Thank You, Random Newbie Writer!

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERASo, exactly HOW new do you have to be at writing to have JUST discovered Grammerly, yet still feel the NEED to tell a writer’s group you belong to that using it is lazy?  That writers should just pick up a book or a dictionary?  (Shall we tell them about Pro-writing Aid, Scrivener and the other dozen-odd programs that give writers a hand?)

Thank you, random newbie writer; I really needed a laugh today!

Mostly, because I’m still processing events from this weekend, and I wish I could say I was surprised, but it feels like I’ve been watching this happen in slow motion for a very long time.  So many warnings were ignored by those who needed to listen.  (Will they listen now?)  I also really, really wish I believed this would be the last incident.  My fears tell me the worst is yet to come.

As for my editing/revision adventure, I have tightened up the first chapter in the WIP, and already foresee things in later chapters that will get the CHOP.  I doubt there will be only one pass through the whole thing.  I haven’t really started incorporating the notes, yet, plus there will be a round of text-to-talk, and a round of Grammerly or one of the other aids.  Once that is finished, I will either start seeking an agent or small press, or take the chance on self publishing.  The plot thickens (hopefully).

Happy writing, y’all!

“Ping!”

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAWhile I was patting myself on the back last week for having a Good Excuse ™ for not writing, and the resulting blog post hid the fact that I was a bit panicky about not writing, I was unaware my brain had sifted into a different mode.

Yes, I was right in the middle of a fight scene.  Yes, it was THAT fight scene: the one with the inappropriately erotic words snuck into it.  I was also working on the second draft of another short story, where I tackle the nearly illegible pen and paper scribbles and try to type them into a coherent story.  Both are highly creative forms of writing, at least for me.

And they fell flat.  Just gone, and hardly missed in the crazy prep for an anime con.  When they didn’t come back on my first normal day for writing, I panicked a bit.  Truthfully, a LOT.

I could feel them fizzing, or burbling, like a  warm pot on the back burner of a stove, waiting for the right time to have a last-minute ingredient added.  I’ve felt this sensation before, so I was soothed, because it comes back, the creative side of writing, when it is ready, and not a damn minute before.  But that still left me stuck in front of blank pages…

Until I realized I had done something unusual to the novel that I laughingly refer to as my Work-In-Progress, despite the fact that I haven’t been able to stand the sight of it in nearly a year.  I had been re-reading it in the evenings, to unwind, instead of my to-read pile.

And it’s rough, and I have made my usual mistakes, and I’ve made eighteen pages of notes for changes over the past year, but I still love the story, and I’m ready to work on it.

You know, being a writer would be a lot easier if we got some kind of notice when our brains sifted to another mode.  I didn’t realize I was IN editing/revision.  There should be some kind of “ping,” or spider-sense, or notice hammered to our front door.  Instead we are suddenly swimming against the current, and struggling.

I’m better prepared for the task, this time, due to research and time spent working on smaller projects.  It seems a less insurmountable mountain, shrouded in thick clouds.  I can at least SEE what I need to achieve.  My intention is to have a ready manuscript for either agent shopping or self publishing by the end of the year, if not sooner.  Time will tell if I am up to the task.

Happy writing, editing, revision, or whatever!

 

Head-in-the-Clouds Musings

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

I had a startling thought the other day.  One of the Facebook writing groups had a post asking for confessions of clichéd tropes we secretly liked.  It didn’t take long for me to figure out mine.  For all the modern whining about “the Chosen One” and “Mary Sue” and other criticisms of the Hero’s Journey, I actually love the moment when a character realizes and accepts that they have a destiny, or finds that they have a real gift to save others.  That sense of hope of finding your place in the world.

I guess it’s something I wish I had.  Reading and writing are the closest I ever come to that feeling.  I have to remind myself that you can get away with anything if the readers like it.

In other news, a Facebook meme prompted me to make a declaration I may live to regret.

The joke was that a writer had used up all the good words while writing a sex scene and couldn’t write another, the implication being you shouldn’t use the same words over again, to avoid annoying the reader.  A friend commented that the good words must have been “thrust,” “thighs,” and “BBQ sauce.”  (Hahahahaha!)  My declaration was that I would use those same good words in my next fight scene, along with “moist,” “throbbing,” and “lave.”  (I adore “moist” as much as I loathe “lave.”  “Throbbing” is likely to spark giggles, even at forty-nine.)  More friends have added “ream” and “lather” to the list.  Challenge Accepted!

Accepted–mostly–because I said I would write them into a fight scene, not that they would survive the revision/editing process, or get published, but I am hopeful.  Honestly, I try to write fight scenes and erotic scenes in much the same way; as visceral as possible.  I have ranted on a similar topic before, in my old post “Do’s and Don’ts of Writing Spell Casting Scenes.”  (It’s rough and snarky, but I was new to blogging.)

The fight scene is shaping up nicely; it’s a new character, so her personality is still malleable.  I’m enjoying letting her tell me about this one time she had to fight bad guys while in this oddly erotic mental state.  I’ll keep you posted.

Also, I’m up to a hundred followers.  Yay!

Unless someone backs out…  Hey!  Where ya going?

Happy writing!

Daydreaming “In Calabria”

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAPeter S. Beagle published “The Last Unicorn” in 1968.  He was twenty-nine.  I was born the same year, so that book was not immediately on my reading list.

In fact, I did not discover the story until the 1982 animated film.  It would not be an exaggeration to say it helped shape my life.  It was one of many films and books that molded my view of the world, including my fascination and love for animation, movies, storytelling, myths, and fairy tales.  I never grew out of those first loves, and over time I learned that was a fine thing.  I still dream of the Red Bull, waves of unicorns coming in on the tide, human folly, and a unicorn’s regret.

I was in my twenties before I got a hold of a copy of the book he had written.  It was sublime.  I found more of Mr. Beagle’s books in my thirties and forties, but not all, to my current embarrassment.  The books I read were all very fine things.  He’s not a rock-star author, nor a household name, but I adore his command of language.  His prose weaves a subtle spell created from ethereal mists and hard labor.

I was shocked to find his latest work, “In Calabria,” in my local library’s new arrivals, but in a pleasant way.  I honestly didn’t realize he was still writing at 78.  This is a new goal for me, to be still publishable at that age, even if it’s too late to match being published in my twenties.

So, I’m currently in book-dream-land.  It’s a timely vacation, since I am at a point in my life where I need help believing in the intangible magics, like love, justice, and hope.  Writer whining, unhelpful suggestions, and ridiculous posturing will be lacking this week, and maybe, that is a fine thing, too.

Happy writing, and please support your local library!

That’s How We Roll…

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAThere is a very important thing I have taken away from all of my hours researching writing and writers–especially published writers–is that writers keep on writing.  Yes, there are pauses, breaks, blocks, family obligations, day jobs and all kinds of things that take time away from writing.  But, if you are a writer, you keep on writing.

Keep writing!  Even if it’s in the nooks and crannies of your life, you keep writing.  Maybe you have a place to write it down, or maybe it’s just an ongoing story writhing around in your head, but you keep writing.  Because it’s what you ARE, not what you DO.

It is both a tremendously liberating concept, and an incredibly restrictive one.

The reason I’m on the subject is I missed a deadline for an anthology I wanted.  I found out last Friday that the slots were full, and the pre-promotion had begun.  Ouch.  Saturday was busy with family, and Sunday I just read most of the day.  There was some internal whining about writing too slow, and generally sucking.  Whatever.

But this morning I wrote another six hundred plus words on that short story.  I like it.  I think I’m getting better, and I want to finish it.  I don’t plan on pulling a Bradbury, and writing several short stories a week, and using that to pay my bills, because he was an amazingly prolific writer.  But I do want to write more than one kind of story.

So, I’m going to finish it.  I’ll take out the bit that it needed to be in the anthology, send it to a beta or two, revise and edit, then start submitting it out to magazines or anthologies as I start the next writing project.

Because, that’s how writers roll.  You are right, Fortune Cookie fortune, and Mamma didn’t raise no fools.

Happy writing, y’all!

Today, I Will Nap.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAWell, I got through the Beautiful Freaks Fest with most of my brain intact.  I don’t feel it was my best writing, and the fiber arts/artifact creation/photography caused lots of insomnia, and nearly gave me a panic attack by Sunday.  Sooooo many things got cut out of the posts because my imagination far exceeds my time and abilities.  I had to be vague with specific details, like dates, names, and locations, because the second I commit, I HAVE to make sure everything is 100% historically accurate, and I would have never pushed the “publish” button, AND that would have been its own kind of failure.  Also, I was so busy trying to get my own posts out, I couldn’t get to the other writers/artists to look/like/share their work, too.

I also ignored a lot of weekend chores to get anything posted, and there is a vague sense I was only half aware during the conversations I had with my family.  Writer’s fog, I call it, although it affects all creative types.  I will hope for their forgiveness, and try to do better in the future.

BUT, I did it!  Three fiction posts in three days!  The links to the fest are still open, so I will spend the week visiting my co-conspirators.  Please, visit them, too.

I didn’t realize how comfy I had become with the “publish” button while running a blog.  All the old anxieties came roaring back when it was a work of fiction.  This does not bode well for future self-publishing, and puts another tick mark in the traditional publishing column.  Hmmm…

When I wrote the original short story six months ago, a letter from a man to his sister, begging her to come home and help him deal with the aftermath of the Fae touching his life, I had no idea it would go in this direction.  Now, I have the beginnings of a blog serial, and perhaps I’ll collect it into a novella.  (Although pic heavy e-books are difficult to format, from what I have heard.)  There is so much more to that short story than I thought.  Time to dig deeper into the research.  Yay!  Research!

What else is in my future?  Finishing the other short story, catching up on beta reading for friends, overdue reviews for other friends, revising and editing my novels, more blogging with my creative brain exposed, and hopefully–somehow–getting my work out into the world and published.

But first, I’m going to take a nap.

Happy writing!

UPDATE 6/28/2018;  The Mayfly Bride fiction posts were removed to revise and submit to anthologies.  Sorry for any inconvenience.

Cue the Music…

Beautiful-Freaks-Fest-2017

Cue the calliope music; I signed up for the Beautiful Freaks Fest.  Watch to see if I drop the ball, plates, chainsaws, my brain, or what ever it is that makes me think I am a writer.  I’ll be posting free content for three days this weekend.  The plan is a combo of story telling, pics of fiber arts, and bad poetry.  I’m not ready (this weekend wasn’t productive in that way) but I’m trying to play catch up this week.

I’m also stalled out on the horror short story.  I haven’t been able to sit down for it for four days, despite getting a first reader to read the first half and tell me I was pointed in the right direction.  I KNOW the direction, and this is the second draft, so it should be just a matter of sitting in the chair and typing, but there seems to be a block.  There is also the issue of almost five thousand words and being only half way through.  I’m pushing the envelope of short story word length.  We’ll see how that plays out.

Happy writing, and I’ll see you this weekend!

Update 6/28/2018: The story for this festival, The Mayfly Bride, was removed to be revised and submitted to anthologies.  Sorry for any inconvenience.

Slow Writing

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERARevision of the short story is going slow.  I can only manage one scene per morning, no matter how much time I actually have to write.  Also, WTF is with only able to write in the morning?  I used to be able to write any time of day.  Now, my brain seems to be fried baloney by noon and I end up on social media, or reading emails and blogs.

AND the story I liked and thought I had a pretty good handle on?  The revision is bigly different, and much better, I think.  I don’t know.  Crap!

Sorry if this is all tedious to you.  Since I am only in my fourth year of writing seriously, with expected results and an eye toward publishing, I seem to be struggling with my methods.  I know that each story requires different things, but GEEEZZZ!

On top of all that, and a busy week at the day job, an online writing fest has caught my eye.  Another un-paid Horror gig, but you have to get your name out there, right?  Right?  Fortune favors the bold?  Anything less feels like standing still.  I’m not sure how I can pull together something good in less than two weeks, let alone scary, but I can’t stop thinking about it.

Seriously, what is with me writing Horror all the sudden?  I gave up reading it in my twenties because I like to sleep at night.  Maybe writing it won’t have the same effect, but can I really expect to produce good work if I’m not reading the genre?  A lot of the on-line writer friends I’ve made are horror writers, and I need to read and review their work to help support them.  I foresee a lot of sleeping with the lights on in my future.

Either way, I think I’m about to get too many plates in the air, spinning all at once.  Listen for the crash!

Let me go find something useful to do, instead of all this angsty writer feels.

Happy writing.

Shhhhh! I’m Busy!

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAShhhh!  I’m busy writing, or at least typing.  The writing happened last week.

The rough draft of the short story came together, all at once, in 1600 words worth of missing scenes.  The rest of the week was spent in re-reading and taking notes.  I don’t remember exactly what was the tipping point.  Doesn’t really matter, since that is not the kind of thing you can re-create on the next project.  Each project requires a different set of circumstances.

Now I’m on to the second draft, typed this time.  What you should know about me is this is almost harder than the rough draft.  I’ve never worked in an office, so computers and technology are not my everyday tools, although I did take a typing class way back in high school.  My keyboarding style is best described as “Monkey-Chicken Hybrid on Caffeine.”

But, before I go, let me type up a few thoughts that occurred during the week.

Writing is work.  If you don’t also enjoy the process, please, go find something pleasant to do with your time.  Save your sanity.

Editing/revision is where you make sure the words are fit for another brain.  YOU understand the story, but will another person just reading the words–without your brain–understand what you are trying to say?

Watermelon is the food of the Gods.

Teenagers are crazy.

Graphic novels are pictures and story, and I LOVE them.

Punctuation, grammar, and slang should reflect the target audience.  Anything else is just making it harder to be read, understood, and enjoyed.

I gotta get back to typin’.  Have a good ‘un.

 

 

Is the Writer Blocked, or Just Stupid?

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERASome writers believe in Writer’s Block, and some don’t.  Whatever you want to call it, there are times that the words don’t flow, or what does come out is garbage.  It happens.  The trick is to figure out why.

In my continuing quest to let you see my abby-normal brain working (no flash photography, please) let’s poke at the short story that has stalled out.

I’ve got the characters, some dialogue, some introspection, some action, a twist, some creepy shit (it’s horror), and a decent circling back ending.  In the past I’ve been able to run with this much, and flesh out the story around these bones, but I only have about half.  Mostly what I’ve written this week is just not “muscle.”  It’s goo.  Or phlegm, or something like snot from a sinus infection.  There is not a lot of it, either, which is seriously screwing up my daily word count promise to myself.

I’ve picked at it during breaks in the day job.  I’ve taken walks.  I’ve read good books.  I’ve watched new TV shows.  I’ve organized part of the garage and attic.  I’ve napped.  I’ve sat down and just written oozing, stinking garbage to see if that will jar it loose.  It’s not budging, and I’m running out of time.  (It’s a self-imposed time restriction, so the only one hurt if I miss it is me.  But, shit, I’m tired of hurting myself.)

There’s a history book beside my knee that is the right time period for the story, but I haven’t cracked open.  Why?  I don’t know.  (I think I won’t like what I’ll find.)  There is also a book of the same genre that I’ve been meaning to read.  That could give it a jump-start, but I just leave it closed.  Why? I don’t know.  (Ditto.)

Something isn’t right, and I’m not sure if it’s one of the elements of the story, or that I’m just a shit writer.

If it’s the story, something will jar things loose.  Some small bit of information, or a sudden realization, or a casual comment dropped into a conversation.  I’ll adjust the elements to accommodate the changes, and be writing happily within minutes, without a frackin’ care in the world.  Magic.  Abra-cadabra-skippity-dee-do.  Familiar magic, at this point, but magic all the same.

If I’m just a shit writer…  Well, this could take a while.  Because I’m not a shit writer, and if my brain is telling me that I am, then there’s some fear burbling to the surface.  Fear of failure.  Fear of success.  Fear of being an imposter.

Fear.

It’s something all people deal with, and writers are certainly not exempt.  Unnecessary fear is the brain confusing one thing with another. Chemicals for one job applied accidentally to the wrong job, but it sucks the artist’s brain into a pit of self-loathing, and climbing back out is everything.

It might be time to step back, and take another run at “Art and Fear,” which I have mentioned here, and re-examine what the hell I am doing.  I’ll keep y’all posted.

Happy writing!

(Ignore the fake smile.)