It's been quite a while since I posted an update on the book, so now it's time.
Let's get the bad news out of the way first: I'm not writing nearly as much as I'd like, partly because my main focus over the past four months has been getting the weight off. That's necessitated more time spent on what I'm eating and naturally more time spent on working out. (I haven't been blogging nearly as much as I'd like, but I do have a backlog of topics - and one of them is about distractions of my own making.) The plan is to get back into it here very soon. Like, now.
The good news is I finished the fourth draft of a 275-page novel. I am now letting someone read it, which is at the same time freakishly scary but also comforting. It's comforting because Wifey is my first beta reader of this revised version, and it's scary because I'm a little worried she may think I'm a deranged lunatic.
Maybe she already thinks that. Yeah. Probably.
See - no worries! If she's still here now, I'm probably okay.
This past round of editing really hammered home to me the slow part of the process. There were many days where I really didn't want to do any editing, but I almost always found that once I actually sat down, opened up my Word file, and started working I would get engrossed in my story.
I see the latter point as a good thing, because I figure if my own story couldn't hold my attention I would be screwed.
I follow a lot of writers on Twitter and had seen the general sentiment that the writing of the story is the easy part. Now, 18 months after I started this process, I can say that yes, absolutely, it's pure truth.
It's funny because when I wrote my first draft I was pretty proud of it. Not just because I'd never done it before, but because I thought it was pretty good. Then I started editing and there were parts where I was like, "What the hell were you thinking?" It's even funnier because those usually came out in scenes I thought were good, and in the scenes I didn't remember as being good I ended up pretty happy with. I have no idea if that means anything or not - just an observation.
I surprised myself with how many major changes the story underwent between drafts one and four. Some characters I planned disappeared. Some new ones came in. The roles and prominence of almost all of them changed. Their relationships changed dramatically. In the end the two versions follow similar arcs , but the details, the meat of a good novel, are very different. It's grittier, edgier than I expected to be, and while it wasn't what I intended that's okay. It's good. It's not perfect, but it's good.
This may be me telling myself what I want to hear, but I think my story stands up to many I read that have been professionally edited and published. Why not me too?
I try to read a decent amount, to get through at least a book a week. I read all sorts of stories, books that are like mine and books that are not. I read a surprising amount of YA fiction (surprising to me anyway), I read thrillers, spy novels, mysteries, dramas, even the occasional romance. They help me develop well-rounded characters and offer possible different spins on what one of my characters my do in a given situation.
It also gives me direction on what I think I want to write.
The world is full of writers who claim to be out to write the Great American Novel, something that will be regarded as a literary work of art. I am not one of those. For me, it's enough if someone picks up my book and is entertained, if it helps them step out of their daily life and makes them feel something, whether that something is fear, excitement, loss, or any other real emotion.
People who set out to write a literary masterpiece, in my opinion, will be disappointed. Why? Because you don't get to decide that. Readers do. Other writers do. The media. Any number of factors are involved, but almost none of them are in my control. All I can do is to the best of my abilities write a story that you can't put down and write characters for which you will feel empathy. But a masterpiece? That's for someone else (or many someones) to decide.
Frankly, those who decide that aren't my target audience.
I get asked every so often what kind of stories I write and I struggle with an answer. It's fiction, yes. But what kind? Thriller? Mystery? I think the best way to describe is action-packed with good character development, sort of like a good action movie. There should be an element of fear, though, times where you genuinely feel for the life of the characters. It's not horror, per se, because for me that implies the supernatural on some level, but I do want to freak the hell out of you. I want to make you uncomfortable (though not like Chuck Palahniuk - not out to make people throw up).
Horror novels rarely scare me. I don't believe in ghosts or vampires or those kinds of supernatural beings, so how can I be scared of them? That doesn't mean I don't enjoy those stories - they just aren't scary.
You know what's scary? The shit you can't make up. Serial killers are scary. The idea of getting wrongly arrested, framed for something you didn't do, and tossed in prison is scary. Buying a lottery ticket and getting stuck in the middle of a robbery with a drug-crazy thug - that's scary. Having a child dart out in front of your car is scary. The general fragility of the human body combined with any number of loose wires in the heads of the general population is scary. Losing the person you love in a freak accident is scary. Losing the person you love because they want to leave? Scarier.
How easy it is to sneak inside someone's house? Super effing scary.
This is my pledge to my readers. You won't get the supernatural in my stories, but I will make you stop and think about how fragile your perception of the world is, and about how life can change in an instant. One moment you could be putting dinner together. The next you could be having to save your life from a junkie with only the paring knife you were using to cut an apple.
Or maybe it's not just a junkie. What then?
My stories resolve around the idea of "What if?" That's my inspiration.
I want my readers, when they finish a story, to ask themselves this: "What would I have done?"
To me, if I can do that, I've accomplished my goals.
(Lest we ignore the elephant in the blog, I won't lie and say selling stories for six figures isn't a goal too. It is. Not likely, but you have to have goals, right?)
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
8/08/2012
12/28/2011
Third Draft Finally Finished
If there is one thing I've learned since I sat down to write a novel, it's the need for patience.
(Notice I said "the need for" and not that I learned patience. Still working on that.)
As I sit here and look at the date on my computer, I can't believe I started this novel a year ago. A freaking year?! Are you kidding me?! No wonder it takes even professional authors so damn long to put out a new book. Here I am toiling through it as a fourth priority (behind family, first job that pays the bills, and second job that also pays) and it's taken me a year to finish three drafts of a single novel.
Oh yes, the third draft is done. And it's better than the one before it, which is really all one can hope for, right?
For me, the third draft was the first real re-writing I had to do. The second draft was more cursory, but the third...a bomb went off in that one.
I completely wrote out one character and greatly minimized two others. I raised the profile of a fourth. The narrative changed, drastically, and it became a couple shades darker. The ending is completely different. My protagonist, for the lack of a better term, grew a pair. This version of the book, I feel, flows better.
Then again, I haven't read through it with a red pen yet - that will be the fourth draft, after the new year. I need some time to breathe, charge the batteries.
But back to the need for patience.
I always want to work on the book, because I want to finish it. I mean, doesn't everyone want to finish what they are working on? To be able to say "I did that"? Sure, but my stark reality is it has to fit into the schedule, and the schedule is pretty packed.
Perhaps I mentioned this before, but I'm not a student of the "write with any fraction of time you have" school. That works for some people, but all it does is frustrate me. Which, of course, leads directly to how it takes a year to get through the third draft of a 71,900 word novel.
Now I can check that step off the list and move on to the next one. Maybe someday someone will even get to read it.
(Notice I said "the need for" and not that I learned patience. Still working on that.)
As I sit here and look at the date on my computer, I can't believe I started this novel a year ago. A freaking year?! Are you kidding me?! No wonder it takes even professional authors so damn long to put out a new book. Here I am toiling through it as a fourth priority (behind family, first job that pays the bills, and second job that also pays) and it's taken me a year to finish three drafts of a single novel.
Oh yes, the third draft is done. And it's better than the one before it, which is really all one can hope for, right?
For me, the third draft was the first real re-writing I had to do. The second draft was more cursory, but the third...a bomb went off in that one.
I completely wrote out one character and greatly minimized two others. I raised the profile of a fourth. The narrative changed, drastically, and it became a couple shades darker. The ending is completely different. My protagonist, for the lack of a better term, grew a pair. This version of the book, I feel, flows better.
Then again, I haven't read through it with a red pen yet - that will be the fourth draft, after the new year. I need some time to breathe, charge the batteries.
But back to the need for patience.
I always want to work on the book, because I want to finish it. I mean, doesn't everyone want to finish what they are working on? To be able to say "I did that"? Sure, but my stark reality is it has to fit into the schedule, and the schedule is pretty packed.
Perhaps I mentioned this before, but I'm not a student of the "write with any fraction of time you have" school. That works for some people, but all it does is frustrate me. Which, of course, leads directly to how it takes a year to get through the third draft of a 71,900 word novel.
Now I can check that step off the list and move on to the next one. Maybe someday someone will even get to read it.
8/26/2011
Ah Yes, the Revision Stage
A few weeks back I was feeling pretty good about my writer self. I had finished the first draft of my novel, read through it and made some changes, and spent a ridiculous amount of money printing out 300 pages.
Then I began a class on novel structure, taught by Lani Diane Rich (author of many books), the same person who taught the Discovery writing class I took earlier this year. The basic synopsis of the class is teaching beginning novelists the ins and outs of a four-act novel with seven anchor scenes, learning how the action builds from one point to the next. If you can remember back to middle school English, it's similar - but more detailed - to the basic graph of a three-act play, with fun terms like "rising action" and "denouement" (Mrs. McCormick would be so pleased I remember those things).
First off, Lani is a terrific teacher and her classes are a lot of fun, but they are also work and she will be completely honest when you share pieces of your work. As she should be - that's exactly what I wanted.
The first thing we shared was our opening scene, which for me is my first chapter. It's about 1,600 words or so, eight or nine pages double spaced in Word. Each person in the class reviewed each of the scenes with specific questions in mind and Lani did the same.
She warned us ahead of time she would be brutal if it called for it, and she was - but in a good way. There were pieces of mine she really liked, and pieces she didn't like. She followed that up with great suggestions on how it could be better, most of which I agreed with. (I should note at this point she also recommended we share the scene with some friends who didn't know what the story was about, and see what they expected from the rest of the book - this was a fantastic, and revealing, exercise.)
After that I felt pretty good. She was honest and brutal, but she didn't shred it to pieces - I counted that as a win.
The second exercise was taking the action in our book and applying it to the structure presented in the class. I thought this would be easy, since as part of the planning for my novel I kept an Excel spreadsheet where I detailed the action by chapter.
It was not easy. In fact, it was really, really freaking hard - a zillion times harder than I expected. There were points where I'm supposed to be talking about my own book, about something I had written and spent countless hours with, and I didn't know what to say, didn't know what was right. Or, as I wrote it thought, hey, that doesn't make sense.
Predictably the honest critique exposed all of that. And it was, again, awesome and revealing and I wouldn't change a single thing about it, but at the same time it's a tad depressing. I plan on incorporating about 70% or so of her suggestions into the next draft of the book, but it does mean some very drastic changes. Characters will be minimized and in some cases their entire roles in the story will be changed. My main character needs to be harder, tougher, and the next draft will reflect that.
In fact, with Lani's suggestions, other suggestions from classmates, and my own thoughts, I made a list of (so far) 10 things I will focus on in the next draft. Some of them are big, some small. Some chapters will be totally redone, some will just be tweaked. Some points in the story are going to change drastically.
This is a daunting task, especially after having already written 300 pages and having felt pretty good about it.
But at the same time, another exercise was to read my own novel like a reader, just making notes of things that did and did not work. My conclusion? It's a long way from what I thought it was in my head - but it's also not horrible. There is some good stuff here and I think with my list of focal points I'm going to pull out a much tighter story, and I firmly believe this next phase will be completely worth it.
So here I am, getting ready to begin. I've put it off for a week, dealing with some stressful times at both of my jobs, but this weekend the next draft will begin.
Some authors love this part. Wifey and I went to Tawna Fenske's book signing in Beaverton last week and another well-known Portland author, Bill Cameron (whom I admire and respect and writes similar stories to mine) was also there. I awkwardly introduced myself - we had chatted on Twitter but never met in person - and after he placed my face with where he knew me from, he asked me about my own progress. I told him about the stage I was at and he nodded, knowingly. This was his favorite part, he said, because this is where a story really finds it's voice. Lani said almost the same thing, as did Tawna.
I'm ready, story. I'm going to dig that voice out of you, shredding to pieces whatever needs shredding, and it will be good (when I want to be really cocky I can think "great").
Wish me luck!
Then I began a class on novel structure, taught by Lani Diane Rich (author of many books), the same person who taught the Discovery writing class I took earlier this year. The basic synopsis of the class is teaching beginning novelists the ins and outs of a four-act novel with seven anchor scenes, learning how the action builds from one point to the next. If you can remember back to middle school English, it's similar - but more detailed - to the basic graph of a three-act play, with fun terms like "rising action" and "denouement" (Mrs. McCormick would be so pleased I remember those things).
First off, Lani is a terrific teacher and her classes are a lot of fun, but they are also work and she will be completely honest when you share pieces of your work. As she should be - that's exactly what I wanted.
The first thing we shared was our opening scene, which for me is my first chapter. It's about 1,600 words or so, eight or nine pages double spaced in Word. Each person in the class reviewed each of the scenes with specific questions in mind and Lani did the same.
She warned us ahead of time she would be brutal if it called for it, and she was - but in a good way. There were pieces of mine she really liked, and pieces she didn't like. She followed that up with great suggestions on how it could be better, most of which I agreed with. (I should note at this point she also recommended we share the scene with some friends who didn't know what the story was about, and see what they expected from the rest of the book - this was a fantastic, and revealing, exercise.)
After that I felt pretty good. She was honest and brutal, but she didn't shred it to pieces - I counted that as a win.
The second exercise was taking the action in our book and applying it to the structure presented in the class. I thought this would be easy, since as part of the planning for my novel I kept an Excel spreadsheet where I detailed the action by chapter.
It was not easy. In fact, it was really, really freaking hard - a zillion times harder than I expected. There were points where I'm supposed to be talking about my own book, about something I had written and spent countless hours with, and I didn't know what to say, didn't know what was right. Or, as I wrote it thought, hey, that doesn't make sense.
Predictably the honest critique exposed all of that. And it was, again, awesome and revealing and I wouldn't change a single thing about it, but at the same time it's a tad depressing. I plan on incorporating about 70% or so of her suggestions into the next draft of the book, but it does mean some very drastic changes. Characters will be minimized and in some cases their entire roles in the story will be changed. My main character needs to be harder, tougher, and the next draft will reflect that.
In fact, with Lani's suggestions, other suggestions from classmates, and my own thoughts, I made a list of (so far) 10 things I will focus on in the next draft. Some of them are big, some small. Some chapters will be totally redone, some will just be tweaked. Some points in the story are going to change drastically.
This is a daunting task, especially after having already written 300 pages and having felt pretty good about it.
But at the same time, another exercise was to read my own novel like a reader, just making notes of things that did and did not work. My conclusion? It's a long way from what I thought it was in my head - but it's also not horrible. There is some good stuff here and I think with my list of focal points I'm going to pull out a much tighter story, and I firmly believe this next phase will be completely worth it.
So here I am, getting ready to begin. I've put it off for a week, dealing with some stressful times at both of my jobs, but this weekend the next draft will begin.
Some authors love this part. Wifey and I went to Tawna Fenske's book signing in Beaverton last week and another well-known Portland author, Bill Cameron (whom I admire and respect and writes similar stories to mine) was also there. I awkwardly introduced myself - we had chatted on Twitter but never met in person - and after he placed my face with where he knew me from, he asked me about my own progress. I told him about the stage I was at and he nodded, knowingly. This was his favorite part, he said, because this is where a story really finds it's voice. Lani said almost the same thing, as did Tawna.
I'm ready, story. I'm going to dig that voice out of you, shredding to pieces whatever needs shredding, and it will be good (when I want to be really cocky I can think "great").
Wish me luck!
7/21/2011
A Writer "Moment"
I'm not the kind of person who tends to toot their own horn, especially around people I don't know very well or at all. When people ask me what I do I inevitably tell them about the day job, the one paying the bills, and leave it at that.
Rarely do I mention my second job - online news writing and editing - because I figure most people really don't care anyway. Which is true, they probably don't, but even if they did my point is I wouldn't bring it up without prodding.
I sure as hell don't broadcast that I am writing a book (I save that for between me and you here on the blog, because who could see it, right?). That brings up honest questions from people I never know how to answer, if I even know the answer. I don't know where this is going or how it will get there or any of that, and to be honest I haven't thought too far ahead because I'm more worried about the steps I can control.
You know, write the damn thing first, then worry about the agent/publisher/book tour/how to spend millions. Or something like that.
So I find it hard to identify myself as a writer because of that. To me a writer is someone who gets paid to write, which isn't quite where I am at the moment. To me it's a place I'd like to be, but I don't have the resume to back up the claim.
But today, I had a moment.
Yesterday I finished the second draft of my novel. I added something like 40 pages and 12,000 words to the second draft, incorporating seven more chapters, another minor storyline, and another character's point of view (this was already multi-POV). For a class I am taking about structure my instructions were to then print out the full story and approach it like a reader would (as best as possible knowing what will happen next and knowing the background of the characters that doesn't get put on the pages).
To that end I dumped the 300 page Word document onto a flash drive and stopped by FedEx Office (apparently Kinko's isn't in the name anymore and will live only in my memory) to print there, so I didn't burn through a full ink cartridge on my tiny home laser printer. After it was printed ($32?! Are you kidding me?! You know how many e-books I can buy for that?!) the woman helping me brought it to the counter for my approval. Another customer standing next to me, being helped by another employee, turned to me and said:
"Oh, wow, did you write a book?!"
My first instinct here was to brush it off, to just smile and let the moment pass, and for a split-second I almost did.
But you know what? Then I thought, "Fuck it. I DID write a book. I am PROUD of the fact I WROTE A BOOK. So yes, I did."
Out loud I said this: "I did." And smiled politely.
"That's so amazing!"
"Well, it's just a draft..."
"That's way more than I have ever done. That's great!"
Then the employee helping me weighed in: "The most I've ever written is a couple poems. That IS amazing."
Now I'm just embarrassed and want to spend my $32 and leave, but at the same time part of me is pretty damn proud. I am a writer.
It's funny, I just read this post yesterday evening by young adult writer Kiersten White (author of Paranormalcy - good read - and next-week release Supernaturally) on inkpop.com and she talked about what made her think of herself as a writer. She lists four things she felt made her an actual writer, but the one that resonates most with me - right now at least - is the fourth one about giving yourself permission.
Yes, yes, and more yes. She nailed it. That, I think, is a little bit why I feel the way I do.
Well guess what? Maybe I don't feel that way anymore. Or maybe I'm at least on the road to being more confident.
Published writers all, when they talk about their journey, discuss "moments" along the way that told them they could do this in a big-time way. Maybe this is one of mine, and 10-15 years from now I can look back on this, point at it, and say there. That's when it all began to change.
Crazier things have happened.
Rarely do I mention my second job - online news writing and editing - because I figure most people really don't care anyway. Which is true, they probably don't, but even if they did my point is I wouldn't bring it up without prodding.
I sure as hell don't broadcast that I am writing a book (I save that for between me and you here on the blog, because who could see it, right?). That brings up honest questions from people I never know how to answer, if I even know the answer. I don't know where this is going or how it will get there or any of that, and to be honest I haven't thought too far ahead because I'm more worried about the steps I can control.
You know, write the damn thing first, then worry about the agent/publisher/book tour/how to spend millions. Or something like that.
So I find it hard to identify myself as a writer because of that. To me a writer is someone who gets paid to write, which isn't quite where I am at the moment. To me it's a place I'd like to be, but I don't have the resume to back up the claim.
But today, I had a moment.
Yesterday I finished the second draft of my novel. I added something like 40 pages and 12,000 words to the second draft, incorporating seven more chapters, another minor storyline, and another character's point of view (this was already multi-POV). For a class I am taking about structure my instructions were to then print out the full story and approach it like a reader would (as best as possible knowing what will happen next and knowing the background of the characters that doesn't get put on the pages).
To that end I dumped the 300 page Word document onto a flash drive and stopped by FedEx Office (apparently Kinko's isn't in the name anymore and will live only in my memory) to print there, so I didn't burn through a full ink cartridge on my tiny home laser printer. After it was printed ($32?! Are you kidding me?! You know how many e-books I can buy for that?!) the woman helping me brought it to the counter for my approval. Another customer standing next to me, being helped by another employee, turned to me and said:
"Oh, wow, did you write a book?!"
My first instinct here was to brush it off, to just smile and let the moment pass, and for a split-second I almost did.
But you know what? Then I thought, "Fuck it. I DID write a book. I am PROUD of the fact I WROTE A BOOK. So yes, I did."
Out loud I said this: "I did." And smiled politely.
"That's so amazing!"
"Well, it's just a draft..."
"That's way more than I have ever done. That's great!"
Then the employee helping me weighed in: "The most I've ever written is a couple poems. That IS amazing."
Now I'm just embarrassed and want to spend my $32 and leave, but at the same time part of me is pretty damn proud. I am a writer.
It's funny, I just read this post yesterday evening by young adult writer Kiersten White (author of Paranormalcy - good read - and next-week release Supernaturally) on inkpop.com and she talked about what made her think of herself as a writer. She lists four things she felt made her an actual writer, but the one that resonates most with me - right now at least - is the fourth one about giving yourself permission.
This, for me, was the most important stage leading up to hitting the next level in my writing. Before, I'd always treated it as a hobby. Something that I did for fun in my spare time. I'd only talk about it if people pressed me, if they specifically asked, and even then I kind of brushed it off dismissively ... Because if I didn't claim to be serious about it, if I didn't admit how much I loved it and how big a goal getting published was, if I didn't CLAIM to be a writer, then it wouldn't matter if I failed.
Yes, yes, and more yes. She nailed it. That, I think, is a little bit why I feel the way I do.
Well guess what? Maybe I don't feel that way anymore. Or maybe I'm at least on the road to being more confident.
Published writers all, when they talk about their journey, discuss "moments" along the way that told them they could do this in a big-time way. Maybe this is one of mine, and 10-15 years from now I can look back on this, point at it, and say there. That's when it all began to change.
Crazier things have happened.
7/14/2011
What Really Scares Me
I have a confession to make: vampires don't scare me. Neither do ghosts, werewolves, zombies, or pretty much anything in the paranormal realm. It doesn't matter if the character/being is being spun at me all sparkly and with feelings by Stephanie Meyer or with fangs dripping blood bent only on imminent in something concocted by the crazy mind of Stephen King.
It doesn't scare me because it's not real. I don't believe in the existence of any of these things/beings outside our own imaginations, so how could I be scared of them?
That's not to say I completely discount their possible existence. Who knows? The world is a crazy place and unexplained occurrences happen all the time, so maybe at some point I will be shown some kind of proof, but until then I'm just as happily agnostic about the paranormal as I am in the existence of a higher power.
Some say there is crossover between the two; I don't want to get into that.
I just can't find myself getting scared by this genre in a book or a movie. Sure, I may get bothered or shocked out of my skin, but scared? Nope. (This is not an invitation to the world to go out of your way to scare the shit out of me. That would just be rude.)
What does scare me is scenarios with truth in them. A time and place where something happens to a person and I think, hey, I could see that happening to me. And what would I do in that situation?
Getting caught in the middle of a store robbery.
Getting in a car wreck with a drunk driver.
Being stuck on a plane with malfunctioning engines.
Finding myself as one of the unfortunate pieces of collateral damage in a terrorist attack.
Stuck in the crossfire between two gangs in an urban neighborhood.
Wrongfully accused of something and being unable to prove it.
Losing my job and running out of money.
THAT shit scares me. THOSE are the kinds of things that keep me up at night.
The late night ringing of the doorbell.
This one actually happened a few weeks back. Wifey and I were in the office, her studying and me working on the novel, about 9:30 or 10 at night, when the doorbell rang. Odd. Who rings a doorbell that late? That's never good, right? Misaki didn't even bark, just looked down the hallway towards the stairs and then back at us.
After debating for a couple seconds, I decided to answer the door. "Be careful," Wifey called as I walked down the stairs.
Think about that for a minute. We are sitting in our own house, minding our business, and the simple action of a doorbell ringing after dark necessitates a reminder to be careful. What does that say? And yes, I was a little freaked out. Should I grab a knife from the kitchen, just in case? Do I even open the door?
I debated this as I walked down the stairs. Then I did what most people do in these situations: I chose to believe the 99% probability this would be completely harmless. That other 1%, though, is where I get totally freaked out about.
I answered the door after flipping on the porch light and a man, who had made it back to the sidewalk at this point, hurried back to my door. I tensed, unsure what to expect, until I recognized his face as my neighbor. Then I relaxed, mostly (not completely - we don't know them that well), and asked what was up.
"I have to tell you something," he said. Um, really? Now? Okay, what?
Neighbor proceeded to point out a house just up the street on the next corner, a house with a family I don't know, and said that a couple days before - he just found this out - the mom woke up early in the morning, about 5ish, and went to the kitchen to make some breakfast. She saw a man in her backyard. Here Neighbor made a point to say the man didn't belong there, but in my mind I'm thinking well, what man does belong in any backyard at 5am?
The man saw her and ran off. She didn't get a good look at his face and had no description, but a patrol car did come out and take a statement, then pledging to up patrols in the area a bit.
The end result of this story had Neighbor urging us to keep our doors locked and our eyes open. He thought we should know. I said thank you, I appreciated that, and didn't say I was more freaked out by the doorbell ringing late than this story.
But it is disconcerting, to say the least. Backyards are not secure by any means. When you really think about it, neither are houses. Or cars. Or really much of anything. Locked doors are more of a deterrent than they are really about keeping the bad people out, the presumption being why make it easy for them, and if it's not easy, they will look elsewhere.
But this, this is the shit that scares me. The little bits of every day life that could so easily go horribly wrong. Or the events with a broader impact, like a terrorist attack, and getting stuck in the middle of a fight I have no dog in (which, really, is a horrible, horrible phrase - dogfighting? really? that's a metaphor?) and being forced to deal with the situation in the way I best know how, which may not be very good at all.
In the story I have written, part of the main sequence of events is under the control of the main characters, but the biggest flashpoint of the story is not - they are forced to react with something they never saw coming and go from there. To me the story is not necessarily in the event itself, though the events are fun to write and work through, but in how a given set of characters reacts to those events.
For me, a story will always begin with the phrase "What if....?" and go from there. Maybe it's an exercise in learning about myself, about preparing myself for the unexpected, or maybe it's simpler than that. Or more complicated. Or simply just is.
I do know that this is the shit that keeps me up at night. This is the shit that scares the holy hell out of me when I think about it too much, too deeply.
Vampires and werewolves? That's just entertainment.
It doesn't scare me because it's not real. I don't believe in the existence of any of these things/beings outside our own imaginations, so how could I be scared of them?
That's not to say I completely discount their possible existence. Who knows? The world is a crazy place and unexplained occurrences happen all the time, so maybe at some point I will be shown some kind of proof, but until then I'm just as happily agnostic about the paranormal as I am in the existence of a higher power.
Some say there is crossover between the two; I don't want to get into that.
I just can't find myself getting scared by this genre in a book or a movie. Sure, I may get bothered or shocked out of my skin, but scared? Nope. (This is not an invitation to the world to go out of your way to scare the shit out of me. That would just be rude.)
What does scare me is scenarios with truth in them. A time and place where something happens to a person and I think, hey, I could see that happening to me. And what would I do in that situation?
Getting caught in the middle of a store robbery.
Getting in a car wreck with a drunk driver.
Being stuck on a plane with malfunctioning engines.
Finding myself as one of the unfortunate pieces of collateral damage in a terrorist attack.
Stuck in the crossfire between two gangs in an urban neighborhood.
Wrongfully accused of something and being unable to prove it.
Losing my job and running out of money.
THAT shit scares me. THOSE are the kinds of things that keep me up at night.
The late night ringing of the doorbell.
This one actually happened a few weeks back. Wifey and I were in the office, her studying and me working on the novel, about 9:30 or 10 at night, when the doorbell rang. Odd. Who rings a doorbell that late? That's never good, right? Misaki didn't even bark, just looked down the hallway towards the stairs and then back at us.
After debating for a couple seconds, I decided to answer the door. "Be careful," Wifey called as I walked down the stairs.
Think about that for a minute. We are sitting in our own house, minding our business, and the simple action of a doorbell ringing after dark necessitates a reminder to be careful. What does that say? And yes, I was a little freaked out. Should I grab a knife from the kitchen, just in case? Do I even open the door?
I debated this as I walked down the stairs. Then I did what most people do in these situations: I chose to believe the 99% probability this would be completely harmless. That other 1%, though, is where I get totally freaked out about.
I answered the door after flipping on the porch light and a man, who had made it back to the sidewalk at this point, hurried back to my door. I tensed, unsure what to expect, until I recognized his face as my neighbor. Then I relaxed, mostly (not completely - we don't know them that well), and asked what was up.
"I have to tell you something," he said. Um, really? Now? Okay, what?
Neighbor proceeded to point out a house just up the street on the next corner, a house with a family I don't know, and said that a couple days before - he just found this out - the mom woke up early in the morning, about 5ish, and went to the kitchen to make some breakfast. She saw a man in her backyard. Here Neighbor made a point to say the man didn't belong there, but in my mind I'm thinking well, what man does belong in any backyard at 5am?
The man saw her and ran off. She didn't get a good look at his face and had no description, but a patrol car did come out and take a statement, then pledging to up patrols in the area a bit.
The end result of this story had Neighbor urging us to keep our doors locked and our eyes open. He thought we should know. I said thank you, I appreciated that, and didn't say I was more freaked out by the doorbell ringing late than this story.
But it is disconcerting, to say the least. Backyards are not secure by any means. When you really think about it, neither are houses. Or cars. Or really much of anything. Locked doors are more of a deterrent than they are really about keeping the bad people out, the presumption being why make it easy for them, and if it's not easy, they will look elsewhere.
But this, this is the shit that scares me. The little bits of every day life that could so easily go horribly wrong. Or the events with a broader impact, like a terrorist attack, and getting stuck in the middle of a fight I have no dog in (which, really, is a horrible, horrible phrase - dogfighting? really? that's a metaphor?) and being forced to deal with the situation in the way I best know how, which may not be very good at all.
In the story I have written, part of the main sequence of events is under the control of the main characters, but the biggest flashpoint of the story is not - they are forced to react with something they never saw coming and go from there. To me the story is not necessarily in the event itself, though the events are fun to write and work through, but in how a given set of characters reacts to those events.
For me, a story will always begin with the phrase "What if....?" and go from there. Maybe it's an exercise in learning about myself, about preparing myself for the unexpected, or maybe it's simpler than that. Or more complicated. Or simply just is.
I do know that this is the shit that keeps me up at night. This is the shit that scares the holy hell out of me when I think about it too much, too deeply.
Vampires and werewolves? That's just entertainment.
6/24/2011
I Killed a Red Pen
My first ever round of revisions went pretty well, I think. I mean, I have nothing to compare them to.
I printed each chapter as I wrote it over the previous two months, three-hole punching them and putting them in a binder. When I was finished, after letting it sit for two weeks, I broke out the red pen and started reading the pages. It took me about two weeks to cover my 260 pages and 37 chapters with red ink.
A lot of red ink. So much, in fact, around Chapter 22 or so my pen died. Yikes.
It wasn't a brand new pen when I started, but I don't normally use it very often so there was plenty of ink. Now all of that ink is soaking the pages of my manuscript.
Some people get really freaked out by red ink, as if it gives them flashbacks to elementary school, but it doesn't bother me. It's just another step on the road from Point A to Point B, and a take an odd kind of glee in marking up pages. I take more glee when they are someone else's, but still, it's fun. The whole point is to make the end product better, so it's hard to be mad at that.
I learned a couple things reading through the manuscript:
1 - There were scenes where I knew as I wrote them I would need to come back and spend serious time on them during the revision stage. These scenes were not nearly as bad as I remembered.
2 - There were scenes where as I wrote them I knew I had nailed them, that the revisions here would be minimal. These scenes are not nearly as good as I remember.
Then there were the scenes where I didn't have a good sense of where they would end up. Those scenes ended up being really good or really horrible.
In the end, no scene escaped with only a minimum of red ink. In fact, I could probably count on two fingers the number of pages without red on them - and those two pages probably were at the end of a chapter with only a few lines on it.
To me, I take this all as good news. I think at the first draft stage if I don't find problems or things to improve in every scene I'm not looking hard enough.
What's the next step? This weekend I will start the integration of these edits into a second draft. I'm hoping this only takes a couple weeks, but who knows? I signed up for a six-week online class about revisions starting on July 17th, so I want to be finished at least a week before that so I can let it sit. (In my confirmation email for the class it was suggested I should come to class with a manuscript I hadn't looked at in six weeks. Oh well.)
That class is going to produce the edits leading to the third draft, and after that, maybe, I'll see if anyone wants to read the thing. Maybe.
It's all progress - and it feels good to reach another milestone.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to run to Office Max for more red pens...
I printed each chapter as I wrote it over the previous two months, three-hole punching them and putting them in a binder. When I was finished, after letting it sit for two weeks, I broke out the red pen and started reading the pages. It took me about two weeks to cover my 260 pages and 37 chapters with red ink.
A lot of red ink. So much, in fact, around Chapter 22 or so my pen died. Yikes.
It wasn't a brand new pen when I started, but I don't normally use it very often so there was plenty of ink. Now all of that ink is soaking the pages of my manuscript.
Some people get really freaked out by red ink, as if it gives them flashbacks to elementary school, but it doesn't bother me. It's just another step on the road from Point A to Point B, and a take an odd kind of glee in marking up pages. I take more glee when they are someone else's, but still, it's fun. The whole point is to make the end product better, so it's hard to be mad at that.
I learned a couple things reading through the manuscript:
1 - There were scenes where I knew as I wrote them I would need to come back and spend serious time on them during the revision stage. These scenes were not nearly as bad as I remembered.
2 - There were scenes where as I wrote them I knew I had nailed them, that the revisions here would be minimal. These scenes are not nearly as good as I remember.
Then there were the scenes where I didn't have a good sense of where they would end up. Those scenes ended up being really good or really horrible.
In the end, no scene escaped with only a minimum of red ink. In fact, I could probably count on two fingers the number of pages without red on them - and those two pages probably were at the end of a chapter with only a few lines on it.
To me, I take this all as good news. I think at the first draft stage if I don't find problems or things to improve in every scene I'm not looking hard enough.
What's the next step? This weekend I will start the integration of these edits into a second draft. I'm hoping this only takes a couple weeks, but who knows? I signed up for a six-week online class about revisions starting on July 17th, so I want to be finished at least a week before that so I can let it sit. (In my confirmation email for the class it was suggested I should come to class with a manuscript I hadn't looked at in six weeks. Oh well.)
That class is going to produce the edits leading to the third draft, and after that, maybe, I'll see if anyone wants to read the thing. Maybe.
It's all progress - and it feels good to reach another milestone.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to run to Office Max for more red pens...
5/28/2011
First Draft: Complete
When I decided to buckle down and actually write a novel the idea was pretty overwhelming. I mean, sit down and produce something of at least 50,000 words? And who knows how many pages? Wow. Insane.
I've written quite a bit in my life, probably millions of words worth of things. I write for my second job, producing multiple pieces per week, but the longest thing I had ever before written was about 30 pages (my senior thesis at the University of Oregon - something about Japan-US relations, the details I can't remember now), and the longest piece of fiction I had written was something in the range of 15 pages, at most.
Armed with my idea, one I had marinated on for months, letting the details come together, and with the help of a couple writing classes, I sat down to write it. Obviously this was not an overnight endeavor.
One thing writing classes or experts will tell a young/fresh writer is to write every day. Set aside a chunk of time, a place to do it, and every day at that time for a specified length of time, you write. You don't let anything get in your way of that time, be it friends, family, life, or even writer's block. You just write. You don't worry about the quality, because the idea is to keep the words pouring onto the page.
To me, there is a time and place for that. While trying to write a novel is not the time nor the place. If I were to sit down every day after work, after hitting the gym, after doing whatever else I need to do, and write in my novel every single day for x amount of time regardless of how I felt, you know what I would have? A steaming pile of crap.
I need to be in the right frame of mind when I write. I can't have things I need to do. I can't feel hurried by an end time because I have do something else. People don't like to hear that (I have found) because (I believe) they don't think it's the right way to go about it, since that's not what all experts say you should do.
I would caution people to remember the number one rule of writing: do what works best for you. Setting up a specific time every day may work for you, but it doesn't for me.
I took a few things into account when deciding whether or not to write on a given day.
First, how tired am I? My day starts at 5:30am and usually ends close to midnight. Some days I will simply be more tired than others. On those days I didn't work on the novel, because I knew for a fact when I read through it again I'd have to do major rework (as I opposed to what I did write on days when I felt good, when there is only the strong possibility of major rework - slight difference). Why waste my time when I'll just have to completely re-do it later? Instead, I waited for the days when I felt I would produce good work, which ended up being 3-4 days a week (two of those days being Saturday and Sunday, when I could sleep in - big surprise). The days I did not work on the novel I still wrote - I caught up on the blog, Misaki's blog, emails, Facebook, Twitter - things that don't need nearly as much though and focus.
Second, do I have time to write an entire chapter? For this novel, for me, one chapter represented one complete thought or scene. Usually you are told to set word counts or time minimums. I like to spend some time thinking about the next chapter, planning how it will go and who will be involved, so when I sit down and write it the flow is there. My novel has each chapter being told from a different point of view from the previous, so the planning is completely different. There are six or seven points of view and just under 40 chapters, so this planning helped me keep each switch of scenes straight in my head. I hate stopping in the middle because I would lose my train of thought, lose the feel of the scene. Planning is key for me here. I mapped out all my chapters in the beginning so I knew who the POV would be and what the chapter would be trying to accomplish. I didn't detail it any deeper, because I wanted to allow for creativity without letting it get to off the rails. I also revised my spreadsheet about eight times while writing, deleting and adding prospective chapters, changing the goals. Creativity needs parameters if the goal is to get from point A to point Z, while hitting each point in between.
Third, does my list have at least three things? (You will get that joke if you watch 30 Rock.)
Fourth, what do I have to drink? All writers need to feel comfortable in the place they write. For me, I always need something to drink. It could be coffee, water, beer, wine, tea, anything - but I need something to drink. I have no idea why my throat seems to get parched typing, but it does. And hey, when said drink is beer/wine/bourbon/something like that, it really puts that little voice in your head that says "Are you sure that's what you want it to say?" to sleep. I think my voice is a lightweight. I'm sure not.
It took me about eight weeks to write the first draft. Every time I sat down and opened up the Word document with the manuscript in it I was amazed, watching the word and page count rise. Suddenly 50,000 words didn't seem too far away. Then it was in the rear view mirror.
All told it checked in at 37 chapters, six different points of view, 253 pages, and a tiny shade under 70,000 words. Wow.
To me, the best part of all of that is not only that I did it, but that I like what I did. I've seen many people talk about how they hated their first drafts, but I like mine. It's far from perfect, but I told the story how I wanted to be told, without getting too sidetracked and still with letting my characters develop and change the storyline due to their needs. I tried not to force anything.
And, perhaps most of all, I already know what I want to change. As I was writing I knew I wasn't paying as much attention to details of scenes and characters, the little things that help a reader recreate the picture in their own mind. I don't plan on being a writer who goes crazy with that, but I know I want to do more than I did. For the first draft I wanted to stay focused on the basic structure - I can add the paint on the second time through, and the furniture on the third. It's funny to me how I was conscious of this as I wrote the words, but I didn't want to slow down. I made mental notes and when I sit down with my red pen and a hard copy of the novel over the next couple weeks, I'll be adding those notes to the pages in preparation for the second draft.
I also know I need to write more as well. One character who I didn't intend to be a focal point of the novel became one, and because of that I felt about two-thirds of the way through I needed to add his point of view, his voice.Three or four chapters should do it, I think, so I'll be noting where best to insert those during the editing as well.
Another idea I had I'm not ready to tackle yet. I'm a big fan of how some authors - Jodi Piccoult is the best example I have off the top of my head - write their chapters from multiple points of view (like this book), but all in first-person. I like that and thought it would be fun to do this book that way, to get even closer to the characters, to know what they are really feeling in a given moment. That would, obviously, involve serious amounts of rewriting and I don't think it's necessary, at this point. I may change my mind in the future. Maybe for the second book.
So now it's time for the editing. Some people hate it, some love it - I'm cautiously excited for it, since I haven't read any of these things I've written since I saved them the first time. (That was one rule I made - finish it first. Read it through later. Don't get distracted with editing as you go.) Will the ending match the beginning? Probably not. Will the intros of the characters match what they became later? Probably not. Does it flow well and make sense? I hope so. I set out to write a page-turning thriller/mystery, did I keep the pages turning? I already know the answer here is not always, but I hope at least some.
One fun thing I want to do - that I can do because I set the book in Portland, Oregon - is I need to do some recon of the parts of the city I chose to use. I used settings familiar to me, but I need to read what I wrote and then go to that place, take some pictures, and make sure what I wrote matches a feasible reality. (Yes, perhaps this would have made sense to do beforehand, but it involves time and planning, and I wanted to write. Maybe this will become a lesson learned, or maybe it will work - that's all part of the fun!)
It all needs tweaking/re-writing/editing/cleaning/polishing/painting. Maybe I should get started. I haven't looked at it in two weeks...it's time to rein this puppy in and start ripping it apart.
Now where is my red pen...
Quick link to share: I read this post the other day from author John Rickards on his opinion of pricing for ebooks and I have to say, it was fantastic. Read it if you are into that kind of thing.
I've written quite a bit in my life, probably millions of words worth of things. I write for my second job, producing multiple pieces per week, but the longest thing I had ever before written was about 30 pages (my senior thesis at the University of Oregon - something about Japan-US relations, the details I can't remember now), and the longest piece of fiction I had written was something in the range of 15 pages, at most.
Armed with my idea, one I had marinated on for months, letting the details come together, and with the help of a couple writing classes, I sat down to write it. Obviously this was not an overnight endeavor.
One thing writing classes or experts will tell a young/fresh writer is to write every day. Set aside a chunk of time, a place to do it, and every day at that time for a specified length of time, you write. You don't let anything get in your way of that time, be it friends, family, life, or even writer's block. You just write. You don't worry about the quality, because the idea is to keep the words pouring onto the page.
To me, there is a time and place for that. While trying to write a novel is not the time nor the place. If I were to sit down every day after work, after hitting the gym, after doing whatever else I need to do, and write in my novel every single day for x amount of time regardless of how I felt, you know what I would have? A steaming pile of crap.
I need to be in the right frame of mind when I write. I can't have things I need to do. I can't feel hurried by an end time because I have do something else. People don't like to hear that (I have found) because (I believe) they don't think it's the right way to go about it, since that's not what all experts say you should do.
I would caution people to remember the number one rule of writing: do what works best for you. Setting up a specific time every day may work for you, but it doesn't for me.
I took a few things into account when deciding whether or not to write on a given day.
First, how tired am I? My day starts at 5:30am and usually ends close to midnight. Some days I will simply be more tired than others. On those days I didn't work on the novel, because I knew for a fact when I read through it again I'd have to do major rework (as I opposed to what I did write on days when I felt good, when there is only the strong possibility of major rework - slight difference). Why waste my time when I'll just have to completely re-do it later? Instead, I waited for the days when I felt I would produce good work, which ended up being 3-4 days a week (two of those days being Saturday and Sunday, when I could sleep in - big surprise). The days I did not work on the novel I still wrote - I caught up on the blog, Misaki's blog, emails, Facebook, Twitter - things that don't need nearly as much though and focus.
Second, do I have time to write an entire chapter? For this novel, for me, one chapter represented one complete thought or scene. Usually you are told to set word counts or time minimums. I like to spend some time thinking about the next chapter, planning how it will go and who will be involved, so when I sit down and write it the flow is there. My novel has each chapter being told from a different point of view from the previous, so the planning is completely different. There are six or seven points of view and just under 40 chapters, so this planning helped me keep each switch of scenes straight in my head. I hate stopping in the middle because I would lose my train of thought, lose the feel of the scene. Planning is key for me here. I mapped out all my chapters in the beginning so I knew who the POV would be and what the chapter would be trying to accomplish. I didn't detail it any deeper, because I wanted to allow for creativity without letting it get to off the rails. I also revised my spreadsheet about eight times while writing, deleting and adding prospective chapters, changing the goals. Creativity needs parameters if the goal is to get from point A to point Z, while hitting each point in between.
Third, does my list have at least three things? (You will get that joke if you watch 30 Rock.)
Fourth, what do I have to drink? All writers need to feel comfortable in the place they write. For me, I always need something to drink. It could be coffee, water, beer, wine, tea, anything - but I need something to drink. I have no idea why my throat seems to get parched typing, but it does. And hey, when said drink is beer/wine/bourbon/something like that, it really puts that little voice in your head that says "Are you sure that's what you want it to say?" to sleep. I think my voice is a lightweight. I'm sure not.
It took me about eight weeks to write the first draft. Every time I sat down and opened up the Word document with the manuscript in it I was amazed, watching the word and page count rise. Suddenly 50,000 words didn't seem too far away. Then it was in the rear view mirror.
All told it checked in at 37 chapters, six different points of view, 253 pages, and a tiny shade under 70,000 words. Wow.
To me, the best part of all of that is not only that I did it, but that I like what I did. I've seen many people talk about how they hated their first drafts, but I like mine. It's far from perfect, but I told the story how I wanted to be told, without getting too sidetracked and still with letting my characters develop and change the storyline due to their needs. I tried not to force anything.
And, perhaps most of all, I already know what I want to change. As I was writing I knew I wasn't paying as much attention to details of scenes and characters, the little things that help a reader recreate the picture in their own mind. I don't plan on being a writer who goes crazy with that, but I know I want to do more than I did. For the first draft I wanted to stay focused on the basic structure - I can add the paint on the second time through, and the furniture on the third. It's funny to me how I was conscious of this as I wrote the words, but I didn't want to slow down. I made mental notes and when I sit down with my red pen and a hard copy of the novel over the next couple weeks, I'll be adding those notes to the pages in preparation for the second draft.
I also know I need to write more as well. One character who I didn't intend to be a focal point of the novel became one, and because of that I felt about two-thirds of the way through I needed to add his point of view, his voice.Three or four chapters should do it, I think, so I'll be noting where best to insert those during the editing as well.
Another idea I had I'm not ready to tackle yet. I'm a big fan of how some authors - Jodi Piccoult is the best example I have off the top of my head - write their chapters from multiple points of view (like this book), but all in first-person. I like that and thought it would be fun to do this book that way, to get even closer to the characters, to know what they are really feeling in a given moment. That would, obviously, involve serious amounts of rewriting and I don't think it's necessary, at this point. I may change my mind in the future. Maybe for the second book.
So now it's time for the editing. Some people hate it, some love it - I'm cautiously excited for it, since I haven't read any of these things I've written since I saved them the first time. (That was one rule I made - finish it first. Read it through later. Don't get distracted with editing as you go.) Will the ending match the beginning? Probably not. Will the intros of the characters match what they became later? Probably not. Does it flow well and make sense? I hope so. I set out to write a page-turning thriller/mystery, did I keep the pages turning? I already know the answer here is not always, but I hope at least some.
One fun thing I want to do - that I can do because I set the book in Portland, Oregon - is I need to do some recon of the parts of the city I chose to use. I used settings familiar to me, but I need to read what I wrote and then go to that place, take some pictures, and make sure what I wrote matches a feasible reality. (Yes, perhaps this would have made sense to do beforehand, but it involves time and planning, and I wanted to write. Maybe this will become a lesson learned, or maybe it will work - that's all part of the fun!)
It all needs tweaking/re-writing/editing/cleaning/polishing/painting. Maybe I should get started. I haven't looked at it in two weeks...it's time to rein this puppy in and start ripping it apart.
Now where is my red pen...
Quick link to share: I read this post the other day from author John Rickards on his opinion of pricing for ebooks and I have to say, it was fantastic. Read it if you are into that kind of thing.
4/07/2011
Some Writing Thoughts
Kind of a brain dump today, both about my own writing and my personal thoughts on a few writing topics that seem to be getting a lot of attention around the blogosphere.
My Progress
When I first decided to write a novel I discovered a generally acceptable word count for a submission is 50,000-60,000 words. My first reaction? Holy crap that's a lot.
It sounded insane, writing that many words.
Now that I'm into writing the book myself, it doesn't seem so bad. I did the prep work which I've talked about in a few other posts and did some outlining of what I wanted to accomplish, chapter by chapter, of the 36 I ended up planning. After that all I had to do was actually write the words to finish a draft. I also now feel replicating this process on a second, third, fourth story is entirely possible, without feeling the fear of having to produce so many words in one place.
As of right now I'm 14 chapters into the first draft of the novel and have written over 26,000 words. Suddenly, the word count doesn't seem like a big deal at all. I've adjusted as I've gone along, removing some planned chapters, adjusting content, adding others, and now I have 38 chapters planned. If I keep up the pace that'll put me right around 70,000 words when I finish the first draft.
Which, of course, means I will have plenty to cut in the editing stages. I'm cool with that, because I'd much rather cut then finish with a word count that looks anemic for a book and have to decide where to inject new elements into the story.
Of course, there is another way to look at the words I've generated so far. An author I follow on Twitter - I can't recall who it was, but if I figure it out I will give proper credit - posted something similar to this the other day: "Latest manuscript is up to 40,000 words. Or, as I like to call it, 500 words that will actually appear in the book."
That's a painful thing to consider. True, but painful nonetheless.
Author Branding
Despite the fact I am nowhere near anything resembling the "seeking representation" stage as an author, which comes before the "try to get it published" stage, I still have been doing a lot of reading from various blogs - both from writers and agents - about the industry. Seems like the smart thing to do.
One of the hottest topics on those sites is the concept of branding. Most experts say you should create a blog to help build an audience of readers and also be active in social media, on things like Twitter and Facebook, all in the name of creating the brand of you as a writer.
Makes sense. There are quite a few authors I've connected with in this way I might not have otherwise met, authors whose books I have read and enjoyed based on how they present themselves online without ever having read a review.
I think it's a good idea. I mean, if I were a real author - which I hope to be at some point - I think this blog is a decent vehicle to give potential readers an insight into me as a person, to help make that personal connection. However, that's about where my agreement with the topic ends.
It seems like to many a writer's blog should spend an inordinate amount of time on, well, writing. The struggle, the insights, all of those things writers do on a daily basis. But is that really what gives potential readers the connection the topic in general deals with? For some readers, sure, because they are also writers themselves. And writers as a group always like to borrow from each other in order to achieve success, so they want the Extra Special Secrets (this is really no different than any other profession).
But does that mean if I am a writer I should only write about writing? Wouldn't that, honestly, be boring as hell? If I get to that point I'd like to think this blog really wouldn't change at all. Perhaps the location will change, perhaps I'll eventually have to out myself as a real person, and perhaps the integration with something more authorly will have to happen, but the tone and presentation in this blog I think is exactly as it should be.
Want insight into me as a person? Can you really do any better than learning from the stories I tell of my pets, the stuffing of my face, and anything else that is already on here? Trying to pass myself off as a writing expert might be asking a bit much anyway. Sure, I will still write about writing a bit (you know, like now), but to dedicate an author blog solely to that subject - and the subject of things like appearances and publishing dates - seems like the absolute opposite of the intention.
Cheap Ebooks and Self Publishing
In this new age of publishing, getting a book into the marketplace seems to be getting easier and easier. Established writers are skipping the normal publishing route and doing their own thing, while new writers who haven't been lucky enough to find that right agent or publishing house choose to publish themselves.
Someone asked me if I was going to self-publish. I hadn't even thought about it, honestly, but no, that's not my plan, at least not as of today. The best route to a long-term career is still going through the traditional agent-publisher route, even it's not instant gratification because it takes a long time to find the right fits.
There is also something else to consider: What if you self-publish and then do a poor or lacking job promoting the book, electronic or physical? That's the part many writers miss, and that's why some decent books may not ever be found by people who would love them. That's the part publishers really can help with.
I think many also hope they will prove agents or publishers, who may have turned the novel down, wrong by finding instant success doing it themselves. Agents, I know, will respect the fact an author does find success this way, but their idea of success is very clear. One agent I asked on Twitter said selling anything less than 10,000 copies on your own would be a clear turn-off to them (or, if you like it straight, a failure). And that failure doesn't go away - it follows one around on the next submission.
Some people will find success this way. Some will be able to turn it into a traditional publishing deal. Me, I'm going the old-fashioned route. If some undetermined length of time passes and I get no nibbles, perhaps I will change my mind, but until then that's my plan.
Then there is the cost of ebooks. Some writers are angry self-published ebooks sell for $.99 or $1.99, claiming it devalues the book market as a whole, setting an expectation all ebooks should be dirt cheap to consumers. Others defend the practice, saying writers should be able to sell for whatever they like.
I see both sides. If a writer is self-publishing they can set the price wherever they like - that decision is on them. But, to the claim of devaluing books as a whole, I say no way. With books, just like with any consumer item, there is a range of prices. People will spend for quality in books, just like they do with cars or restaurants or wine or anything else. Just because author A sells for $.99 doesn't mean consumers will decide everything should be $.99. Some may, sure, but again that's true for any market.
Readers are not going to expect all books to be dirt cheap - that's just silly.
Reviews
There was an epic blowup last week on the net where an author took umbrage to a poor review of their book on a blog. This author commented, angrily, that the review was unfair, the discussion devolved into f-bombs, and it was not a proud moment. If you are interested, I'm sure Googling it will find you the right page.
I personally don't think that much about the possibility of negative reviews. Heck, I'd just like to get the book drafted first. Then edited. Then peer reviewed. And edited again. And find an agent. And a publisher. And - you get the point, that such a worry is so far away from where I am now it's not on the radar.
But still, reviews will (hopefully) happen and inevitably they won't be all warm and fuzzy. I've dealt with that in writing before, so I'd like to think I can take it. I'd also like to think I could just not read any, but that probably won't happen.
Above all the most important thing is to keep cool. Regard it critically, because it might have some truth. I know going in this book may not appeal to everyone, but that's just how it is. I've tried supposedly the best chocolate chip cookie recipe ever, but found another recipe I think is better. That's just the way it is.
Hakuna Matata.
My Progress
When I first decided to write a novel I discovered a generally acceptable word count for a submission is 50,000-60,000 words. My first reaction? Holy crap that's a lot.
It sounded insane, writing that many words.
Now that I'm into writing the book myself, it doesn't seem so bad. I did the prep work which I've talked about in a few other posts and did some outlining of what I wanted to accomplish, chapter by chapter, of the 36 I ended up planning. After that all I had to do was actually write the words to finish a draft. I also now feel replicating this process on a second, third, fourth story is entirely possible, without feeling the fear of having to produce so many words in one place.
As of right now I'm 14 chapters into the first draft of the novel and have written over 26,000 words. Suddenly, the word count doesn't seem like a big deal at all. I've adjusted as I've gone along, removing some planned chapters, adjusting content, adding others, and now I have 38 chapters planned. If I keep up the pace that'll put me right around 70,000 words when I finish the first draft.
Which, of course, means I will have plenty to cut in the editing stages. I'm cool with that, because I'd much rather cut then finish with a word count that looks anemic for a book and have to decide where to inject new elements into the story.
Of course, there is another way to look at the words I've generated so far. An author I follow on Twitter - I can't recall who it was, but if I figure it out I will give proper credit - posted something similar to this the other day: "Latest manuscript is up to 40,000 words. Or, as I like to call it, 500 words that will actually appear in the book."
That's a painful thing to consider. True, but painful nonetheless.
Author Branding
Despite the fact I am nowhere near anything resembling the "seeking representation" stage as an author, which comes before the "try to get it published" stage, I still have been doing a lot of reading from various blogs - both from writers and agents - about the industry. Seems like the smart thing to do.
One of the hottest topics on those sites is the concept of branding. Most experts say you should create a blog to help build an audience of readers and also be active in social media, on things like Twitter and Facebook, all in the name of creating the brand of you as a writer.
Makes sense. There are quite a few authors I've connected with in this way I might not have otherwise met, authors whose books I have read and enjoyed based on how they present themselves online without ever having read a review.
I think it's a good idea. I mean, if I were a real author - which I hope to be at some point - I think this blog is a decent vehicle to give potential readers an insight into me as a person, to help make that personal connection. However, that's about where my agreement with the topic ends.
It seems like to many a writer's blog should spend an inordinate amount of time on, well, writing. The struggle, the insights, all of those things writers do on a daily basis. But is that really what gives potential readers the connection the topic in general deals with? For some readers, sure, because they are also writers themselves. And writers as a group always like to borrow from each other in order to achieve success, so they want the Extra Special Secrets (this is really no different than any other profession).
But does that mean if I am a writer I should only write about writing? Wouldn't that, honestly, be boring as hell? If I get to that point I'd like to think this blog really wouldn't change at all. Perhaps the location will change, perhaps I'll eventually have to out myself as a real person, and perhaps the integration with something more authorly will have to happen, but the tone and presentation in this blog I think is exactly as it should be.
Want insight into me as a person? Can you really do any better than learning from the stories I tell of my pets, the stuffing of my face, and anything else that is already on here? Trying to pass myself off as a writing expert might be asking a bit much anyway. Sure, I will still write about writing a bit (you know, like now), but to dedicate an author blog solely to that subject - and the subject of things like appearances and publishing dates - seems like the absolute opposite of the intention.
Cheap Ebooks and Self Publishing
In this new age of publishing, getting a book into the marketplace seems to be getting easier and easier. Established writers are skipping the normal publishing route and doing their own thing, while new writers who haven't been lucky enough to find that right agent or publishing house choose to publish themselves.
Someone asked me if I was going to self-publish. I hadn't even thought about it, honestly, but no, that's not my plan, at least not as of today. The best route to a long-term career is still going through the traditional agent-publisher route, even it's not instant gratification because it takes a long time to find the right fits.
There is also something else to consider: What if you self-publish and then do a poor or lacking job promoting the book, electronic or physical? That's the part many writers miss, and that's why some decent books may not ever be found by people who would love them. That's the part publishers really can help with.
I think many also hope they will prove agents or publishers, who may have turned the novel down, wrong by finding instant success doing it themselves. Agents, I know, will respect the fact an author does find success this way, but their idea of success is very clear. One agent I asked on Twitter said selling anything less than 10,000 copies on your own would be a clear turn-off to them (or, if you like it straight, a failure). And that failure doesn't go away - it follows one around on the next submission.
Some people will find success this way. Some will be able to turn it into a traditional publishing deal. Me, I'm going the old-fashioned route. If some undetermined length of time passes and I get no nibbles, perhaps I will change my mind, but until then that's my plan.
Then there is the cost of ebooks. Some writers are angry self-published ebooks sell for $.99 or $1.99, claiming it devalues the book market as a whole, setting an expectation all ebooks should be dirt cheap to consumers. Others defend the practice, saying writers should be able to sell for whatever they like.
I see both sides. If a writer is self-publishing they can set the price wherever they like - that decision is on them. But, to the claim of devaluing books as a whole, I say no way. With books, just like with any consumer item, there is a range of prices. People will spend for quality in books, just like they do with cars or restaurants or wine or anything else. Just because author A sells for $.99 doesn't mean consumers will decide everything should be $.99. Some may, sure, but again that's true for any market.
Readers are not going to expect all books to be dirt cheap - that's just silly.
Reviews
There was an epic blowup last week on the net where an author took umbrage to a poor review of their book on a blog. This author commented, angrily, that the review was unfair, the discussion devolved into f-bombs, and it was not a proud moment. If you are interested, I'm sure Googling it will find you the right page.
I personally don't think that much about the possibility of negative reviews. Heck, I'd just like to get the book drafted first. Then edited. Then peer reviewed. And edited again. And find an agent. And a publisher. And - you get the point, that such a worry is so far away from where I am now it's not on the radar.
But still, reviews will (hopefully) happen and inevitably they won't be all warm and fuzzy. I've dealt with that in writing before, so I'd like to think I can take it. I'd also like to think I could just not read any, but that probably won't happen.
Above all the most important thing is to keep cool. Regard it critically, because it might have some truth. I know going in this book may not appeal to everyone, but that's just how it is. I've tried supposedly the best chocolate chip cookie recipe ever, but found another recipe I think is better. That's just the way it is.
Hakuna Matata.
3/25/2011
Feeling Like A Real Writer
Lately I've been feeling more and more like an actual writer. This instead of feeling like someone who just thinks they want to write. It's a subtle difference, but it's a difference of confidence, and that can never be a bad thing.
The novel is actually going pretty well. I'm now seven chapters into it, with roughly 35 or so planned. I have almost 11,000 words which means I'll probably be right around 50,000-60,000 when this first draft is finished. Then of course comes the just-as-many hours of editing which, honestly, I think will be just as much fun as the writing. This is already the longest thing I have ever written in my life, surpassing my senior thesis in college.
To me I had a strong feeling I really wanted to do this, but even so I'm surprised at how much fun I'm having. I've been writing for years in a totally different kind of environment so I didn't expect that. I'm used to having my narrative constricted by silly things like "facts" and "quotes" and "reality." When all of that only lives in my brain before I put it on paper (or, more accurately, type it on screen), there is this sense of freedom I'm loving.
I have to give credit to both writing classes I took, which I have previously mentioned. The first one, for me, validated my raw skills as a writer. In that group I think my offerings compared well and people seemed to enjoy them.
Still, I felt a lot of trepidation about actually starting a novel. I mean, I had this idea I thought could be interesting, but where does one start to make it reality? From Lani Diane Rich I learned quite a bit about how to actually prepare for writing. The best part about her class was learning these concepts of helping one create the right environment to produce the words were very similar to the ideas I had in my head.
One exercise had to do with casting your characters. Another had to do with writing their backstories (this was awesome - I came up with a whole mess of delightfully evil tidbits). Another with the collage in the previous link. All of these things helped me get the story right in my mind. I then found myself able to map out the entire book, to blueprint it by chapter, and now all I need to do is keep writing. It's funny to me how as I went through the process I ended up changing just about all of my characters. Their ages changed, their roles changed (I actually should re-cast). The scenes and concepts changed as I gathered data on settings and character details. In fact, that collage? Not accurate anymore.
That's not saying it's not useful - it's the idea of the collage, of what it represents, that still works for me, just not the specific details. The same holds true for another exercise, one about creating a soundtrack for the story. For me, the songs I chose don't necessarily tell the story, but listening to them it allows my mind to think about the story, to wander. I think I'm inspired more by a well-written songs with good melodies rather than the specific lyrics themselves. They allow my brain to relax (which is very nice when I have a 45-minute commute each to and from work).
I have one little issue holding me back from fully saying I AM a real writer though. I don't seem to have the ability to write anywhere at any time. I feel as if I need a certain amount of time, such as the 60-90 minutes it takes me to craft a draft of a chapter of 1,500-2,000 words. I like to have solid beginning and ending points, so stopping in the middle of a chapter feels like it would be problematic (I don't know, since I haven't allowed myself to actually do it).
Oh well. How much fun would it really be if there were no struggles and breakthroughs?
Speaking of feeling like a writer, tomorrow I'm going to do my first writing in a coffee shop! That's what real writers do, right?
The novel is actually going pretty well. I'm now seven chapters into it, with roughly 35 or so planned. I have almost 11,000 words which means I'll probably be right around 50,000-60,000 when this first draft is finished. Then of course comes the just-as-many hours of editing which, honestly, I think will be just as much fun as the writing. This is already the longest thing I have ever written in my life, surpassing my senior thesis in college.
To me I had a strong feeling I really wanted to do this, but even so I'm surprised at how much fun I'm having. I've been writing for years in a totally different kind of environment so I didn't expect that. I'm used to having my narrative constricted by silly things like "facts" and "quotes" and "reality." When all of that only lives in my brain before I put it on paper (or, more accurately, type it on screen), there is this sense of freedom I'm loving.
I have to give credit to both writing classes I took, which I have previously mentioned. The first one, for me, validated my raw skills as a writer. In that group I think my offerings compared well and people seemed to enjoy them.
Still, I felt a lot of trepidation about actually starting a novel. I mean, I had this idea I thought could be interesting, but where does one start to make it reality? From Lani Diane Rich I learned quite a bit about how to actually prepare for writing. The best part about her class was learning these concepts of helping one create the right environment to produce the words were very similar to the ideas I had in my head.
One exercise had to do with casting your characters. Another had to do with writing their backstories (this was awesome - I came up with a whole mess of delightfully evil tidbits). Another with the collage in the previous link. All of these things helped me get the story right in my mind. I then found myself able to map out the entire book, to blueprint it by chapter, and now all I need to do is keep writing. It's funny to me how as I went through the process I ended up changing just about all of my characters. Their ages changed, their roles changed (I actually should re-cast). The scenes and concepts changed as I gathered data on settings and character details. In fact, that collage? Not accurate anymore.
That's not saying it's not useful - it's the idea of the collage, of what it represents, that still works for me, just not the specific details. The same holds true for another exercise, one about creating a soundtrack for the story. For me, the songs I chose don't necessarily tell the story, but listening to them it allows my mind to think about the story, to wander. I think I'm inspired more by a well-written songs with good melodies rather than the specific lyrics themselves. They allow my brain to relax (which is very nice when I have a 45-minute commute each to and from work).
I have one little issue holding me back from fully saying I AM a real writer though. I don't seem to have the ability to write anywhere at any time. I feel as if I need a certain amount of time, such as the 60-90 minutes it takes me to craft a draft of a chapter of 1,500-2,000 words. I like to have solid beginning and ending points, so stopping in the middle of a chapter feels like it would be problematic (I don't know, since I haven't allowed myself to actually do it).
Oh well. How much fun would it really be if there were no struggles and breakthroughs?
Speaking of feeling like a writer, tomorrow I'm going to do my first writing in a coffee shop! That's what real writers do, right?
2/18/2011
Novel: The Collage
When I decided to write a novel I thought I had this great idea, but I also felt as though I needed a little something more to help me get organized. Then back in December I read about this class taught by author Lani Diane Rich (via Tawna Fenske's blog) called Discovery, for fleshing out a novel idea. So I signed up.
Lani teaches various techniques for writers to get a feel for their story, plan it out and build it up, before actually starting the writing. We've done various exercises to help do that, but perhaps the most interesting so far has been creating a collage.
The idea behind the collage is to create something visual representing your novel, something that tells your story.
The great thing here is I kind of wanted to do something like this anyway. Since I am writing a mystery/thriller story, I wanted my collage to be something visually representing that kind of story. My idea was to make it look like an evidence board in a police station, something like what you may have seen on Dexter or Flash Forward.
So I bought two bulletin boards, two feet by three feet, to use as my base, and mounted them on the wall.
Next I had to gather materials to put on the board. Wifey had some construction paper and we came up with some cross stitch thread as well, along with a huge pile of pushpins.
First I needed a backdrop to mount my specific pieces on, so since my story is set in good old Portland, Oregon, I pinned up some old maps of the city.
Then it was time to fill in specifics. My original idea was to put characters on the left board and pictures representing key scenes, actions, or settings on the right. I wanted the pictures on the right to tie to specific places in the city, but given that much of it happens in the same general area that proved to not be possible.
Also, the characters - one of our previous exercises was to "cast" the characters in our novel using actual actors. Those pictures represent my characters.
The final piece was to use the thread, wrapping it around pushpins, to tie characters to events and settings, and then back to other characters. This is what really gave it the feel I wanted of something that would be in a police station. (And let me tell you, police stations must have people who only do this - tying off those threads took me over two hours just for the few shown. Yikes!)
And voila!
It actually turned out better than I expected, since I don't think of myself as very creative in this way. It's not perfect, but it definitely looks like what was in my head. I need to still add more to the right board. Also, I really like the maps, but they are also very busy and colorful, which makes it a little distracting. Perhaps I could have gotten around that by making the construction paper borders thicker. The color of the strings also has no meaning on this board - ideally they would.
But hey, it was actually pretty fun and I think it will be very helpful. It's to the wall on my immediate right as I sit where I will write the novel, so anytime I have a case of writer's block I can lean back in my chair and lose myself in what's on the wall, looking for some inspiration.
And yes, I would definitely recommend Lani's class over at Storywonk. It has been helpful already!
Lani teaches various techniques for writers to get a feel for their story, plan it out and build it up, before actually starting the writing. We've done various exercises to help do that, but perhaps the most interesting so far has been creating a collage.
The idea behind the collage is to create something visual representing your novel, something that tells your story.
The great thing here is I kind of wanted to do something like this anyway. Since I am writing a mystery/thriller story, I wanted my collage to be something visually representing that kind of story. My idea was to make it look like an evidence board in a police station, something like what you may have seen on Dexter or Flash Forward.
So I bought two bulletin boards, two feet by three feet, to use as my base, and mounted them on the wall.
Next I had to gather materials to put on the board. Wifey had some construction paper and we came up with some cross stitch thread as well, along with a huge pile of pushpins.
First I needed a backdrop to mount my specific pieces on, so since my story is set in good old Portland, Oregon, I pinned up some old maps of the city.
Then it was time to fill in specifics. My original idea was to put characters on the left board and pictures representing key scenes, actions, or settings on the right. I wanted the pictures on the right to tie to specific places in the city, but given that much of it happens in the same general area that proved to not be possible.
Also, the characters - one of our previous exercises was to "cast" the characters in our novel using actual actors. Those pictures represent my characters.
The final piece was to use the thread, wrapping it around pushpins, to tie characters to events and settings, and then back to other characters. This is what really gave it the feel I wanted of something that would be in a police station. (And let me tell you, police stations must have people who only do this - tying off those threads took me over two hours just for the few shown. Yikes!)
And voila!
It actually turned out better than I expected, since I don't think of myself as very creative in this way. It's not perfect, but it definitely looks like what was in my head. I need to still add more to the right board. Also, I really like the maps, but they are also very busy and colorful, which makes it a little distracting. Perhaps I could have gotten around that by making the construction paper borders thicker. The color of the strings also has no meaning on this board - ideally they would.
But hey, it was actually pretty fun and I think it will be very helpful. It's to the wall on my immediate right as I sit where I will write the novel, so anytime I have a case of writer's block I can lean back in my chair and lose myself in what's on the wall, looking for some inspiration.
And yes, I would definitely recommend Lani's class over at Storywonk. It has been helpful already!
2/09/2011
Title is Important, Right?
I imagine very few people would disagree about the importance of a good title for a book. Some may talk it down a bit and say what's inside is the most important, but that's probably only true for writers with established followings, people like a Tom Clancy, a John Grisham, or a James Patterson (not that their titles are bad, those are just examples).
For someone just trying to break into the biz, like yours truly, a nice, snappy title is definitely important.
Now I don't even have a book yet - far from it, actually - and I know that a publisher may very well call it whatever they want (I'm easy if it's gets the thing published), but at the same time I have this project I've started and I don't have a name for it.
Well, I do have a name, but in all honesty it blows. I knew that even before Wifey raised her eyebrows when I gave her the current name (which is definitely better than the first name).
I'd like to be able to call it something, something snappy, clever. Something that when I tell people the name of what I'm working on they will instantly be intrigued. As a new writer, that's what will get someone to pick the book up off the shelf and read the synopsis, or to click on More Detail in some listing on Amazon.com.
The next book on my reading list is called Hello Kitty Must Die, by Angela S. Choi. Now, I found this book via some online review, so I didn't pick it up randomly off the shelf, but that title reached and grabbed me. It says "READ ME, I'M AWESOME!" I have heard great things about the book, but the title by itself is worth a lengthy conversation at a dinner party (you know, if I went to that sort of thing).
Not only is this title great, but it also gives insights into the book. It has nothing to do with Hello Kitty, but is instead a story about a girl breaking the bonds of a stereotype. Well, and a serial killer. That's not the point. The point is this title has so much depth to it, it demands notice.
Just imagine.
Yes, it is this easy for me to distract myself. Why do you ask?
For someone just trying to break into the biz, like yours truly, a nice, snappy title is definitely important.
Now I don't even have a book yet - far from it, actually - and I know that a publisher may very well call it whatever they want (I'm easy if it's gets the thing published), but at the same time I have this project I've started and I don't have a name for it.
Well, I do have a name, but in all honesty it blows. I knew that even before Wifey raised her eyebrows when I gave her the current name (which is definitely better than the first name).
I'd like to be able to call it something, something snappy, clever. Something that when I tell people the name of what I'm working on they will instantly be intrigued. As a new writer, that's what will get someone to pick the book up off the shelf and read the synopsis, or to click on More Detail in some listing on Amazon.com.
The next book on my reading list is called Hello Kitty Must Die, by Angela S. Choi. Now, I found this book via some online review, so I didn't pick it up randomly off the shelf, but that title reached and grabbed me. It says "READ ME, I'M AWESOME!" I have heard great things about the book, but the title by itself is worth a lengthy conversation at a dinner party (you know, if I went to that sort of thing).
Not only is this title great, but it also gives insights into the book. It has nothing to do with Hello Kitty, but is instead a story about a girl breaking the bonds of a stereotype. Well, and a serial killer. That's not the point. The point is this title has so much depth to it, it demands notice.
Just imagine.
"So what are you reading?"
"Hello Kitty Must Die."
"Wow. That sounds interesting..."
Blah blah blah.Now what if the title were something more restrained?
"So what are you reading?"See what I mean? I want a title full of intrigue and cleverness, and yes, I want this despite the fact I don't have a novel yet. It's not logical, but it would help wrap my head around the project.
"Things Happen Fast." (This is not the working name of my novel, but it's about as lame.)
"Oh. How about the Blazers?"
Yes, it is this easy for me to distract myself. Why do you ask?
1/07/2011
Welcome to Misaki's World!
Misaki has been pestering me for awhile now because she wants to have an online presence - something about building her brand. She really wanted a Twitter account, but I already have two of my own I have to maintain - the one linked to this blog and one for work - and since I'm going to be the one doing all the writing (at her direction, of course), I declined.
Instead I started her a tumblr blog, which can be seen here: Misaki's World.
It's going to be a fun little place, told with Misaki's voice, where we post one-off pictures of her and the cats (she promised to share), and perhaps other pictures that don't necessarily have a story to go with them.
It's not abandoning thing blog, it's just outsourcing some of the things that would be fun to do that don't seem to fit right. Here I'll still post pictures of them, but ones that have a story that goes along with them.
Now, you may ask, why can't I post one-off pictures with captions here? Well, I can, of course. There isn't anything that says I can't. But, in the 18 months I've been writing on this blog, I haven't done it once, because I feel like there has to be more to it than a picture and a sentence. That's me - has nothing to do with the blog per se.
Tumblr, on the other hand, seems perfectly suited to this kind of thing. Misaki can get her thoughts out there, pictures can be posted of her and the cats being cute, and we can reblog (a tumblr feature) pictures of Shiba friends we've made online. I will also post pertinent links from this space Misaki's World, if it makes sense (as in, is it about Misaki or does it contain a cute picture of her?).
Plus, I've been wanting to write a bit from her perspective, but in small doses. If I want it to be bigger, maybe Misaki will "guest blog" in this space at some point. But why her perspective?
There is something in how Misaki watches us, something almost motherly in her observation, like she feels we are doing things all wrong but no one is in danger of imminent dismemberment so she'll let us figure out our mistakes on our own. Kind of weird, actually, having a small dog who seems so intelligent (I mean, IS intelligent) and can be so eerily cognizant of our conversations.
She rolls her eyes or huffs at just the right point in a conversation where a human might. She guides us like a border collie with OCD when it's time to be fed/go somewhere/head to bed.
So what's going through her mind as she does these things? Those are the places I hope to explore in Misaki's World. So far she sounds like a bit of a diva - she's really not (at least, not a big diva), so I might tone that down a tiny bit. Is it taking anthropromorphism to a new level? Sure it is, but it's a fun creative writing exercise. I've added a link to the Shiba Blog Roll at the right, so be sure to check it out.
Did I say I wanted to write more on the book a little less just a few days ago? I did, but in all honesty Misaki's World is a quick thing that is more of a break than a focused endeavour. Updating at least once - sometimes a lot more - daily takes almost no time at all, and I may also, perhaps, do it from work every once in a while. Or not. As far as you know.
Hope you enjoy it!
Instead I started her a tumblr blog, which can be seen here: Misaki's World.
It's going to be a fun little place, told with Misaki's voice, where we post one-off pictures of her and the cats (she promised to share), and perhaps other pictures that don't necessarily have a story to go with them.
It's not abandoning thing blog, it's just outsourcing some of the things that would be fun to do that don't seem to fit right. Here I'll still post pictures of them, but ones that have a story that goes along with them.
Now, you may ask, why can't I post one-off pictures with captions here? Well, I can, of course. There isn't anything that says I can't. But, in the 18 months I've been writing on this blog, I haven't done it once, because I feel like there has to be more to it than a picture and a sentence. That's me - has nothing to do with the blog per se.
Tumblr, on the other hand, seems perfectly suited to this kind of thing. Misaki can get her thoughts out there, pictures can be posted of her and the cats being cute, and we can reblog (a tumblr feature) pictures of Shiba friends we've made online. I will also post pertinent links from this space Misaki's World, if it makes sense (as in, is it about Misaki or does it contain a cute picture of her?).
Plus, I've been wanting to write a bit from her perspective, but in small doses. If I want it to be bigger, maybe Misaki will "guest blog" in this space at some point. But why her perspective?
There is something in how Misaki watches us, something almost motherly in her observation, like she feels we are doing things all wrong but no one is in danger of imminent dismemberment so she'll let us figure out our mistakes on our own. Kind of weird, actually, having a small dog who seems so intelligent (I mean, IS intelligent) and can be so eerily cognizant of our conversations.
She rolls her eyes or huffs at just the right point in a conversation where a human might. She guides us like a border collie with OCD when it's time to be fed/go somewhere/head to bed.
So what's going through her mind as she does these things? Those are the places I hope to explore in Misaki's World. So far she sounds like a bit of a diva - she's really not (at least, not a big diva), so I might tone that down a tiny bit. Is it taking anthropromorphism to a new level? Sure it is, but it's a fun creative writing exercise. I've added a link to the Shiba Blog Roll at the right, so be sure to check it out.
Did I say I wanted to write more on the book a little less just a few days ago? I did, but in all honesty Misaki's World is a quick thing that is more of a break than a focused endeavour. Updating at least once - sometimes a lot more - daily takes almost no time at all, and I may also, perhaps, do it from work every once in a while. Or not. As far as you know.
Hope you enjoy it!
12/23/2010
Writing Class Was A Success
So after six weeks and 12 lessons, I decided that online writing classes do not suck. In fact, it was actually quite a bit of fun.
Each of the classes - I signed up through Portland Community College, but the classes were done by a company called ed2go - focused on a specific basic component of writing, with plenty of exercises and examples. Each class also had a written assignment, which was then shared in a message board/forum system for analysis by the teacher and by our peers. There was also a five-question, multiple-choice quiz each week.
I feel like I learned quite a bit. Few of the concepts, admittedly, were new ones to me, but I could remember back to various English classes when I was first introduced to them and understand better why things are as they are. Given I now want to actively use the concepts to write seriously, they mean more.
Most education seems wasted on youth, I believe. It was all great back then, but there was no perspective involved, so most things were learned, tested upon, and summarily disregarded as unimportant.
The end goal of this class was to write a 500-word creative piece, which ended up being our final assignment. It could stand on it's own or be part of a larger piece, so I chose to write a scene from the oft-mentioned novel in my head I hadn't started. 1,900 words and multiple revisions later, I'm pretty proud of the scene I created. (As it turns out it's probably Chapter 2 of the manuscript and Chapter 1 hasn't been written. Whatever. Is that important?)
I took the final, which was holy-crap-36-multiple-choice-questions, and only missed one, which wasn't bad since I didn't study anything - just like back in college. I submitted my final creative piece to the forum for feedback.
I admit it - I was pretty damn proud of myself for writing the piece. Not only because I thought it read well, but because it represents finally starting the book I've been planning for awhile. It's the first step of a journey that will probably be pretty long. Fun times!
In all honesty I had no issues letting others read it. I liked it and thought others would too. I've been writing for the world on the net - here and elsewhere - long enough that a little criticism wasn't going to bother me. As it turned out, people seemed to really enjoy it. I deliberately wrote a serious action scene for this purpose, but everyone said they'd read more, which is all I can hope for, right? My teacher - as teachers are wont to do - knocked me down a couple pegs with some critiques, but she was spot on. I will make those changes, right the first chapter, and then move on with the rest of the story.
After taking the class I feel stronger than ever that this is what I need to do. So strongly, in fact, I signed up for another online class specifically about novel planning, which I found through Tawna Fenske's quite funny blog on gifts for writers.
Unfortunately for people hanging on my every word on this blog - probably no one - it means blog production is going down. I won't be writing any less, it just won't be in this space. Once or twice a week, maybe some cute Misaki and kitty pictures when the opportunity presents itself, but I'm shifting my focus for the moment.
You know, just until the BEST SELLER is written. What, are my expectations too high? Shrug.
Right - I have no doubt this will end up being a humbling experience. Or maybe it won't. I really have no idea, but it will be fun.
Each of the classes - I signed up through Portland Community College, but the classes were done by a company called ed2go - focused on a specific basic component of writing, with plenty of exercises and examples. Each class also had a written assignment, which was then shared in a message board/forum system for analysis by the teacher and by our peers. There was also a five-question, multiple-choice quiz each week.
I feel like I learned quite a bit. Few of the concepts, admittedly, were new ones to me, but I could remember back to various English classes when I was first introduced to them and understand better why things are as they are. Given I now want to actively use the concepts to write seriously, they mean more.
Most education seems wasted on youth, I believe. It was all great back then, but there was no perspective involved, so most things were learned, tested upon, and summarily disregarded as unimportant.
The end goal of this class was to write a 500-word creative piece, which ended up being our final assignment. It could stand on it's own or be part of a larger piece, so I chose to write a scene from the oft-mentioned novel in my head I hadn't started. 1,900 words and multiple revisions later, I'm pretty proud of the scene I created. (As it turns out it's probably Chapter 2 of the manuscript and Chapter 1 hasn't been written. Whatever. Is that important?)
I took the final, which was holy-crap-36-multiple-choice-questions, and only missed one, which wasn't bad since I didn't study anything - just like back in college. I submitted my final creative piece to the forum for feedback.
I admit it - I was pretty damn proud of myself for writing the piece. Not only because I thought it read well, but because it represents finally starting the book I've been planning for awhile. It's the first step of a journey that will probably be pretty long. Fun times!
In all honesty I had no issues letting others read it. I liked it and thought others would too. I've been writing for the world on the net - here and elsewhere - long enough that a little criticism wasn't going to bother me. As it turned out, people seemed to really enjoy it. I deliberately wrote a serious action scene for this purpose, but everyone said they'd read more, which is all I can hope for, right? My teacher - as teachers are wont to do - knocked me down a couple pegs with some critiques, but she was spot on. I will make those changes, right the first chapter, and then move on with the rest of the story.
After taking the class I feel stronger than ever that this is what I need to do. So strongly, in fact, I signed up for another online class specifically about novel planning, which I found through Tawna Fenske's quite funny blog on gifts for writers.
Unfortunately for people hanging on my every word on this blog - probably no one - it means blog production is going down. I won't be writing any less, it just won't be in this space. Once or twice a week, maybe some cute Misaki and kitty pictures when the opportunity presents itself, but I'm shifting my focus for the moment.
You know, just until the BEST SELLER is written. What, are my expectations too high? Shrug.
Right - I have no doubt this will end up being a humbling experience. Or maybe it won't. I really have no idea, but it will be fun.
11/22/2010
A Strange Interview
This writing class I'm taking is all about finding one's inner creative voice, about not stifling that voice, and using that voice in a way to create good writing. Along the way we get seemingly silly assignments, meant to stimulate said creativity in any way they can.
This is good. It's good for me to allow myself a little silliness, to see where it takes me. This will - and, I think, already is - make me a better writer and help me further towards my goal of novel writing. Mayhaps it will also lead my dear faithful readers - all five of you - to enjoy this tiny corner of blogdom a little bit more.
Some of these bits of silly creativity I want to post because it's just fun. This past week's assignment was to have a dialogue with an object. Dialoguing is meant to be a brainstorming activity, a way to come with new angles by focusing on and asking questions of a single object. It's also similar to free-writing, but more of a back and forth than being completely random. The assignment could be any object, but preferably one that has a story to tell. Some people chose a picture, a treasured family heirloom, or even a pet. Me? I looked around my desk in my office and chose my water bottle.
Hey, it's a fixture in my life. I have this goal to drink a gallon of water a day, which I hit about half the time, and my water bottle is in my car, on my desk at work and at home, next to the couch when I watch TV - not even my cell phone stays with me this much. So I set down to hear the real story on the life and times of my Camelbak water bottle - this is that story:
---
Me: So where are you from anyway?
WB: Weatherford, Texas. You know that because you Googled it. You can find anything on the internet you know, no need to ask me.
Me: Where’s your drawl?
WB: I was born there and shipped out. Plus, I don’t exactly have parents to pass down a drawl.
Me: I suppose that makes sense.
WB: It should. It’s truth.
Me: Where did you go that day?
WB: What day?
Me: You remember. The day I lost you.
WB: Ah, the day you left me on the trunk of the car?
Me: Yeah, that one. Or at least, I thought I had.
WB: You did.
Me: What? I got to work the next day and you were on my desk.
WB: Yep. I walked back.
Me: From where?! Hey, wait a minute…you don’t have legs.
WB: I’m awesome like that.
Me: You’re avoiding the question.
WB: What was it again?
Me: Where you went.
WB: Fine. You carried me out to the car like you do every day. Set me down on the bumper while you tossed your bag in the back of the Escape, like you always do. Then went and sat behind the wheel, leaving me on the bumper on a day when it was breezy and rainy. That was rude.
Me: Sorry about that.
WB: You should be. And by the way, you drive like a freaking maniac.
Me: Excuse me?
WB: Do you even know how many yellow lights you typically run?
Me: OK, for one, you were on the bumper, so how would you know? And two…all of them.
WB: How do I know? Because as you fly through the intersection I can see the cross traffic starting to go. And I can see the light is red after we passed under.
Me: Hmm. Okay. I’ll give you that. What else though? I mean, none of this explains how you got back to my desk.
WB: Well, around 12th and Hawthorne you jerked hard to the left to avoid a drunk bicyclist. I slid along the bumper to one side, hit the edge where it curls up slightly, and popped out into traffic.
Me: That’s two miles from work.
WB: I’m not done.
Me: Sorry.
WB: So this guy picks me up from the gutter and tosses me in his cart. How I didn’t get run over by crazy fools at rush hour I have no idea.
Me: Some homeless guy?
WB: Not sure. Didn’t ask him. Sure was thirsty though – he really liked that water you fill me with at work, the spring water they truck in from miles and miles away.
Me: Well yay for him. And yay for work for not being FLOSSy with their water.
WB: FLOSSy?
Me: Fresh. Local. Organic. Seasonal. Sustainable.
WB: Yeah, not so local. Probably not sustainable either. Anyway, the guy meandered all over the east side, and then around midnight we crossed the Morrison Bridge.
Me: So, now you are on the right side of the river, but further from work.
WB: Well, we did turn north. And actually the guy pushed his cart all the way down First to right in front of the Randolph building.
Me: How convenient. But I know he couldn’t get in.
WB: No, but it was kind of awesome. The guy gets jacked by these two other homeless guys with a shank made out of a chicken bone. The jumped out of the bushes, flipped his cart, stabbed him with the bone, grabbed some stuff, and ran off. I ended up rolling down the sidewalk to the base of the stairs that lead up to the building.
Me: You have got to be kidding me… All this, AND he drank out of you?
WB: I did say that, yes.
Me: Still, how did you get into the building?
WB: A raccoon grabbed me and carried me up the stairs to the door and left me there. I think he got spooked by something, but didn’t see it.
Me: And then?
WB: You know Mark from accounting?
Me: Umm…vaguely.
WB: He recognized me! He picked me up on his way in that morning and put me on your desk.
Me: I mean, you are pretty dang cool, but there has to be other 32oz blue Camelbak water bottles. How did he know you were mine?
WB: I told him.
Me: You… Um, what?
WB: Yep.
Me: That’s not possible.
WB: Why not?
Me: You don’t have vocal cords. Or a mouth.
WB: This is true. But I did. Besides, I’m talking to you now aren’t I?
Me: I guess. And how are you doing that again?
WB: For me to know and you to permanently wonder about.
Me: So, I did leave you on my bumper, and not on my desk as I surmised when you were there the next day.
WB: Yep.
Me: And you ended up in the gutter, were drank from by a homeless man, carried around the city, ended up on the ground again after the fight, and were carried upstairs by a raccoon?
WB: That about covers it.
Me: Um. When was the last time you went through the dishwasher?
WB: Probably two months ago.
Me: This incident was six weeks ago.
WB: Quite astute you are.
Me: So after all that, I’ve been drinking a gallon out of you every day, thinking I just left you on the desk.
WB: Yes, you have.
Me: Why didn’t you say anything?
WB: No vocal cords, remember?
Me: I think I’m going to be sick. I might have to get tested for…stuff. I have no idea what, but this can’t be good.
WB: Hey, before you do…
Me: What?
WB: Can you toss me in the dishwasher? A little soapy hot water might be a good idea.
Me: You think?
---
What did you think? Plain silliness? Or helpful brainstorming tool? Ever done this before?
I did feel a little silly sitting down and starting this thing, but as it wore I got more and more immersed in the story that emerged. The teacher for my class suggested this would be a good method if you are in the middle of a story and get stuck, not sure what should happen next or maybe how it should happen. I can totally see that and may very well use it for that purpose.
For now, in this exercise, I just think it's a tad entertaining.
This is good. It's good for me to allow myself a little silliness, to see where it takes me. This will - and, I think, already is - make me a better writer and help me further towards my goal of novel writing. Mayhaps it will also lead my dear faithful readers - all five of you - to enjoy this tiny corner of blogdom a little bit more.
Some of these bits of silly creativity I want to post because it's just fun. This past week's assignment was to have a dialogue with an object. Dialoguing is meant to be a brainstorming activity, a way to come with new angles by focusing on and asking questions of a single object. It's also similar to free-writing, but more of a back and forth than being completely random. The assignment could be any object, but preferably one that has a story to tell. Some people chose a picture, a treasured family heirloom, or even a pet. Me? I looked around my desk in my office and chose my water bottle.
Hey, it's a fixture in my life. I have this goal to drink a gallon of water a day, which I hit about half the time, and my water bottle is in my car, on my desk at work and at home, next to the couch when I watch TV - not even my cell phone stays with me this much. So I set down to hear the real story on the life and times of my Camelbak water bottle - this is that story:
---
Me: So where are you from anyway?
WB: Weatherford, Texas. You know that because you Googled it. You can find anything on the internet you know, no need to ask me.
Me: Where’s your drawl?
WB: I was born there and shipped out. Plus, I don’t exactly have parents to pass down a drawl.
Me: I suppose that makes sense.
WB: It should. It’s truth.
Me: Where did you go that day?
WB: What day?
Me: You remember. The day I lost you.
WB: Ah, the day you left me on the trunk of the car?
Me: Yeah, that one. Or at least, I thought I had.
WB: You did.
Me: What? I got to work the next day and you were on my desk.
WB: Yep. I walked back.
Me: From where?! Hey, wait a minute…you don’t have legs.
WB: I’m awesome like that.
Me: You’re avoiding the question.
WB: What was it again?
Me: Where you went.
WB: Fine. You carried me out to the car like you do every day. Set me down on the bumper while you tossed your bag in the back of the Escape, like you always do. Then went and sat behind the wheel, leaving me on the bumper on a day when it was breezy and rainy. That was rude.
Me: Sorry about that.
WB: You should be. And by the way, you drive like a freaking maniac.
Me: Excuse me?
WB: Do you even know how many yellow lights you typically run?
Me: OK, for one, you were on the bumper, so how would you know? And two…all of them.
WB: How do I know? Because as you fly through the intersection I can see the cross traffic starting to go. And I can see the light is red after we passed under.
Me: Hmm. Okay. I’ll give you that. What else though? I mean, none of this explains how you got back to my desk.
WB: Well, around 12th and Hawthorne you jerked hard to the left to avoid a drunk bicyclist. I slid along the bumper to one side, hit the edge where it curls up slightly, and popped out into traffic.
Me: That’s two miles from work.
WB: I’m not done.
Me: Sorry.
WB: So this guy picks me up from the gutter and tosses me in his cart. How I didn’t get run over by crazy fools at rush hour I have no idea.
Me: Some homeless guy?
WB: Not sure. Didn’t ask him. Sure was thirsty though – he really liked that water you fill me with at work, the spring water they truck in from miles and miles away.
Me: Well yay for him. And yay for work for not being FLOSSy with their water.
WB: FLOSSy?
Me: Fresh. Local. Organic. Seasonal. Sustainable.
WB: Yeah, not so local. Probably not sustainable either. Anyway, the guy meandered all over the east side, and then around midnight we crossed the Morrison Bridge.
Me: So, now you are on the right side of the river, but further from work.
WB: Well, we did turn north. And actually the guy pushed his cart all the way down First to right in front of the Randolph building.
Me: How convenient. But I know he couldn’t get in.
WB: No, but it was kind of awesome. The guy gets jacked by these two other homeless guys with a shank made out of a chicken bone. The jumped out of the bushes, flipped his cart, stabbed him with the bone, grabbed some stuff, and ran off. I ended up rolling down the sidewalk to the base of the stairs that lead up to the building.
Me: You have got to be kidding me… All this, AND he drank out of you?
WB: I did say that, yes.
Me: Still, how did you get into the building?
WB: A raccoon grabbed me and carried me up the stairs to the door and left me there. I think he got spooked by something, but didn’t see it.
Me: And then?
WB: You know Mark from accounting?
Me: Umm…vaguely.
WB: He recognized me! He picked me up on his way in that morning and put me on your desk.
Me: I mean, you are pretty dang cool, but there has to be other 32oz blue Camelbak water bottles. How did he know you were mine?
WB: I told him.
Me: You… Um, what?
WB: Yep.
Me: That’s not possible.
WB: Why not?
Me: You don’t have vocal cords. Or a mouth.
WB: This is true. But I did. Besides, I’m talking to you now aren’t I?
Me: I guess. And how are you doing that again?
WB: For me to know and you to permanently wonder about.
Me: So, I did leave you on my bumper, and not on my desk as I surmised when you were there the next day.
WB: Yep.
Me: And you ended up in the gutter, were drank from by a homeless man, carried around the city, ended up on the ground again after the fight, and were carried upstairs by a raccoon?
WB: That about covers it.
Me: Um. When was the last time you went through the dishwasher?
WB: Probably two months ago.
Me: This incident was six weeks ago.
WB: Quite astute you are.
Me: So after all that, I’ve been drinking a gallon out of you every day, thinking I just left you on the desk.
WB: Yes, you have.
Me: Why didn’t you say anything?
WB: No vocal cords, remember?
Me: I think I’m going to be sick. I might have to get tested for…stuff. I have no idea what, but this can’t be good.
WB: Hey, before you do…
Me: What?
WB: Can you toss me in the dishwasher? A little soapy hot water might be a good idea.
Me: You think?
---
What did you think? Plain silliness? Or helpful brainstorming tool? Ever done this before?
I did feel a little silly sitting down and starting this thing, but as it wore I got more and more immersed in the story that emerged. The teacher for my class suggested this would be a good method if you are in the middle of a story and get stuck, not sure what should happen next or maybe how it should happen. I can totally see that and may very well use it for that purpose.
For now, in this exercise, I just think it's a tad entertaining.
11/15/2010
Creative V. Critical
So I'm taking this writing class and one of the first lessons involves something called "free writing." The general idea is to just let your mind go, to not stop writing even if you don't have anything to say, to ignore grammar and structure, and just be creative. The thing is, I can't do that - I have to fix my spelling mistakes and form cohesive thoughts.
And that's a problem. Really. It sounds like it shouldn't be, but it kind of is. If I want to eventually write a novel I need to have the critical part of my brain allow the creative part to work some magic, without knowing what the result will be.
That's a big part of my - for the lack of a better term - block at the moment. I have ideas on pieces of this novel. I have a very vague idea of how the pieces will be intersected. However, the critical side wants more concrete pieces set down before it will allow the creative side to work. On the flip side, my creative side literally doesn't know the answers yet...so I'm at somewhat of an impasse.
I confess - I skipped the first completely open free writing exercise. I probably shouldn't, because that's where I need the help, but I've done this sort of thing before and the result has always been a useless mess. That's not discounting the exercise - that's just me feeling I could use a tiny bit of structure, just a little. Give me a topic to free write about, something with a modicum of specificity. Then I can make this work.
The second exercise did that. The topic was The Room Where You Write, and the assigment was to write two paragraphs about that, with notes to be honest, specific, and emotional. So I did, and here is the result - you tell me how I did.
But it doesn't matter - that's the point. Just let it flow, let it take you places. I don't think there are spelling mistakes, as there should be, because I fix things as I go. They say you shouldn't for this kind of exercise, but it's just how I always type, be it an article, a column, an email, or anything else.
So did I fail free writing? Am I not "letting go" enough? Possibly. However, I think it's a start, which is further than I was yesterday. And hey, that's worth something.
And just for fun, Misaki in front of her claimed chair - and the mentioned side table - rubbing her face on the floor! (No, we have no idea why she does that.)
Anyone out there ever done a free writing, stream of conciousness assignment before? Did it work for you? Did you find that it had value?
And that's a problem. Really. It sounds like it shouldn't be, but it kind of is. If I want to eventually write a novel I need to have the critical part of my brain allow the creative part to work some magic, without knowing what the result will be.
That's a big part of my - for the lack of a better term - block at the moment. I have ideas on pieces of this novel. I have a very vague idea of how the pieces will be intersected. However, the critical side wants more concrete pieces set down before it will allow the creative side to work. On the flip side, my creative side literally doesn't know the answers yet...so I'm at somewhat of an impasse.
I confess - I skipped the first completely open free writing exercise. I probably shouldn't, because that's where I need the help, but I've done this sort of thing before and the result has always been a useless mess. That's not discounting the exercise - that's just me feeling I could use a tiny bit of structure, just a little. Give me a topic to free write about, something with a modicum of specificity. Then I can make this work.
The second exercise did that. The topic was The Room Where You Write, and the assigment was to write two paragraphs about that, with notes to be honest, specific, and emotional. So I did, and here is the result - you tell me how I did.
The room where I write is on the upper floor of my home, up the stairs and down at the end of the hall. There is a cream-colored, aluminum baby gate on the entrance though we have no babies; instead, it’s to keep the distracting cats out and the dog in if that’s what we want. Inside the room are two doors, both painted the same bright white as the door form the hall and matching the trim. All of that was “natural” wood until a few years back when we decided the dull colors of our home needed some life. Then the natural went white and the white walls became a sage green, something much softer and welcoming. One door leads out to the attic, stocked with boxes of books, compact discs that have been turned into digital audio files, Christmas decorations, camping equipment we don’t use, and pretty much everything else we can’t find a better spot for. The other door leads to a closet where out-of-season jackets hang and my sports card collection waits for organization. There is one window in the room, sans covering, which lets in a fantastic amount of natural light during the day. Once the sun goes down this room is lit only by a single overhead light which isn’t nearly enough. Perhaps I should replace it with a brighter bulb, or go shopping for something else.Talk about writing a ton of words - that was 1000 of them. That's a ton for two paragraphs - yet, I probably could have written more. I didn't mention the dog toys on the floor and a few other things. For me, specifically planning two paragraphs on a subject means two distinct thoughts, yet as a I wrote I came up with multiple thoughts, and so the second paragraph ended up being quite the grammatical mess.
This room is not only where I write and surf the internet, where I organize pictures of our dog and cats, but also where my wife is currently studying for her own class, taking the steps to change her future much as I’d like to do. To that end we have two PCs sititng on a cheap, five-foot banquet table I bought 15 years ago at Office Depot before I went down to college at the University of Oregon. The “desk” is cluttered, filled with pieces of technology that don’t always get used. Two external hard drives, a networked hard drive we can both use to access digital images, the router from Verizon controlling out Internet and television access, an occasionally used heart rate monitor because my doctor thinks my blood pressure is too high (turns out, that’s only when I’m at a doctor’s office – go figure), an Oregon State coffee mug full of pens and a box knife because that makes sense, and cords going every which way to connect drives, mice, keyboards, monitors, and speakers curl around like kitten tails. Speakers, connected to my PC, also sit quietly with their sound turned off, so the only sounds in the room are the clicking of my keys and the soft whirring of the PCs. There is a greenish microsuede lounge chair in one corner of the room, one we spent a few hundred on at Dania that has been bequeathed to our queenly Shiba, Misaki, who lounges there some afternoons and evenings as we work. We placed a purple towel, quite garish in contrast, on the chair ostensibly to keep off the dog fur and protect the chair. Beside that chair is a rather modern glass and metal side table, much more modern than anything else in this room. I love the piece which is why we bought it, but where should it go? Another desk, a very old, handmade piece sits in one corner. It’s a light colored wood, built years ago by my wife’s grandfather, in what I call an antique style. Since I know nothing about woodworking, that’s the best I can do. There are drawers and rounded edges and it could use some finishing, plus it’s missing one leg. To hold it up we replaced that leg with an epic stack of World Book encyclopedias – who needs those when you have the internet? It’s quite the contrast to the side table, sitting just three feet away. A bookcase sits behind my seat, full of books one might think of as reference: travel books, dictionaries in various languages, coffee table books, and piles of magazines. The top of the bookcase has a couple manekineko figurines, lucky Japanese kitties, that I collect, with postcards from by brother-in-law’s trip to France and Spain and a picture of my wife and I from a tour of Safeco Field in Seattle. I couldn’t begin to say who took that picture a long time ago, but we are both smiling against the sun and it still turned out well. Next to the bookcase is a two-drawer metal file cabinet, also a flavor of green, but doesn’t really match the walls nor the chair in the opposite corner. An OSU Beavers mini helmet rests on top of that, my wife’s alma mater, with a stuffed Beaver. Generally the walls of the room are bare, but there is a Sharper Image digital clock on one wall, with numbers big enough to read at the opposite end of the hallway. On another wall is a Chrisian Riese Lassen calendar we flip the months on because that’s what you do, not necessarily because we use it for anything specific. There is a corkboard, also, supposedly to keep track of things, but instead it has old schedules for the Seattle Mariners and Cincinnati Bengals, a couple of postcards from places someone else went, and a Message board with no messages. No one calls us.
But it doesn't matter - that's the point. Just let it flow, let it take you places. I don't think there are spelling mistakes, as there should be, because I fix things as I go. They say you shouldn't for this kind of exercise, but it's just how I always type, be it an article, a column, an email, or anything else.
So did I fail free writing? Am I not "letting go" enough? Possibly. However, I think it's a start, which is further than I was yesterday. And hey, that's worth something.
And just for fun, Misaki in front of her claimed chair - and the mentioned side table - rubbing her face on the floor! (No, we have no idea why she does that.)
Anyone out there ever done a free writing, stream of conciousness assignment before? Did it work for you? Did you find that it had value?
11/10/2010
Class Begins Today
So while I never really got any answers to my questions about the value of online writing classes, I signed up for one anyway.
And while when I did so it seemed like the beginning was a ways out, the tricky thing about dates is anything in the future always becomes now at some point. Today is that day.
I have to be honest, I'm a little freaked out. I mean, sure, it's a community school class online through a the local community college. And no, I don't get a grade for it or really anything else other than a yes, you took it, when it's all over. No one will care if I do well or not, and in fact it's more of an exercise than anything else anyway. I will get out of it what I choose to put into it and demand of it, as little or as much as that ends up being.
Still, it freaks me out a bit. I haven't attended a class that had any meaning to me since my last week in school at the University of Oregon, which was, well, a while ago. I'm not used to being a student, I have no idea what to really expect, I don't know how an online writing class works, and inexplicably I'm sitting here wondering if what I do will be good enough.
And if it's not, by whatever standards that are either imposed on me or by me, then what?
Wifey tells me - and I will admit this is probably true - I'm putting too much pressure on myself and I will have fun and learn lots.
Intuitively I know this to be true, yet still...
It's just been a long time since I had a first day of class.
If you had asked me at my time of graduation from the green and yellow if I'd ever be back in school I would have said I doubt it. Now, over 10 years later, not only am I in class again but I'm starting to really think about it again. You know, if I could afford it and if I could make the time for it in my already very hectic schedule of working two jobs, loving my family, and doing my own writing (like this blog).
It'll probably be great, but it's that sense of the unknown, the same unknown that was always there on a first day of class, a small sense of trepidation lingering in the back of my mind, that has me being a bit cautious. Will I be able to keep up? Will anything else suffer for me to get assignments done?
Who knows. We shall see.
At least my family is rooting for me!
Thanks pups! So to my wife, the dog, the cats, and everyone else who has offered the encouragement, let's see what happens next.
And while when I did so it seemed like the beginning was a ways out, the tricky thing about dates is anything in the future always becomes now at some point. Today is that day.
I have to be honest, I'm a little freaked out. I mean, sure, it's a community school class online through a the local community college. And no, I don't get a grade for it or really anything else other than a yes, you took it, when it's all over. No one will care if I do well or not, and in fact it's more of an exercise than anything else anyway. I will get out of it what I choose to put into it and demand of it, as little or as much as that ends up being.
Still, it freaks me out a bit. I haven't attended a class that had any meaning to me since my last week in school at the University of Oregon, which was, well, a while ago. I'm not used to being a student, I have no idea what to really expect, I don't know how an online writing class works, and inexplicably I'm sitting here wondering if what I do will be good enough.
And if it's not, by whatever standards that are either imposed on me or by me, then what?
Wifey tells me - and I will admit this is probably true - I'm putting too much pressure on myself and I will have fun and learn lots.
Intuitively I know this to be true, yet still...
It's just been a long time since I had a first day of class.
If you had asked me at my time of graduation from the green and yellow if I'd ever be back in school I would have said I doubt it. Now, over 10 years later, not only am I in class again but I'm starting to really think about it again. You know, if I could afford it and if I could make the time for it in my already very hectic schedule of working two jobs, loving my family, and doing my own writing (like this blog).
It'll probably be great, but it's that sense of the unknown, the same unknown that was always there on a first day of class, a small sense of trepidation lingering in the back of my mind, that has me being a bit cautious. Will I be able to keep up? Will anything else suffer for me to get assignments done?
Who knows. We shall see.
At least my family is rooting for me!
Misaki says "Ganbatte Dad!"
Thanks pups! So to my wife, the dog, the cats, and everyone else who has offered the encouragement, let's see what happens next.
10/14/2010
Gotta Get It Right
For me as a writer my number one guideline is believability. I, as the writer, have to make you, as the reader, believe in the reality I am creating. If for some reason I fail to do that the reader will take notice - perhaps only subconciously - and they won't have as enjoyable a reading experience.
That doesn't mean stories have to be feasible to everyday reality - hardly. In fact, most stories are completely otherwise.
The reason a book that does so well with a cast of vampires isn't because vampires themselves are necessarily believable, but that the author has created a reality where they are. That's a foundation of the story.
To be a successful writer of fiction you have to set the stage for certain points that are reality in the story. You create the setting for these truths, you introduce the truths, and you must absolutely stay true to those foundations throughout the entire story. If at any point you step outside of those parameters, it's a failure.
Why am I bringing this up? I'm a voracious reader. I usually read a book every week to ten days, and I generally read fiction - for the most part popular fiction. Books that have been published in this arena have normally been very well edited and checked for these kinds of things, but just recently I've finished two novels where, to me, there were failures.
I won't name the authors or the titles because that's not important. Both books were enjoyable and for all other intents and purposes well written. But here's what bugged me:
1 - In one novel the reader is presented with one main character following another to a specific destination for a certain length of time. This is followed immediately afterwards by a scene where one of those characters is doing something completely different before arriving at the same final destination. After reading it twice I'm convinced these two scenes were meant for the same section of time in the book, almost as if one should have been cut; or it should have been re-worked to be better integrated with the timeline or along a different timeline.
To me this is a failure of editing. As someone who writes I can see missing this, though I would hope I would catch it myself. Then, it should have been flagged in the process before publishing. The end result is the reader is left confused - no longer am I enjoying the story but I'm asking myself what the hell just happened?
If I ever get published and something like that happened to me, I'd be thoroughly mortified.
2 - In another novel the reader is given a reality where much of the story happens in flashbacks. The father is telling the daughter a long forgotten tale involving the disappearance of her mother. At first the flashbacks are presented in short, one-on-one conversations, but later when the father inexplicably disappears the rest of the flashback is presented as a letter written to the daughter.
The problem for me here was the letter was over 300 pages long and was presented as something written in a fairly short time, a time meant to roughly coincide with the father's planned disappearance. The "letter" was also extremely detailed, recalling conversations and minute details from 20 years previous, which also entailed scenes where scenes from 20-30 years earlier were recalled with the same detail.
Sorry, I just can't buy it. The facts were good, the story was good, the characters were good - but I couldn't buy into the concept of 50-year-old conversations being recalled clearly to the tiniest detail sans notes or anything else.
Great story, but it lost me by asking me to buy into a reality I just couldn't.
It's true my experience with this two particular novels may not be the same as someone else's. But, as a writer, I have to strive to create a reality where everything I present and everything my characters do is true to that reality and the parameters I set, be it time, place, technology, character traits, or anything else.
Last thing I want to do is end up an example in someone's blog talking about something that didn't work for them.
Characters have to follow the same rules. When a writer presents a character to the reader s/he is given certain characterstics, certain truths - if the character then does something much later in the book that seem incongruent with how a character was presented, it's going to catch a reader's attention and detract from the enjoyment of the story.
I've also found myself more and more looking at these types of things critically as I read. Part of me is learning how to be better at the craft of writing, while part of me is also looking for things I perceive as failures in order to not make the same mistakes.
Before it was just reading for enjoyment; now it's just as much research - but in a good way.
This are the things that keep me awake at night - or might anyway, if I got more than five hours of sleep.
Any other writers out there read like this? Or have any other examples of something in a book that really lost you as a reader?
That doesn't mean stories have to be feasible to everyday reality - hardly. In fact, most stories are completely otherwise.
The reason a book that does so well with a cast of vampires isn't because vampires themselves are necessarily believable, but that the author has created a reality where they are. That's a foundation of the story.
To be a successful writer of fiction you have to set the stage for certain points that are reality in the story. You create the setting for these truths, you introduce the truths, and you must absolutely stay true to those foundations throughout the entire story. If at any point you step outside of those parameters, it's a failure.
Why am I bringing this up? I'm a voracious reader. I usually read a book every week to ten days, and I generally read fiction - for the most part popular fiction. Books that have been published in this arena have normally been very well edited and checked for these kinds of things, but just recently I've finished two novels where, to me, there were failures.
I won't name the authors or the titles because that's not important. Both books were enjoyable and for all other intents and purposes well written. But here's what bugged me:
1 - In one novel the reader is presented with one main character following another to a specific destination for a certain length of time. This is followed immediately afterwards by a scene where one of those characters is doing something completely different before arriving at the same final destination. After reading it twice I'm convinced these two scenes were meant for the same section of time in the book, almost as if one should have been cut; or it should have been re-worked to be better integrated with the timeline or along a different timeline.
To me this is a failure of editing. As someone who writes I can see missing this, though I would hope I would catch it myself. Then, it should have been flagged in the process before publishing. The end result is the reader is left confused - no longer am I enjoying the story but I'm asking myself what the hell just happened?
If I ever get published and something like that happened to me, I'd be thoroughly mortified.
2 - In another novel the reader is given a reality where much of the story happens in flashbacks. The father is telling the daughter a long forgotten tale involving the disappearance of her mother. At first the flashbacks are presented in short, one-on-one conversations, but later when the father inexplicably disappears the rest of the flashback is presented as a letter written to the daughter.
The problem for me here was the letter was over 300 pages long and was presented as something written in a fairly short time, a time meant to roughly coincide with the father's planned disappearance. The "letter" was also extremely detailed, recalling conversations and minute details from 20 years previous, which also entailed scenes where scenes from 20-30 years earlier were recalled with the same detail.
Sorry, I just can't buy it. The facts were good, the story was good, the characters were good - but I couldn't buy into the concept of 50-year-old conversations being recalled clearly to the tiniest detail sans notes or anything else.
Great story, but it lost me by asking me to buy into a reality I just couldn't.
It's true my experience with this two particular novels may not be the same as someone else's. But, as a writer, I have to strive to create a reality where everything I present and everything my characters do is true to that reality and the parameters I set, be it time, place, technology, character traits, or anything else.
Last thing I want to do is end up an example in someone's blog talking about something that didn't work for them.
Characters have to follow the same rules. When a writer presents a character to the reader s/he is given certain characterstics, certain truths - if the character then does something much later in the book that seem incongruent with how a character was presented, it's going to catch a reader's attention and detract from the enjoyment of the story.
I've also found myself more and more looking at these types of things critically as I read. Part of me is learning how to be better at the craft of writing, while part of me is also looking for things I perceive as failures in order to not make the same mistakes.
Before it was just reading for enjoyment; now it's just as much research - but in a good way.
This are the things that keep me awake at night - or might anyway, if I got more than five hours of sleep.
Any other writers out there read like this? Or have any other examples of something in a book that really lost you as a reader?
10/13/2010
Is There Value in Online Writing Classes?
I don't know the answer to this, so I figured I'd ask, well, the world.
I like to consider myself a writer but have had very little actual training. At the same time I'm in the group who doesn't believe training is a necessity to being a good writer. Grammar and structure, sure, but I have a strong belief some people just are better at it than others and innately grasp the concepts quicker. I also think good writers can be developed - I've seen it happen.
Writing has always been something I've just done. Other than English assigments I didn't do much of it all until my senior English class when we were given the opportunity to write whatever we wanted. I liked it and was given positive feedback that I should do it more. When I was in college I kept a journal during my summer in Italy, the only time I've ever done that (well, until this blog). When I got back to the University of Oregon I signed up for a Creative Writing class and had a blast - probably the most fun I had in a class in college.
Of course, it was fall term of my senior year, so it was a little late to really change my focus without spending much longer (and much more money) in college, and I was ready to be done. I received positive feedback from peers and the teacher there as well. Keep writing, I was encouraged.
Since then I have done that, but it's been mostly sportswriting - again, until this blog. I haven't really done much at all in the fiction space, which is where I'd like to move into.
The local community college offers online writing workshops. A little lost with exactly where to begin this fictioin odyssey, I'm thinking it might be interesting and helpful. Perhaps I'll get a better feel of where to begin, which seems to be my problem. It might also force me to plan things better, to set myself up with a schedule.
I know some other writers have taken community college workshops and found benefit. Is it worth it? What about the online aspect - is that something I should try to avoid? What kind of time commitment did it demand?
Or is this notion of something like this a little unnecessary? I guess perhaps I'm just worried it will be too much or too little.
I think the part I'm least sure about is the online part. I've taken classes online through the day job and found them less than worthless. Conversely Wifey is taking a course right now that she is enjoying. Subject matter is going to play an important part of that, but to me I would think person to person contact would be a helpful thing. Can this be replicated online? For the price maybe it's worth it just to see how it goes.
Maybe I'm just whining - sign up already, right? I think I probably will, Wifey thinks I should - I'm just unsure as to what to really expect.
I would love to hear anyone's ideas or experiences with online (or offline) writing classes, so please, leave a comment!
I like to consider myself a writer but have had very little actual training. At the same time I'm in the group who doesn't believe training is a necessity to being a good writer. Grammar and structure, sure, but I have a strong belief some people just are better at it than others and innately grasp the concepts quicker. I also think good writers can be developed - I've seen it happen.
Writing has always been something I've just done. Other than English assigments I didn't do much of it all until my senior English class when we were given the opportunity to write whatever we wanted. I liked it and was given positive feedback that I should do it more. When I was in college I kept a journal during my summer in Italy, the only time I've ever done that (well, until this blog). When I got back to the University of Oregon I signed up for a Creative Writing class and had a blast - probably the most fun I had in a class in college.
Of course, it was fall term of my senior year, so it was a little late to really change my focus without spending much longer (and much more money) in college, and I was ready to be done. I received positive feedback from peers and the teacher there as well. Keep writing, I was encouraged.
Since then I have done that, but it's been mostly sportswriting - again, until this blog. I haven't really done much at all in the fiction space, which is where I'd like to move into.
The local community college offers online writing workshops. A little lost with exactly where to begin this fictioin odyssey, I'm thinking it might be interesting and helpful. Perhaps I'll get a better feel of where to begin, which seems to be my problem. It might also force me to plan things better, to set myself up with a schedule.
I know some other writers have taken community college workshops and found benefit. Is it worth it? What about the online aspect - is that something I should try to avoid? What kind of time commitment did it demand?
Or is this notion of something like this a little unnecessary? I guess perhaps I'm just worried it will be too much or too little.
I think the part I'm least sure about is the online part. I've taken classes online through the day job and found them less than worthless. Conversely Wifey is taking a course right now that she is enjoying. Subject matter is going to play an important part of that, but to me I would think person to person contact would be a helpful thing. Can this be replicated online? For the price maybe it's worth it just to see how it goes.
Maybe I'm just whining - sign up already, right? I think I probably will, Wifey thinks I should - I'm just unsure as to what to really expect.
I would love to hear anyone's ideas or experiences with online (or offline) writing classes, so please, leave a comment!
9/16/2010
Writers and the Library
I'm a confessed lover of the library. I check out books there at least weekly, love the fact I can manage a list of requests online and can find pretty much anything I want, and especially love the fact that it's free.
I feel strongly libraries are good things, that they should be free, and that they should be plentiful and accessible to anyone. I'm a strong believer also that if the facilities are there people will take advantage of them and as a whole they will benefit society.
Now, that said, I also have big plans to be a writer, a novelist. And no matter what any writer tells you, they want the book they write and get published to sell well. Selling a lot of copies not only gets you a contract to write more books without having to have a real job (I don't think of it as "work"), and in the best case scenario can allow a person to live a very comfortable lifestyle. Again, ideally - for most it doesn't work out that way.
But this brings me to a bit of a dilemma. As a consumer I very, very rarely spend money on fiction. I used to, when I first got a job after college that allowed for extra money to be spent on books. I'd buy the new novels from all my favorite authors from Amazon as soon as possible, then consume quickly. And then the book would go on a shelf or in a box and probably hasn't been touched since (well, that's not true - we revamped the storage system a couple years ago, so they HAVE been touched).
I'm not the kind of person who reads books more than once. Maybe I'm not reading the books or maybe I just can't stand spending time on something when I know what happens when I could be spending that time on a new novel. There's no doubt I'll never get to all the things I would like to read, so why read something twice even if I did enjoy it immensely?
I also freely admit this is a personal quirk - a lot of people will read a book twice or more.
But it leads me back to my findings, which were I was spending $17 on a new book, reading it for a few days, and then never looking at it again. Instead, I can get on a list at the library for a new novel, receive an email when it's being held, read it and return it, and never spend a dime. Isn't that a fantastic deal?
However, I want to write a novel. Or multiple novels. I want these novels to be published and sell a million copies. I want that novel to become immensely popular. And do to that, I have an inherent expectation that people must BUY the novel. Not check it out the library.
Sure, libraries have to buy books too, but just selling to them isn't going to get me out of 90 minutes in the car every day commuting and getting up at 5:30 in the morning to avoid the worst of rush hour.
Can I ask someone to do something that is going to make my life better (hopefully) if it's not something I do myself? Can I really expect someone to buy my novel if I pimp it out at a book signing at a local bookstore, when if the tables were turned I'd probably just go to the library?
Published or non-published writers out there, what do you do? Readers, would you even care? Leave a much-appreciated comment - maybe I'm overthinking things (and getting way ahead of myself since, you know, I haven't even started...).
I feel strongly libraries are good things, that they should be free, and that they should be plentiful and accessible to anyone. I'm a strong believer also that if the facilities are there people will take advantage of them and as a whole they will benefit society.
Now, that said, I also have big plans to be a writer, a novelist. And no matter what any writer tells you, they want the book they write and get published to sell well. Selling a lot of copies not only gets you a contract to write more books without having to have a real job (I don't think of it as "work"), and in the best case scenario can allow a person to live a very comfortable lifestyle. Again, ideally - for most it doesn't work out that way.
But this brings me to a bit of a dilemma. As a consumer I very, very rarely spend money on fiction. I used to, when I first got a job after college that allowed for extra money to be spent on books. I'd buy the new novels from all my favorite authors from Amazon as soon as possible, then consume quickly. And then the book would go on a shelf or in a box and probably hasn't been touched since (well, that's not true - we revamped the storage system a couple years ago, so they HAVE been touched).
I'm not the kind of person who reads books more than once. Maybe I'm not reading the books or maybe I just can't stand spending time on something when I know what happens when I could be spending that time on a new novel. There's no doubt I'll never get to all the things I would like to read, so why read something twice even if I did enjoy it immensely?
I also freely admit this is a personal quirk - a lot of people will read a book twice or more.
But it leads me back to my findings, which were I was spending $17 on a new book, reading it for a few days, and then never looking at it again. Instead, I can get on a list at the library for a new novel, receive an email when it's being held, read it and return it, and never spend a dime. Isn't that a fantastic deal?
However, I want to write a novel. Or multiple novels. I want these novels to be published and sell a million copies. I want that novel to become immensely popular. And do to that, I have an inherent expectation that people must BUY the novel. Not check it out the library.
Sure, libraries have to buy books too, but just selling to them isn't going to get me out of 90 minutes in the car every day commuting and getting up at 5:30 in the morning to avoid the worst of rush hour.
Can I ask someone to do something that is going to make my life better (hopefully) if it's not something I do myself? Can I really expect someone to buy my novel if I pimp it out at a book signing at a local bookstore, when if the tables were turned I'd probably just go to the library?
Published or non-published writers out there, what do you do? Readers, would you even care? Leave a much-appreciated comment - maybe I'm overthinking things (and getting way ahead of myself since, you know, I haven't even started...).
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