest of the story stands on its own merits.
In the end, I ended up scrapping that scene entirely, which I find amusingly ironic. I also think it's a good sign, though, since it implies to myself that the rest of the story stands on its own merits.
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