Well, I'm Sort Of Back....
Okay, the truth is, I never was able to put my book down for a whole day. I tried -- believe me, I tried -- but I just couldn't stop tinkering with the damn thing. And I had the oddest experience yesterday: I started to think that maybe, objectively, I think it might sort of be getting better.
I don't really know what to do with this sensation. It's oddly comforting. I hope it's accurate.
So, I don't have much to say right now except that the beast is getting bigger and hopefully better. It's definitely getting deeper, richer, and fuller. I think the characters are becoming more defined; the plot is definitely tighter with more detail now. The motivations of the characters are becoming clearer. And my villain is becoming a bit more loveable. Well, there are really three villains -- one of them is becoming more loveable, one of them is becoming a more clearly defined malevolent force, and one of them is about the same as he started out -- but he was a minor villain to begin with.
Anyway, I'm thinking that if adding at this point makes the book better, then add I shall. If I must cut later, so be it. But if nothing else, this part of the process is making the world even more satisfying to cavort in.
I have some client work to do this week and next, which sort of bothers me... I love writing for other people, don't misunderstand. I'm just finding that I REALLY love writing for myself. Here's hoping I get the damn book finished and sold in 2010, and that everyone buys a copy or seven so that I never have to write for anyone else again. :)
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Taking a little breather....
I know I just started this blog, really, and I hate to take a break so early on, but I'm taking a few weeks off of the novel/blogging project. Christmas is looming, and I have a couple of business freelance projects I need to finish before the beginning of the year, so I'm putting the novel aside for a couple of weeks.
It's probably for the best, as much as it pains me to put it away. It's a little like bread dough. I think it needs to rise for a while. Or maybe ferment? Ripen? Not sure exactly what the right word is here...
In any case, I'm offering any readers out there my very best wishes for a wonderful Christmas season! I'll be back after the first of the year with some new things. I have lots of ideas germinating... 2010 will be a great year for my fantasy projects!
I know I just started this blog, really, and I hate to take a break so early on, but I'm taking a few weeks off of the novel/blogging project. Christmas is looming, and I have a couple of business freelance projects I need to finish before the beginning of the year, so I'm putting the novel aside for a couple of weeks.
It's probably for the best, as much as it pains me to put it away. It's a little like bread dough. I think it needs to rise for a while. Or maybe ferment? Ripen? Not sure exactly what the right word is here...
In any case, I'm offering any readers out there my very best wishes for a wonderful Christmas season! I'll be back after the first of the year with some new things. I have lots of ideas germinating... 2010 will be a great year for my fantasy projects!
Thursday, December 10, 2009
I Just Wrote the Ending....
...Of this overarching story. Very strange.
I have a vast vision of the world I'm creating, and it won't fit into one book. Heck, I don't know how many books it will fill. For a start, three -- the particular characters I'm working with have a lot of work in front of them and it's going to take a while to create the world that their children will have to work with in the next part of the story.
So, I was sitting here playing around with some of the ideas and trying to expand some of the text about one of the people groups. I think it's good practice just to write random scenes from various places in the story every now and again, so that's what I did -- took a break from the structure of working within an existing story and hopped away to write the first thing that came to mind.
I thought that the first thing that came to mind was the end of the story. I was wrong. I wrote that, and then it came to me -- there was more -- not a lot more, but a wrap-up scene. I started writing it, and one of the characters revealed something to me I had not expected. But as soon as she said it, I realized, "oh yeah -- of course -- that all makes sense. That will definitely come up between now and then. And then this page will make sense."
I was thinking about J. K. Rowling and how she said for years that the last word of "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" was "scar." It changed, but not much. I think it probably helped her have a target for where the story would end up. She had to end with Harry on Platform 9-3/4, seeing his kids off to Hogwarts, Ginny at his side, and his scar just a scar. Between the beginning and the end there were plenty of roads to take, and she had to find the right ones to get her to that scene.
So, for now, I have written most of book one, part of book two, and the last scene/line of book three. For now, I'm going on record as saying that the last word of my third book will be "beginning." Someday when I'm rich and famous (again, note the optimism) you can all come back to this blog post and say, "See, she said it right there -- 'beginning.'"
If it changes, you'll all be the first to know.
...Of this overarching story. Very strange.
I have a vast vision of the world I'm creating, and it won't fit into one book. Heck, I don't know how many books it will fill. For a start, three -- the particular characters I'm working with have a lot of work in front of them and it's going to take a while to create the world that their children will have to work with in the next part of the story.
So, I was sitting here playing around with some of the ideas and trying to expand some of the text about one of the people groups. I think it's good practice just to write random scenes from various places in the story every now and again, so that's what I did -- took a break from the structure of working within an existing story and hopped away to write the first thing that came to mind.
I thought that the first thing that came to mind was the end of the story. I was wrong. I wrote that, and then it came to me -- there was more -- not a lot more, but a wrap-up scene. I started writing it, and one of the characters revealed something to me I had not expected. But as soon as she said it, I realized, "oh yeah -- of course -- that all makes sense. That will definitely come up between now and then. And then this page will make sense."
I was thinking about J. K. Rowling and how she said for years that the last word of "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" was "scar." It changed, but not much. I think it probably helped her have a target for where the story would end up. She had to end with Harry on Platform 9-3/4, seeing his kids off to Hogwarts, Ginny at his side, and his scar just a scar. Between the beginning and the end there were plenty of roads to take, and she had to find the right ones to get her to that scene.
So, for now, I have written most of book one, part of book two, and the last scene/line of book three. For now, I'm going on record as saying that the last word of my third book will be "beginning." Someday when I'm rich and famous (again, note the optimism) you can all come back to this blog post and say, "See, she said it right there -- 'beginning.'"
If it changes, you'll all be the first to know.
Tuesday, December 08, 2009
You're In My Novel
I have this great T-shirt my friend Valerie gave me. It's a simple message -- a warning, really. It just says, "Careful, or you'll end up in my novel." She sent it to me a couple of years ago, but as I told her at the time, I've been threatening people with that for years. I'm not a mean person, I hope, but when people start pushing my buttons, I'll often say something like, "You know, I'm a writer. You don't want to piss off a writer. You'll end up in a novel."
What? I say it nicely.
Somehow last night we got on the topic of who in the family is "in my novel." I told the kids, "yeah, your dad is definitely in the novel." Then they all wanted to know if they were. I had to say -- I couldn't point to any specific places where they were "in" the novel, but largely because there aren't any children in the novel as characters (there will be, but in later books... Note my optimism...).
The conversation made me think, though, and here's what I've concluded: Everyone is in my novel. I'm a shameless people-watching eavesdropper, and you'd be amazed at what goes on when people think no one can see/hear them. I don't so much use specific incidents that I see or hear about, but I do use those incidents to think about people and what motivates them and why they act the way they do. Sometimes the incident and names will change, but the motivations and emotions are similar.
It goes back to that human condition thing. Writers explore the human condition. If we're honest -- if we get outside of ourselves long enough -- we can look deeply into the emotions, motivations, actions of anyone and find a use for it in our work. My work takes place on a mythical world with at least two magical races (so far) in addition to humanity, but I still find everything I need in this world.
The truth is that Bryce is the only person I can really truly say is "in my novel," and I've really taken all the best pieces of him and split them up between three male characters. One is funny, smart, and rakish; one has a deep nobility of spirit and a commitment to doing what is right whatever may come; and a third is a rugged warrior. (I'm lucky. My man has all of these traits. I had to split him into three pieces to put him in a book.) The rest of the characters -- I can't trace their roots back to anyone specific, but I can look at all of them and say that at least one piece is similar to someone I might know or have heard about at some point.
I'm reminded of Hamlet, who mused "What piece of work is a man! how noble in reason! how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals!" Of course, Hamlet went on to say that man did not delight him. Well, though I love the noble Prince of Denmark, I must disagree. Man fascinates me, and writing lets me explore man in all of his damaged, wounded, fractured, fantastic glory.
Everyone is in my novel, because people are in my novel.
But you should probably still be careful around me.
I have this great T-shirt my friend Valerie gave me. It's a simple message -- a warning, really. It just says, "Careful, or you'll end up in my novel." She sent it to me a couple of years ago, but as I told her at the time, I've been threatening people with that for years. I'm not a mean person, I hope, but when people start pushing my buttons, I'll often say something like, "You know, I'm a writer. You don't want to piss off a writer. You'll end up in a novel."
What? I say it nicely.
Somehow last night we got on the topic of who in the family is "in my novel." I told the kids, "yeah, your dad is definitely in the novel." Then they all wanted to know if they were. I had to say -- I couldn't point to any specific places where they were "in" the novel, but largely because there aren't any children in the novel as characters (there will be, but in later books... Note my optimism...).
The conversation made me think, though, and here's what I've concluded: Everyone is in my novel. I'm a shameless people-watching eavesdropper, and you'd be amazed at what goes on when people think no one can see/hear them. I don't so much use specific incidents that I see or hear about, but I do use those incidents to think about people and what motivates them and why they act the way they do. Sometimes the incident and names will change, but the motivations and emotions are similar.
It goes back to that human condition thing. Writers explore the human condition. If we're honest -- if we get outside of ourselves long enough -- we can look deeply into the emotions, motivations, actions of anyone and find a use for it in our work. My work takes place on a mythical world with at least two magical races (so far) in addition to humanity, but I still find everything I need in this world.
The truth is that Bryce is the only person I can really truly say is "in my novel," and I've really taken all the best pieces of him and split them up between three male characters. One is funny, smart, and rakish; one has a deep nobility of spirit and a commitment to doing what is right whatever may come; and a third is a rugged warrior. (I'm lucky. My man has all of these traits. I had to split him into three pieces to put him in a book.) The rest of the characters -- I can't trace their roots back to anyone specific, but I can look at all of them and say that at least one piece is similar to someone I might know or have heard about at some point.
I'm reminded of Hamlet, who mused "What piece of work is a man! how noble in reason! how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals!" Of course, Hamlet went on to say that man did not delight him. Well, though I love the noble Prince of Denmark, I must disagree. Man fascinates me, and writing lets me explore man in all of his damaged, wounded, fractured, fantastic glory.
Everyone is in my novel, because people are in my novel.
But you should probably still be careful around me.
Sunday, December 06, 2009
Why We Write
I went to the NaNoWriMo Portland Region wrap up event last night. Probably about 30 - 35 people there. A lot of writers read from their work, and I was struck with the amazing variety of work and writing styles.
I tend to get very wrapped up in my genre -- fantasy -- and forget the vast amount of literary talent out there. I heard pieces of everything from a sweeping historical account of a major European city to a new take on vampires to a western adventure to a literary novel to.... Well, you name it. The styles ranged from funny to snarky to serious to lyric to straight-forward to... Again, you name it. It was amazing.
As I let the words of the other writers wash over me and spent the night ruminating on what I'd listened to, I thought a lot about why we write. I can't speak for all writers, but for me, I write because I can't not write. I write because I have stories in my head that have to come out. I need to tell the stories. The genre isn't as important as the stories; for me, fantasy gives me some mechanism for exploring the stories. The stories -- the stories -- they are the important part.
The people I heard last night have other stories to tell. Some are similar to mine, but none are the same. I believe in God, and I believe we are created, spiritual beings on an earthly journey, and I think that God created writers to tell the stories of the human condition. Just as he created people who can design buildings and people who can engineer cars and people who can do my taxes, he created writers to tell stories for future generations. And because all of the stories are important, he gave all of us different ones. I may not agree with all of the stories, and I may not read them all, but I can appreciate the effort, talent, and aching ecstasy of drawing the stories out of our heads and onto that blank page.
So why do we write? We write because the paper is blank. We write to fill it.
I went to the NaNoWriMo Portland Region wrap up event last night. Probably about 30 - 35 people there. A lot of writers read from their work, and I was struck with the amazing variety of work and writing styles.
I tend to get very wrapped up in my genre -- fantasy -- and forget the vast amount of literary talent out there. I heard pieces of everything from a sweeping historical account of a major European city to a new take on vampires to a western adventure to a literary novel to.... Well, you name it. The styles ranged from funny to snarky to serious to lyric to straight-forward to... Again, you name it. It was amazing.
As I let the words of the other writers wash over me and spent the night ruminating on what I'd listened to, I thought a lot about why we write. I can't speak for all writers, but for me, I write because I can't not write. I write because I have stories in my head that have to come out. I need to tell the stories. The genre isn't as important as the stories; for me, fantasy gives me some mechanism for exploring the stories. The stories -- the stories -- they are the important part.
The people I heard last night have other stories to tell. Some are similar to mine, but none are the same. I believe in God, and I believe we are created, spiritual beings on an earthly journey, and I think that God created writers to tell the stories of the human condition. Just as he created people who can design buildings and people who can engineer cars and people who can do my taxes, he created writers to tell stories for future generations. And because all of the stories are important, he gave all of us different ones. I may not agree with all of the stories, and I may not read them all, but I can appreciate the effort, talent, and aching ecstasy of drawing the stories out of our heads and onto that blank page.
So why do we write? We write because the paper is blank. We write to fill it.
Thursday, December 03, 2009
I'm having one of *THOSE* days....
Do you ever have one of those days when you think that you so totally suck at what you're doing?
Yeah, it's one of those days... I think those of us in the creative world are maybe a bit more prone to this kind of despondency than, say, a plumber. I mean, you plumb a house and if it doesn't leak, you know you did a good job. The rewards are a little more immediate and concrete than for a creative person.
I spent some more time reading through the last few chapters of my book. Second draft is now basically done, and I'm thinking it really sucks. I know it doesn't. In my head, the characters are real, living, breathing, functioning people with stories to tell and lives to live. The world I've created speaks to me, desperate to be given a voice for this world. But when I read it, it seems flat. Dull. Uninteresting.
I fear that, in the interest of making myself more palatable to a future publisher, I'm reining my story in -- trying to keep it short, keep it moving fast, keep it centered on dialogue and action. While these are good things, this is fantasy, and in the process of making it move faster I'm skimming over some of the richness of the world.
I think of J. K. Rowling and her masterful use of Quidditch. It's so brilliant to create an entirely new game that gives her an opportunity to advance the plot and her hero an opportunity to shine. What's my Quidditch?
I think of Terry Goodkind and the way he uses magic -- the rules that aren't too complicated, but the variety and depth of it that astound me. The rules of my world I've figured out -- how do I share the variety and depth without plodding through it?
I need some time to let the novel breathe. Like a good wine, it will become better on the taste buds if it mellows a bit. In the meantime, I'm going to the library. I need a good fantasy fix. Or maybe I'll kill some time writing a quick short story -- something to let my brain play with while the internal editor sits and stews with her red pencil up her keister for a few days.
Stay tuned...
Do you ever have one of those days when you think that you so totally suck at what you're doing?
Yeah, it's one of those days... I think those of us in the creative world are maybe a bit more prone to this kind of despondency than, say, a plumber. I mean, you plumb a house and if it doesn't leak, you know you did a good job. The rewards are a little more immediate and concrete than for a creative person.
I spent some more time reading through the last few chapters of my book. Second draft is now basically done, and I'm thinking it really sucks. I know it doesn't. In my head, the characters are real, living, breathing, functioning people with stories to tell and lives to live. The world I've created speaks to me, desperate to be given a voice for this world. But when I read it, it seems flat. Dull. Uninteresting.
I fear that, in the interest of making myself more palatable to a future publisher, I'm reining my story in -- trying to keep it short, keep it moving fast, keep it centered on dialogue and action. While these are good things, this is fantasy, and in the process of making it move faster I'm skimming over some of the richness of the world.
I think of J. K. Rowling and her masterful use of Quidditch. It's so brilliant to create an entirely new game that gives her an opportunity to advance the plot and her hero an opportunity to shine. What's my Quidditch?
I think of Terry Goodkind and the way he uses magic -- the rules that aren't too complicated, but the variety and depth of it that astound me. The rules of my world I've figured out -- how do I share the variety and depth without plodding through it?
I need some time to let the novel breathe. Like a good wine, it will become better on the taste buds if it mellows a bit. In the meantime, I'm going to the library. I need a good fantasy fix. Or maybe I'll kill some time writing a quick short story -- something to let my brain play with while the internal editor sits and stews with her red pencil up her keister for a few days.
Stay tuned...
Tuesday, December 01, 2009
How a weekend with my girlfriends saved me
I had just really started thinking about blog ideas and posts and topics and such when it was time for my annual weekend away on the Oregon Coast with several of the coolest -- and I'm not talking cool-just-because-they-are-my-friends, but cool in a dude-if-you-don't-think-she's-cool-you're-psychotic kind of way -- women on earth. I have been in a long, dark teatime of the soul for several years now. I have not been very open about this with anyone outside the inner sanctum, but it's been tough. Suffice to say I've questioned... well, everything. And that weekend, it all came out.
My weekend started with approximately 8 hours of non-stop talking with my very best friend ever. We've been friends for 30 years now. By the time the other ladies arrived at the beach house, we were just getting warmed up. By the time Friday night rolled around and everyone started sharing, things were getting personal. I vomited all of my emotions all over the room, and my friends picked up the pieces. I shared with them that all I really wanted to do was write fiction -- fantasy -- and they told me I needed to. More importantly, they told me that if I didn't, it was okay with them.
Now, I have this kind of support from my husband. Don't misunderstand. He has said similar things to me over and over again for several years. He is the most fantastic supporter of all my crazy nonsense ever. But it took the girlfriends to drive the points home. I don't know why. A girl thing, maybe...?
And so, I came home from that weekend and started mulling over ideas for a book I've had in my head for a few years now. I plinked around, and then my Facebook friend and real-life cousin (or something) Kay said she was taking the NaNoWriMo challenge. If you don't know, the challenge is to write a 50,000 word novel during the month of November. I decided to join her.
I crossed the 50,000 word mark on November 10.
And then I kept going.
Right now, I've finished the first draft. I'm working on the second draft, and it's moving fast. I've chopped, cut, pasted, rewritten, and moved pieces to a file I'm calling "bits and extras." I might need them for book two or some additional backstory somewhere. The current word count sits at around 104,000 words. Not sure if it will go up or down or stay the same. It's fantasy; as yet, it's untitled.
My friend Lyne challenged me to blog about this, and several people have followed my Facebook posts about this adventure, so I decided to spew a few thoughts here. I hope you enjoy reading about my crazy foray into being a "real" writer.
I had just really started thinking about blog ideas and posts and topics and such when it was time for my annual weekend away on the Oregon Coast with several of the coolest -- and I'm not talking cool-just-because-they-are-my-friends, but cool in a dude-if-you-don't-think-she's-cool-you're-psychotic kind of way -- women on earth. I have been in a long, dark teatime of the soul for several years now. I have not been very open about this with anyone outside the inner sanctum, but it's been tough. Suffice to say I've questioned... well, everything. And that weekend, it all came out.
My weekend started with approximately 8 hours of non-stop talking with my very best friend ever. We've been friends for 30 years now. By the time the other ladies arrived at the beach house, we were just getting warmed up. By the time Friday night rolled around and everyone started sharing, things were getting personal. I vomited all of my emotions all over the room, and my friends picked up the pieces. I shared with them that all I really wanted to do was write fiction -- fantasy -- and they told me I needed to. More importantly, they told me that if I didn't, it was okay with them.
Now, I have this kind of support from my husband. Don't misunderstand. He has said similar things to me over and over again for several years. He is the most fantastic supporter of all my crazy nonsense ever. But it took the girlfriends to drive the points home. I don't know why. A girl thing, maybe...?
And so, I came home from that weekend and started mulling over ideas for a book I've had in my head for a few years now. I plinked around, and then my Facebook friend and real-life cousin (or something) Kay said she was taking the NaNoWriMo challenge. If you don't know, the challenge is to write a 50,000 word novel during the month of November. I decided to join her.
I crossed the 50,000 word mark on November 10.
And then I kept going.
Right now, I've finished the first draft. I'm working on the second draft, and it's moving fast. I've chopped, cut, pasted, rewritten, and moved pieces to a file I'm calling "bits and extras." I might need them for book two or some additional backstory somewhere. The current word count sits at around 104,000 words. Not sure if it will go up or down or stay the same. It's fantasy; as yet, it's untitled.
My friend Lyne challenged me to blog about this, and several people have followed my Facebook posts about this adventure, so I decided to spew a few thoughts here. I hope you enjoy reading about my crazy foray into being a "real" writer.
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