Today, I'm posting on "Writing Explicitly" at Kate Elliott's blog - visit, comment!
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Top Posts from 2010 (so far)
I like playing with the tracking on my blog sometimes. Here are the most popular posts on this blog, by month, for 2010 so far. It's very interesting to see which posts seem to be of more general interest.
January: Tell Not Show, a writing craft post.
February: My Favorite Girls Dressed As Boys (Fantasy Edition), which continues to get visits along with its companion post from September 2009, The Romance Edition.
March: Why Not 20th Century Historicals? The first view of the Alison's Wonderland cover was close behind. People like pretty pictures!
April: Slow Writers Anonymous. Author Gwynne Garfinkle's post on Researching the 1970s was close behind.
May: Combined posts (the Brontë tag) on my reread of Jane Eyre. Various individual posts on that set were also in the top ten for the month.
June: Evie Byrne's guest post on On the Female Vampire.
July: Eroticism in To Have & To Hold by Patricia Gaffney.
The top posts for August were news rather than topical posts: my announcement that I was writing a steampunk Western, and my reports on the 2010 RWA Conference.
If you had a different favorite, let me know in comments!
January: Tell Not Show, a writing craft post.
February: My Favorite Girls Dressed As Boys (Fantasy Edition), which continues to get visits along with its companion post from September 2009, The Romance Edition.
March: Why Not 20th Century Historicals? The first view of the Alison's Wonderland cover was close behind. People like pretty pictures!
April: Slow Writers Anonymous. Author Gwynne Garfinkle's post on Researching the 1970s was close behind.
May: Combined posts (the Brontë tag) on my reread of Jane Eyre. Various individual posts on that set were also in the top ten for the month.
June: Evie Byrne's guest post on On the Female Vampire.
July: Eroticism in To Have & To Hold by Patricia Gaffney.
The top posts for August were news rather than topical posts: my announcement that I was writing a steampunk Western, and my reports on the 2010 RWA Conference.
If you had a different favorite, let me know in comments!
Monday, August 30, 2010
Rear, meet seat; fingers, meet keyboard.
One of my favorite pithy sayings about writing is “ass in chair, fingers on keyboard.” It’s short and to the point. Unless you write standing up, or perhaps sitting on a rubber doughnut, it’s pretty standard for a writer to sit in a chair and write. You can’t write while roaming the streets or hurtling off a diving board or driving, or rather you shouldn’t because that could lead to injury.
Side note: If you think texting while driving is bad, I knew someone who used to write while driving. He kept a little notebook on his leg and when he was stuck in traffic, he would scribble down humorous verse.
Back on topic. It sounds so simple, doesn’t it? “Ass in chair. Fingers on keyboard.” For me, the hard thing about accomplishing that task is not sitting, but eliminating the things that prevent me from sitting. If I’m trying to sit near a basket of dirty laundry or similar, that visible sign of Things To Do That Are Not Writing can be very distracting. I have to either leave the house, perhaps for a coffee shop where cleanup is not my responsbility, or perhaps mentally schedule that load of laundry for later: after I’ve written for two hours, after I’ve written a thousand words, at 7:00 pm, tomorrow afternoon.
Then comes moving my fingers on the keyboard. I move on to another pithy quote to tell how to accomplish this:
"Throw up into your typewriter every morning. Clean up every noon." --Raymond Chandler
Another version of this quote, which has numerous sources, is "Don't be afraid to let yourself write shit." Just because the story isn’t yet perfect doesn’t mean you get out of working until it's as perfect as it can be. There aren't any shortcuts to accomplishing this task.
Except, perhaps, ass in chair. Because the sooner you start, the sooner you’ll be done.
"I hate writing. I love having written." --Dorothy Parker
Related posts:
Writing Elsewhere.
Finish it.
How To Write a Novel (in 72 Easy Steps!)
Side note: If you think texting while driving is bad, I knew someone who used to write while driving. He kept a little notebook on his leg and when he was stuck in traffic, he would scribble down humorous verse.
Back on topic. It sounds so simple, doesn’t it? “Ass in chair. Fingers on keyboard.” For me, the hard thing about accomplishing that task is not sitting, but eliminating the things that prevent me from sitting. If I’m trying to sit near a basket of dirty laundry or similar, that visible sign of Things To Do That Are Not Writing can be very distracting. I have to either leave the house, perhaps for a coffee shop where cleanup is not my responsbility, or perhaps mentally schedule that load of laundry for later: after I’ve written for two hours, after I’ve written a thousand words, at 7:00 pm, tomorrow afternoon.
Then comes moving my fingers on the keyboard. I move on to another pithy quote to tell how to accomplish this:
"Throw up into your typewriter every morning. Clean up every noon." --Raymond Chandler
Another version of this quote, which has numerous sources, is "Don't be afraid to let yourself write shit." Just because the story isn’t yet perfect doesn’t mean you get out of working until it's as perfect as it can be. There aren't any shortcuts to accomplishing this task.
Except, perhaps, ass in chair. Because the sooner you start, the sooner you’ll be done.
"I hate writing. I love having written." --Dorothy Parker
Related posts:
Writing Elsewhere.
Finish it.
How To Write a Novel (in 72 Easy Steps!)
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Writing for Women, Writing for Men
I read about a workshop at the RWA Conference whose topic, I think, was writing for women versus writing for men. I didn't attend, so the actual title didn't stick in my mind. However, it sparked thoughts, and I of course had to pour those thoughts into a blog post. With a hot picture of Josephine Baker wearing a top hat.
I write for women. At least I think I do. The line that publishes my novels, Harlequin Spice, is aimed at a female audience, so by default that says I write for women, right? I'm not sure what that means, exactly, beyond "books most women will like," which to me also suggests "books some men will also like."
I've had reports from a few men who've read either The Duchess, Her Maid, The Groom and Their Lover or The Moonlight Mistress or both. Most have been boyfriends or husbands of female friends who'd bought the book. All of the men whom I've heard from, about five, so it's not a large sample, have liked the books; most commented not only on the stories, but on the erotica. They commented very favorably on the erotica; more so than some female readers who told me they were uncomfortable with the language I used.
I didn't really expect to hear anything from male readers, especially not that they'd liked the sex scenes. Possible factors include 1) these particular men like reading erotica in general, and are willing to talk about it; 2) my direct language in the sex scenes appeals to men; and 3) they were just being nice.
I don't really have any conclusions. Though I do wonder how I might market my books more effectively across genders.
Thoughts? Comments?
I write for women. At least I think I do. The line that publishes my novels, Harlequin Spice, is aimed at a female audience, so by default that says I write for women, right? I'm not sure what that means, exactly, beyond "books most women will like," which to me also suggests "books some men will also like."
I've had reports from a few men who've read either The Duchess, Her Maid, The Groom and Their Lover or The Moonlight Mistress or both. Most have been boyfriends or husbands of female friends who'd bought the book. All of the men whom I've heard from, about five, so it's not a large sample, have liked the books; most commented not only on the stories, but on the erotica. They commented very favorably on the erotica; more so than some female readers who told me they were uncomfortable with the language I used.
I didn't really expect to hear anything from male readers, especially not that they'd liked the sex scenes. Possible factors include 1) these particular men like reading erotica in general, and are willing to talk about it; 2) my direct language in the sex scenes appeals to men; and 3) they were just being nice.
I don't really have any conclusions. Though I do wonder how I might market my books more effectively across genders.
Thoughts? Comments?
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Under Flowerpots, Mostly
This post was originally written for Savvy Authors.
It makes me chortle when people ask writers “Where do you get your ideas?” Because where does anyone get ideas? And what kind of ideas do they mean when they ask?
I probably shouldn’t laugh, because most of the time, that question generates really interesting answers.
What’s my answer? I find my ideas under flowerpots, mostly. And by that I mean I have to reach down into places where I don’t normally look, where composting is going on. To me, ideas are combinations of seeds or, wrenching away from my very stretched flowerpot analogy, sparks.
A spark will make something in my brain go "That's interesting!" or "yes!" but it isn’t a story. It doesn’t generally have inherent conflict, so it can’t be a story. It’s when that spark meets another, and maybe several others (it's like fire!), that ideas begin to form.
(If I’m confusing you, well, that’s not unusual for me! Sometimes, when I’m trying to explain something I’m writing, I’m reduced to waving my hands around and making noises like “shunk” and “zhirrr.”)
How I get ideas is not a wholly, or even mostly, conscious process for me. But I’ll try to explain.
Here’s an example, using a story that is only partially written. I decide to write a story about a young woman and a much older man. That’s the spark, which might have come from a call for submissions, or just brainstorming a list of setups for stories; I can’t remember any more. Later, it occurs to me that the thing they have in common is a love of baseball, which is another spark. Still later, those sparks begin to overlap and make more sparks, such as maybe the man was a minor league baseball player and the woman’s mother was obsessed with him at the time, and this leads to emotional complications separate from their original relationship that create conflict and also works thematically with the May-December romance in some way. Eventually, all those sparks reach a state of density that means I have enough Idea to make a story. Anybody could use those same sparks, but they would always come up with a different idea from them, and subsequently a completely different story.
The story I wrote for Alison's Wonderland, "The Princess," is very, very short: it's only one hundred words long. But it still had more than one spark. The sparks for that story include: gender role reversal; the story of Andromeda; stereotypical princesses; and surprise ending. The combination of sparks is what makes the story unique, and mine.
I have learned something from writing this post. What I have learned is that I’m not very good at dissecting where I get my ideas!
Actually, that’s a good insight. It means that I really do find my ideas under flowerpots. For me, that works. And since one of the major rules of writing is do what works, I'll take it.
What works for you when you’re looking for ideas?
It makes me chortle when people ask writers “Where do you get your ideas?” Because where does anyone get ideas? And what kind of ideas do they mean when they ask?
I probably shouldn’t laugh, because most of the time, that question generates really interesting answers.
What’s my answer? I find my ideas under flowerpots, mostly. And by that I mean I have to reach down into places where I don’t normally look, where composting is going on. To me, ideas are combinations of seeds or, wrenching away from my very stretched flowerpot analogy, sparks.
A spark will make something in my brain go "That's interesting!" or "yes!" but it isn’t a story. It doesn’t generally have inherent conflict, so it can’t be a story. It’s when that spark meets another, and maybe several others (it's like fire!), that ideas begin to form.
(If I’m confusing you, well, that’s not unusual for me! Sometimes, when I’m trying to explain something I’m writing, I’m reduced to waving my hands around and making noises like “shunk” and “zhirrr.”)
How I get ideas is not a wholly, or even mostly, conscious process for me. But I’ll try to explain.
Here’s an example, using a story that is only partially written. I decide to write a story about a young woman and a much older man. That’s the spark, which might have come from a call for submissions, or just brainstorming a list of setups for stories; I can’t remember any more. Later, it occurs to me that the thing they have in common is a love of baseball, which is another spark. Still later, those sparks begin to overlap and make more sparks, such as maybe the man was a minor league baseball player and the woman’s mother was obsessed with him at the time, and this leads to emotional complications separate from their original relationship that create conflict and also works thematically with the May-December romance in some way. Eventually, all those sparks reach a state of density that means I have enough Idea to make a story. Anybody could use those same sparks, but they would always come up with a different idea from them, and subsequently a completely different story.
The story I wrote for Alison's Wonderland, "The Princess," is very, very short: it's only one hundred words long. But it still had more than one spark. The sparks for that story include: gender role reversal; the story of Andromeda; stereotypical princesses; and surprise ending. The combination of sparks is what makes the story unique, and mine.
I have learned something from writing this post. What I have learned is that I’m not very good at dissecting where I get my ideas!
Actually, that’s a good insight. It means that I really do find my ideas under flowerpots. For me, that works. And since one of the major rules of writing is do what works, I'll take it.
What works for you when you’re looking for ideas?
Monday, July 26, 2010
Five Blogging Inspirations
Never run out of things to blog about! Order inspiration by phone for only $19.95!
1. Blog about My Five Favorite.... This could be your five favorite romance novel plots, or your five favorite movies of all time, or your five favorite reviews of your work, or anything really. I'm doing that right now. *cue Twilight Zone theme* ...I suppose you could also do "My Six Favorite..." or "My Seventeen Favorite...."
2. Blog about your News. Don't have any? Are you sure? You don't have to have made a recent sale. You can blog about the accomplishment of finishing writing a story. Or finishing reading a book. Or passing your driver's test. Or finding topics to blog about. It's okay to write about something other than your writing or reading every once in a while.
3. Be inspired by pictures. Collect a folder of pictures, either print or digital, and use them to get you started. Bonus points if you include the picture in the post.
4. Use the Headline technique. Visit CNN.com or any site that has lots of headlines (this also works with magazine covers). Choose some headlines that appeal to you. The object isn't to comment directly on the headlines, but to see how you can make the ideas or topic of them relate to your writing and/or reading.
5. Post links. You know all those useful links you've been collecting? Post them, preferably in some sort of topic-related group, or with commentary that helps link (heh) them together. You won't be the only one who thinks they're useful.
Suggestions?
Related Post:
Writers Never Run Out of Blog Topics.
1. Blog about My Five Favorite.... This could be your five favorite romance novel plots, or your five favorite movies of all time, or your five favorite reviews of your work, or anything really. I'm doing that right now. *cue Twilight Zone theme* ...I suppose you could also do "My Six Favorite..." or "My Seventeen Favorite...."
2. Blog about your News. Don't have any? Are you sure? You don't have to have made a recent sale. You can blog about the accomplishment of finishing writing a story. Or finishing reading a book. Or passing your driver's test. Or finding topics to blog about. It's okay to write about something other than your writing or reading every once in a while.
3. Be inspired by pictures. Collect a folder of pictures, either print or digital, and use them to get you started. Bonus points if you include the picture in the post.
4. Use the Headline technique. Visit CNN.com or any site that has lots of headlines (this also works with magazine covers). Choose some headlines that appeal to you. The object isn't to comment directly on the headlines, but to see how you can make the ideas or topic of them relate to your writing and/or reading.
5. Post links. You know all those useful links you've been collecting? Post them, preferably in some sort of topic-related group, or with commentary that helps link (heh) them together. You won't be the only one who thinks they're useful.
Suggestions?
Related Post:
Writers Never Run Out of Blog Topics.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
How To Begin Writing blah blah blah
I've been rooting around in my backbrain trying to figure out how I begin writing a new story. I mean the writing part, not the coming up with ideas part.
These days, since I've been writing novels to deadline, it's easy to tell when I'm going to start a new story. I start the new story after the old story is finished. The subject of my story is dictated by what I've discussed with my editor already: "it's a sequel" or "it's a paranormal historical." I turn in a synopsis and perhaps chapters before I officially begin writing the book, so I've started before I've started, if that makes any sense. There's always the chance I'll have to abandon one idea and choose another that's more to the publisher's liking (which happened for book two of my first contract). I'm okay with that, since the publisher is the one paying for my novel.
Blah, blah, blah. The content of this post is actually reflecting my process in beginning a new story. I ramble a lot. I might have an idea, but the idea isn't the story. I don't really count the story as begun until I've actually written a scene, until there are words on my computer screen or in my notebook. The characters, the setting, the story itself aren't a thing to me until they're out of my head and in the world.
When I sit down with a blank page in front of me, it can be terrifying. So unless I've had an opening sentence in my head for days, I just...begin. With blah, blah, blah.
These days, since I've been writing novels to deadline, it's easy to tell when I'm going to start a new story. I start the new story after the old story is finished. The subject of my story is dictated by what I've discussed with my editor already: "it's a sequel" or "it's a paranormal historical." I turn in a synopsis and perhaps chapters before I officially begin writing the book, so I've started before I've started, if that makes any sense. There's always the chance I'll have to abandon one idea and choose another that's more to the publisher's liking (which happened for book two of my first contract). I'm okay with that, since the publisher is the one paying for my novel.
Blah, blah, blah. The content of this post is actually reflecting my process in beginning a new story. I ramble a lot. I might have an idea, but the idea isn't the story. I don't really count the story as begun until I've actually written a scene, until there are words on my computer screen or in my notebook. The characters, the setting, the story itself aren't a thing to me until they're out of my head and in the world.
When I sit down with a blank page in front of me, it can be terrifying. So unless I've had an opening sentence in my head for days, I just...begin. With blah, blah, blah.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Brenda Shaughnessy, "Miracles"
Miracles
I spent the whole day
crying and writing, until
they became the same,
as when the planet covers the sun
with all its might and still
I can see it; or when one dead
body gives its heart
to a name on a list. A match.
A light. Sailing a signal
flare behind me for another to find.
A scratch on the page
is a supernatural act, one twisting
fire out of water, blood out of stone.
We can read us. We are not alone.
— Brenda Shaughnessy
The Nation 290:24, June 21, 2010
Thanks to T., who brought this poem to my attention.
I spent the whole day
crying and writing, until
they became the same,
as when the planet covers the sun
with all its might and still
I can see it; or when one dead
body gives its heart
to a name on a list. A match.
A light. Sailing a signal
flare behind me for another to find.
A scratch on the page
is a supernatural act, one twisting
fire out of water, blood out of stone.
We can read us. We are not alone.
— Brenda Shaughnessy
The Nation 290:24, June 21, 2010
Thanks to T., who brought this poem to my attention.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Reading our Grandmothers
Jessica of Read React Review, one of my favorite blogs, recently mentioned that she had never read Jane Eyre and had decided to do so. I and several others volunteered to read or reread it along with her. I'll be posting on my re-read Friday, May 14th through Sunday, May 16th, and hopefully will manage to put in links to some of the other posts, as well, as they appear - Jessica's post is now scheduled for Sunday, May 23rd.
Because of the re-read, I started thinking about "the classics." I'm not going to try to define "classics." That way lies madness. Instead, I'm going to muse on the idea of there being "classic" romance novels; or maybe I should call them "precursors." Pamela is often cited, and Pride and Prejudice, and of course Jane Eyre. Why are these important to modern romance readers and writers?
To me, Jane Eyre doesn't fit the formula of the modern romance novel; if I had to slot it into a modern literary genre, I'd choose women's fiction instead, because in addition to Jane's relationship with Edward Rochester, the book includes complex relationships with her family, in more than one iteration. Rochester gets a lot of press, but the book is not about him, it's about Jane. (And Gothic romance, and social commentary, and feminism, etc..)
However, fitting into modern genre conventions has nothing to do with why these precursors are important. To me, as a writer, a large part of their importance relates to the genre tropes that modern romances have in common with these books. Certain plot elements in precursor books still resonate today, and are still being used and recreated. How many modern romance novels include the hero and heroine misunderstanding each other, as in Pride and Prejudice, or falling in love without realizing their beloved has a major secret, as in Jane Eyre? Or Byronic heroes, like Jane Eyre? (She's more of one than Edward Rochester, I think. She's so tormented and angry and prone to dark fits of the soul!)
Writers keep using these novels' ideas, reinterpreting them and dialoguing with them. Reading precursors, and also reading their modern descendents, to me is a form of conversation, us in the now with our sisters/mothers in the past (or fathers, in the case of Pamela). If you haven't read these novels, you can't follow the conversations. Reading them is as important as talking to a grandmother.
Among the classics I've never read are Wuthering Heights and Fanny Burney's Evelina. Evelina will probably be the next precursor I read, though it will probably be awhile before I get to it. How about you? What precursors/classics do you love, or have never read, or would like to read?
Related post:
Reading for the Writer.
Because of the re-read, I started thinking about "the classics." I'm not going to try to define "classics." That way lies madness. Instead, I'm going to muse on the idea of there being "classic" romance novels; or maybe I should call them "precursors." Pamela is often cited, and Pride and Prejudice, and of course Jane Eyre. Why are these important to modern romance readers and writers?
To me, Jane Eyre doesn't fit the formula of the modern romance novel; if I had to slot it into a modern literary genre, I'd choose women's fiction instead, because in addition to Jane's relationship with Edward Rochester, the book includes complex relationships with her family, in more than one iteration. Rochester gets a lot of press, but the book is not about him, it's about Jane. (And Gothic romance, and social commentary, and feminism, etc..)
However, fitting into modern genre conventions has nothing to do with why these precursors are important. To me, as a writer, a large part of their importance relates to the genre tropes that modern romances have in common with these books. Certain plot elements in precursor books still resonate today, and are still being used and recreated. How many modern romance novels include the hero and heroine misunderstanding each other, as in Pride and Prejudice, or falling in love without realizing their beloved has a major secret, as in Jane Eyre? Or Byronic heroes, like Jane Eyre? (She's more of one than Edward Rochester, I think. She's so tormented and angry and prone to dark fits of the soul!)
Writers keep using these novels' ideas, reinterpreting them and dialoguing with them. Reading precursors, and also reading their modern descendents, to me is a form of conversation, us in the now with our sisters/mothers in the past (or fathers, in the case of Pamela). If you haven't read these novels, you can't follow the conversations. Reading them is as important as talking to a grandmother.
Among the classics I've never read are Wuthering Heights and Fanny Burney's Evelina. Evelina will probably be the next precursor I read, though it will probably be awhile before I get to it. How about you? What precursors/classics do you love, or have never read, or would like to read?
Related post:
Reading for the Writer.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Sex for the Oppositional
I'm sure I've seen another discussion, somewhere on the Internet at somewhen, a discussion of villains and sex. If I could remember where or when, I would hunt it up and post the links for your reading pleasure. But since I can't, I'll just ramble in my usual fashion.
The villain of a story doesn't necessarily need to be Evil. They usually have more depth if they're like everyone else, and don't think of themselves as bad. There are villains in romance novels, and in erotica. Often, if the villian has sex, it's not ordinary sex. It's evil sex. Or cruel sex. Or sex that just isn't very good.
Is that fair? No, it is not.
Villains--or perhaps we should call them "Oppositional Characters"--need love more than the main pairing who are, after all, guaranteed a happy ending most of the time.
I know you're asking, "What can I do? How can I help these poor, lonely characters?"
You don't need to invite them into your home, or even donate money. Simply give them a chance! Or at the very least, a nice new sex toy that they and their partners will enjoy. Let these characters find a little tenderness as they strive to destroy the protagonist's happiness, or the world. Remember, Oppositional Characters need love, too.
The villain of a story doesn't necessarily need to be Evil. They usually have more depth if they're like everyone else, and don't think of themselves as bad. There are villains in romance novels, and in erotica. Often, if the villian has sex, it's not ordinary sex. It's evil sex. Or cruel sex. Or sex that just isn't very good.
Is that fair? No, it is not.
Villains--or perhaps we should call them "Oppositional Characters"--need love more than the main pairing who are, after all, guaranteed a happy ending most of the time.
I know you're asking, "What can I do? How can I help these poor, lonely characters?"
You don't need to invite them into your home, or even donate money. Simply give them a chance! Or at the very least, a nice new sex toy that they and their partners will enjoy. Let these characters find a little tenderness as they strive to destroy the protagonist's happiness, or the world. Remember, Oppositional Characters need love, too.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Slow Writers Anonymous
At the 2003 WisCon, there was a panel about "Slow Writers." I've been thinking about it again, and thought it would be a good thing to post in my blog.
This post is comprised of my distilled memories of the panel.
Everybody works differently, and everybody is right.
There are at least two kinds of slow writers: those who write a tiny bit consistently, and those who just don't write very often. Combinations of the two are also common.
Most writers want to increase their productivity.
There's a difference between writing and typing that can affect our perceptions of how fast we write. For example, some people plot out an entire story in their heads, spending many months reworking it, and then type the whole thing in a day. Some people count the thinking period as writing time, some do not. Some think on paper or computer screen, some don't.
A lot of the pressure to be a faster writer comes from having to market your work. Karen Fowler said (I paraphrase), "You have to finish your book before all the booksellers who've heard of you are dead."
Methods used by panelists and audience to try and speed their writing, some of which were used to make themselves write anything at all, were varied.
Some of what follows came from the Slow Writers panel, some from comments at the Living Room event I attended with Ellen Kushner and Delia Sherman.
One writer found the pressure of having a contract for her novel helped her to finish it; being accountable to someone else for pages produced helped many people, but not all. Others said finishing a book for which they already held a contract was more difficult, because they felt they were forcing themselves to go faster than normal.
Keeping a journal was mentioned by more than one person (for example, Peg Kerr) as a way to keep track not only of daily word count but of daily thoughts and feelings about the work; one can go back and see that one always gets depressed around page 200 of a manuscript.
Candas Dorsey said that she has often used old reviews or commentary on her work to give herself a boost when she felt discouraged about her progress.
Some can only write a story in chronological sequence, so when they are stuck, they must often retreat before they can go on. Others wrote various scenes and then connected them later, so if they got stuck, they could just move on to another scene.
A related strategy I myself have used, and that was described in the panel, is to always have more than one project going. If one project needs more thought, then move on to a second one, or a third.
A method to encourage productivity is setting a writing date with a friend, who may or may not also be writing. For that hour or however long, you must write, or at least stare at a page. Being responsible to another person for showing up is a good motivation; that method has worked for me. A variation used by Delia Sherman involves sending a certain number of pages to a friend on a regular basis (I think my variation on this is posting draft sections in my journal).
Some found deadlines from their critique group were helpful.
All of this was very useful, but the best thing about that panel was, I think, the validation!
This post is comprised of my distilled memories of the panel.
Everybody works differently, and everybody is right.
There are at least two kinds of slow writers: those who write a tiny bit consistently, and those who just don't write very often. Combinations of the two are also common.
Most writers want to increase their productivity.
There's a difference between writing and typing that can affect our perceptions of how fast we write. For example, some people plot out an entire story in their heads, spending many months reworking it, and then type the whole thing in a day. Some people count the thinking period as writing time, some do not. Some think on paper or computer screen, some don't.
A lot of the pressure to be a faster writer comes from having to market your work. Karen Fowler said (I paraphrase), "You have to finish your book before all the booksellers who've heard of you are dead."
Methods used by panelists and audience to try and speed their writing, some of which were used to make themselves write anything at all, were varied.
Some of what follows came from the Slow Writers panel, some from comments at the Living Room event I attended with Ellen Kushner and Delia Sherman.
One writer found the pressure of having a contract for her novel helped her to finish it; being accountable to someone else for pages produced helped many people, but not all. Others said finishing a book for which they already held a contract was more difficult, because they felt they were forcing themselves to go faster than normal.
Keeping a journal was mentioned by more than one person (for example, Peg Kerr) as a way to keep track not only of daily word count but of daily thoughts and feelings about the work; one can go back and see that one always gets depressed around page 200 of a manuscript.
Candas Dorsey said that she has often used old reviews or commentary on her work to give herself a boost when she felt discouraged about her progress.
Some can only write a story in chronological sequence, so when they are stuck, they must often retreat before they can go on. Others wrote various scenes and then connected them later, so if they got stuck, they could just move on to another scene.
A related strategy I myself have used, and that was described in the panel, is to always have more than one project going. If one project needs more thought, then move on to a second one, or a third.
A method to encourage productivity is setting a writing date with a friend, who may or may not also be writing. For that hour or however long, you must write, or at least stare at a page. Being responsible to another person for showing up is a good motivation; that method has worked for me. A variation used by Delia Sherman involves sending a certain number of pages to a friend on a regular basis (I think my variation on this is posting draft sections in my journal).
Some found deadlines from their critique group were helpful.
All of this was very useful, but the best thing about that panel was, I think, the validation!
Thursday, April 15, 2010
The Long and the Short of It
How do we decide a length for our stories?
I think a lot of it has to do with the stories themselves.
A friend of mine used to say that novels didn't adapt as well into feature films as short stories did, because a feature film was essentially a short story, about the Most Important Event in a person's life. If you adapt a whole novel into a feature film, you must perforce skip a lot, because novels are, in general, about the Most Important Time in a person's life. (Yes, those statements are full of generalizations, but they're still useful, I think.)
I brought up the feature film issue because to me, that explanation also tells us something about the sorts of stories that work better as shorts and those that work better as longs. Sure, some novels focus on one event, and some novels take place in very compressed time frames, but most of them follow the characters for a little while. I sometimes envision it this way: the novel as a piece of string and the short story as a little round thing in the palm of your hand. (I never said I envisioned it in a clever way....)
So I think it's important to know what your story is before you decide its length. Sometimes, one finds out what sort of story it is while writing it, and wastes a lot of time either trying to turn a short story idea into a novel, or to cram a novel idea into a short story.
Related Post:
Romance in Short.
I think a lot of it has to do with the stories themselves.
A friend of mine used to say that novels didn't adapt as well into feature films as short stories did, because a feature film was essentially a short story, about the Most Important Event in a person's life. If you adapt a whole novel into a feature film, you must perforce skip a lot, because novels are, in general, about the Most Important Time in a person's life. (Yes, those statements are full of generalizations, but they're still useful, I think.)
I brought up the feature film issue because to me, that explanation also tells us something about the sorts of stories that work better as shorts and those that work better as longs. Sure, some novels focus on one event, and some novels take place in very compressed time frames, but most of them follow the characters for a little while. I sometimes envision it this way: the novel as a piece of string and the short story as a little round thing in the palm of your hand. (I never said I envisioned it in a clever way....)
So I think it's important to know what your story is before you decide its length. Sometimes, one finds out what sort of story it is while writing it, and wastes a lot of time either trying to turn a short story idea into a novel, or to cram a novel idea into a short story.
Related Post:
Romance in Short.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Turn Your Writing Topsy-Turvy
In Jane Yolen's Take Joy: A Writer's Guide to Loving the Craft
, she writes, "When we force ourselves to go topsy-turvy, we can see anew what is on the page," (p. 49).
She suggests taking a single chapter and re-reading the whole thing while changing the gender of the characters, or the point of view, or leaving out all the modifiers, or counting how many times you've used each sense for events you've related. All this is to help you see where you've repeated yourself, among other things.
This path had no colored lanterns, and the pristine white gravel gave way to hard-packed earth. Abruptly, their steps were silenced, and the evergreen hedges seemed to lean in on them, concealing them from view and softening the sounds of distant voices. (c. Victoria Janssen 2010): sight - 4; touch - 1; hearing - 2. Of course, I chose that selection because it had a lot of sense impressions. Hmmm.
Checking a few other places in my current manuscript, in a very unscientific way, my pattern continues of sight being the sense I refer to most often, followed by hearing, followed by smell or touch, so perhaps sampling is just as effective a way to do the exercise. I seem to use scent a lot when I need a quick, vivid impression, which makes sense to me, as I find some smells very evocative. Some examples: "opulent smell of roasting beans and honeyed pastries" versus the later "bread fried in lard and sour wine," along with a number of instances of distinctive scents associated with a particular character, either physical things (something they'd eaten or drunk) or associational (the person has a familiar personal scent which the pov character finds delicious).
I tried the gender switch exercise, and...in my writing, there's not much difference between how males and females speak and behave (aside from physical differences). Which doesn't surprise me much.
Yolen notes also that turning a prose paragraph into lines of poetry (just breaking the lines, not rhyming or anything) can help you identify where you've overwritten. Turning poetry into prose can help you see if you've been too cryptic.
Gulls swooped and
dove and
screamed.
Wading birds scampered
along the tide line,
stopping only to
stab their long beaks
into the wet sand
in search of food.
Behind the blindingly bright sand,
tall grasses waved
in the breeze, gradually merging into
low, darker green scrub and finally into
towering, densely leaved trees.
As she watched, a scarlet bird winged
from the trees to a rocky outcropping
that was white with guano.
(c. Victoria Janssen 2010)
(It's harder than it looks! I think this is a little flowery, but it's only one paragraph; I think it's okay to leave alone.)
I read Take Joy shortly after it came out, and had forgotten these very useful pieces of advice until I was browsing through my notes.
, she writes, "When we force ourselves to go topsy-turvy, we can see anew what is on the page," (p. 49).
She suggests taking a single chapter and re-reading the whole thing while changing the gender of the characters, or the point of view, or leaving out all the modifiers, or counting how many times you've used each sense for events you've related. All this is to help you see where you've repeated yourself, among other things.
This path had no colored lanterns, and the pristine white gravel gave way to hard-packed earth. Abruptly, their steps were silenced, and the evergreen hedges seemed to lean in on them, concealing them from view and softening the sounds of distant voices. (c. Victoria Janssen 2010): sight - 4; touch - 1; hearing - 2. Of course, I chose that selection because it had a lot of sense impressions. Hmmm.
Checking a few other places in my current manuscript, in a very unscientific way, my pattern continues of sight being the sense I refer to most often, followed by hearing, followed by smell or touch, so perhaps sampling is just as effective a way to do the exercise. I seem to use scent a lot when I need a quick, vivid impression, which makes sense to me, as I find some smells very evocative. Some examples: "opulent smell of roasting beans and honeyed pastries" versus the later "bread fried in lard and sour wine," along with a number of instances of distinctive scents associated with a particular character, either physical things (something they'd eaten or drunk) or associational (the person has a familiar personal scent which the pov character finds delicious).
I tried the gender switch exercise, and...in my writing, there's not much difference between how males and females speak and behave (aside from physical differences). Which doesn't surprise me much.
Yolen notes also that turning a prose paragraph into lines of poetry (just breaking the lines, not rhyming or anything) can help you identify where you've overwritten. Turning poetry into prose can help you see if you've been too cryptic.
Gulls swooped and
dove and
screamed.
Wading birds scampered
along the tide line,
stopping only to
stab their long beaks
into the wet sand
in search of food.
Behind the blindingly bright sand,
tall grasses waved
in the breeze, gradually merging into
low, darker green scrub and finally into
towering, densely leaved trees.
As she watched, a scarlet bird winged
from the trees to a rocky outcropping
that was white with guano.
(c. Victoria Janssen 2010)
(It's harder than it looks! I think this is a little flowery, but it's only one paragraph; I think it's okay to leave alone.)
I read Take Joy shortly after it came out, and had forgotten these very useful pieces of advice until I was browsing through my notes.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Making Time
"I have to find time to write."
I don't think that's true. You don't find time. You make time. You take it. You take it for yourself.
If you want to write, you have to choose time during which you will write.
You have to give things up in order to make time to write. If you don't already have writing time in your schedule, then what activity is filling your schedule? Your dayjob? Childcare? Housecleaning? Doing things for other people? Socializing? Regardless, there's a point where something has to give.
You can say it's easy for me. I don't have any children, I don't have a spouse who makes demands on my time. But, if I did have those people in my life, I would still need time for me. All of us need time for ourselves, to be ourselves. I am rarely more myself than when I'm writing. When that time is hard to locate, I get ruthless.
If I put off doing the laundry this week, will I still have enough clothes to wear to the dayjob? Will my friend forgive me if I can't go out to dinner with her this weekend? Will the volunteer effort fail completely for lack of my presence?
I choose. When I need to write, I make time to write.
I don't think that's true. You don't find time. You make time. You take it. You take it for yourself.
If you want to write, you have to choose time during which you will write.
You have to give things up in order to make time to write. If you don't already have writing time in your schedule, then what activity is filling your schedule? Your dayjob? Childcare? Housecleaning? Doing things for other people? Socializing? Regardless, there's a point where something has to give.
You can say it's easy for me. I don't have any children, I don't have a spouse who makes demands on my time. But, if I did have those people in my life, I would still need time for me. All of us need time for ourselves, to be ourselves. I am rarely more myself than when I'm writing. When that time is hard to locate, I get ruthless.
If I put off doing the laundry this week, will I still have enough clothes to wear to the dayjob? Will my friend forgive me if I can't go out to dinner with her this weekend? Will the volunteer effort fail completely for lack of my presence?
I choose. When I need to write, I make time to write.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Writing Marathons
I've learned three things from writing marathons:
1. I can trust my basic prose level to sound okay on first draft, without me paying too much attention to it as it flows out. I need to save my concentration for keeping the whole story in mind. Doing paper edits before the marathon helps a lot on thinking about the story's shape; so do the comments I get from my workshop on the partial. Making notes after those comments and edits, on specifically what I need to include before the novel's end, also helps a lot. The notes can be lather, rinse, repeat at each stage of the writing process.
2. Breaks are necessary for me, even in a marathon, even if the breaks are only standing up after an hour or so to put away part of a load of laundry. That's one kind of break. The other is finishing a large section, then taking a think-break and making notes on the next section, so I don't have to waste time flailing when I sit back down again to write. I can enforce my think-breaks by, for example, trapping myself downstairs waiting for my laundry to finish, with no entertainment but the notebook and pen.
3. I can write a lot in a short period if I need to, but never as much as I wish I could. I have to remind myself not to have wildly unrealistic expectations; it helps to know what I've managed to accomplish in the past.
1. I can trust my basic prose level to sound okay on first draft, without me paying too much attention to it as it flows out. I need to save my concentration for keeping the whole story in mind. Doing paper edits before the marathon helps a lot on thinking about the story's shape; so do the comments I get from my workshop on the partial. Making notes after those comments and edits, on specifically what I need to include before the novel's end, also helps a lot. The notes can be lather, rinse, repeat at each stage of the writing process.
2. Breaks are necessary for me, even in a marathon, even if the breaks are only standing up after an hour or so to put away part of a load of laundry. That's one kind of break. The other is finishing a large section, then taking a think-break and making notes on the next section, so I don't have to waste time flailing when I sit back down again to write. I can enforce my think-breaks by, for example, trapping myself downstairs waiting for my laundry to finish, with no entertainment but the notebook and pen.
3. I can write a lot in a short period if I need to, but never as much as I wish I could. I have to remind myself not to have wildly unrealistic expectations; it helps to know what I've managed to accomplish in the past.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
A Weird Dislike
It's very weird and pointless, I know, but I have an aversion to the phrase multi-published.
I understand what it means. It means you sold more than one story, or one book, and had it published. It's usually used to describe writers who are making a living from their work, but not always.
But why does it matter? If it does matter, why don't we say double-published and triple-published and on and on?
And does it count if you sell, say, one novel and one nonfiction essay? How about two short stories? Two pieces of flash fiction?
I just don't think it tells you anything, really. And it sounds like you're trying too hard to be accepted. "I'm not just any writer. I've been published multiple times."
Isn't published enough? Or professional writer? Or even just writer?
Am I missing some subtlety here?
I understand what it means. It means you sold more than one story, or one book, and had it published. It's usually used to describe writers who are making a living from their work, but not always.
But why does it matter? If it does matter, why don't we say double-published and triple-published and on and on?
And does it count if you sell, say, one novel and one nonfiction essay? How about two short stories? Two pieces of flash fiction?
I just don't think it tells you anything, really. And it sounds like you're trying too hard to be accepted. "I'm not just any writer. I've been published multiple times."
Isn't published enough? Or professional writer? Or even just writer?
Am I missing some subtlety here?
Thursday, March 18, 2010
How to Write - Linkgasm #4
I visited Lauren Dane's blog yesterday for Writerly Wednesday, to talk about Dialog Tricks.
Also, Great War Fiction, one of my favorite blogs, reviewed The Moonlight Mistress yesterday! Here's the link. It's so cool to be meandering about, reading your usual blog feeds, and something like this pops up.
But enough about me.
The Magic Treehouse Writing Lessons. No, really. Have a look. Especially if you're stuck on something.
A really great post on Craft, Story, and Voice by Rachelle Gardner.
How to write a novel in 100 days or less, by John Coyne. It's a day-by-day guide with some excellent advice which bears repeating.
Anita Burgh has a lot of good, direct advice.
I don't think I'm organized enough to use the snowflake method of writing a novel, but it's an interesting approach.
If you've never read The Turkey City Lexicon, why not? It's not just applicable to writing science fiction.
An Insider's Guide to Writing for Mills and Boon in The Guardian.
History by Decades gives brief information about (mostly European) history, by decade, from 1650-2000. It's more a useful source to spark further research.
And just for fun, the Hollywood Plot-O-Matic.
The photograph is of Douglas Fairbanks, Jr.
Also, Great War Fiction, one of my favorite blogs, reviewed The Moonlight Mistress yesterday! Here's the link. It's so cool to be meandering about, reading your usual blog feeds, and something like this pops up.
But enough about me.
The Magic Treehouse Writing Lessons. No, really. Have a look. Especially if you're stuck on something.
A really great post on Craft, Story, and Voice by Rachelle Gardner.
How to write a novel in 100 days or less, by John Coyne. It's a day-by-day guide with some excellent advice which bears repeating.
Anita Burgh has a lot of good, direct advice.
I don't think I'm organized enough to use the snowflake method of writing a novel, but it's an interesting approach.
If you've never read The Turkey City Lexicon, why not? It's not just applicable to writing science fiction.
An Insider's Guide to Writing for Mills and Boon in The Guardian.
History by Decades gives brief information about (mostly European) history, by decade, from 1650-2000. It's more a useful source to spark further research.
And just for fun, the Hollywood Plot-O-Matic.
The photograph is of Douglas Fairbanks, Jr.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Write Your Bliss
You can have all the craft in the world but your writing won't sing if you're not writing your bliss, your joy, the one thing you love more than anything else in the world.
It's no good to say, "vampire novels always sell so I will write a vampire novel" if you don't love vampires. Love them. Okay, some people manage it, and they sell, and they sell well, but that's not my point here.
My point here is that most of us don't write purely for the money. If all we wanted was money, we would get a job that paid a lot more per hour than writing. (Like maybe bagging groceries.) I also think that getting joy from writing is part of your payment. And I think readers can tell if you feel that interest and joy; if you feel it, they are more likely to feel it, too. Agents and editors can feel it, too.
What better way to write something different than to write what you are desperate to read, but that isn't already out there?
Your bliss is what makes you unique. And if you want people to read your work, it needs that spark. It needs joy.
There aren't a whole lot of erotic novels set during World War One, and I don't know of any with werewolves. But I love reading about World War One, and I love science fiction and fantasy. So I wrote about those things. And I had a blast. As a result, I think it was good work, better work than I'd done before.
Write your bliss.
Related Post:
Wacky Story Elements and Laura Kinsale.
It's no good to say, "vampire novels always sell so I will write a vampire novel" if you don't love vampires. Love them. Okay, some people manage it, and they sell, and they sell well, but that's not my point here.
My point here is that most of us don't write purely for the money. If all we wanted was money, we would get a job that paid a lot more per hour than writing. (Like maybe bagging groceries.) I also think that getting joy from writing is part of your payment. And I think readers can tell if you feel that interest and joy; if you feel it, they are more likely to feel it, too. Agents and editors can feel it, too.
What better way to write something different than to write what you are desperate to read, but that isn't already out there?
Your bliss is what makes you unique. And if you want people to read your work, it needs that spark. It needs joy.
There aren't a whole lot of erotic novels set during World War One, and I don't know of any with werewolves. But I love reading about World War One, and I love science fiction and fantasy. So I wrote about those things. And I had a blast. As a result, I think it was good work, better work than I'd done before.
Write your bliss.
Related Post:
Wacky Story Elements and Laura Kinsale.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Art has a shape.
"One thing that makes art different from life is that in art things have a shape; they have beginnings, middles, and endings. Whereas in life, things just drift along. In life, somebody has a cold, and you treat it as insignificant, and suddenly they die. Or they have a heart attack, and you are sodden with grief until they recover to live for thirty petulant years, demanding you wait on them. You think a love affair is ending, and you are gripped with Anna Karenina-ish drama, but two weeks later the guy is standing in your doorway, arms stretched up on the molding, jacket hanging open, a sheepish look on his face, saying, "Hey, take me back, will ya?" Or you think a love affair is high and thriving, and you don't notice that over the past months it has dwindled, dwindled, dwindled. In other words, in life one almost never has an emotion appropriate to an event. Either you don't know the event is occurring, or you don't know its significance. We celebrate births and weddings; we mourn deaths and divorces; yet what are we celebrating, what mourning? Rituals mark feelings, but feelings and events do not coincide. Feelings are large and spread over a lifetime. I will dance the polka with you and stamp my feet with vigor, celebrating every energy I have ever felt. But those energies were moments, not codifiable, not certifiable, not able to be fixed: you may be seduced into thinking my celebration is for you. Anyway, that is a thing art does for us: it allows us to fix our emotions on events at the moment they occur, it permits a union of heart and mind and tongue and tear. Whereas in life, from moment to moment, one can't tell an onion from a piece of dry toast."
--Marilyn French, The Women's Room
--Marilyn French, The Women's Room
Saturday, February 20, 2010
What Happens in the Reader's Mind
"A writer's talking about what he or she is capable of, like a writer's talking about the worth of his or her own work, is a pretty good way for that writer to start sounding like a pompous poseur.
Above all things, the story, the poem, the text is -- and is only -- what its words make happen in the reader's mind. And all readers are not the same.
Any reader has the right to say of any text: "But I didn't think it was that good."
Samuel R. Delany, SF Site interview with Jayme Lynn Blaschke, April 2001
Above all things, the story, the poem, the text is -- and is only -- what its words make happen in the reader's mind. And all readers are not the same.
Any reader has the right to say of any text: "But I didn't think it was that good."
Samuel R. Delany, SF Site interview with Jayme Lynn Blaschke, April 2001
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
