How much is too much? Dialogue, that is...

New plan: Wondering Wednesdays have arrived! This is where I ask you to tell me what you like in the stuff you read. (Okay, it's kind of a dorky name, but you know what I mean, right?) Please, please, please tell me what you like to read, what attracts you to a story/novel, and what you want more of.

So, Question Number 1: How much dialogue is too much? What balance do you like to see between narrative and dialogue? And would you rather an author err on the side of dialogue or narrative?

Here's a fun blog entry in defense of dialogue. Author Caro Clarke has a good article on the value and use of description. And here are a few prompts for creating settings that propel your novel forward instead of bogging it down.

Post your answers to my question here or on my Facebook page. I want to hear what you have to say!

Love, Hate, and Writing

Anyone who has read any of this agonizing journey of mine can probably tell that I have a love/hate relationship with this blog. I've deleted and restored it about three times. I agonize and wring my hands and wonder if it's even the right thing to do. For the moment, at least, I'm back, and I'm going to try to be more consistent, less anxious, and a little more fun about what I blog.

First, the novel... I put it aside for a while. I did. I put it away. I even zipped up all the files onto a CD and hid them from myself and deleted them from my hard drive. But after a few days, the siren song was too strong, and I started pulling up the back-up files from long ago. I started tweaking this and re-writing that, adding new and deleting old, and before long, I was sucked right back into that world. I spent much of yesterday writing new stuff to deepen the plot and character development.

On reflection of the first-ish drafts, I decided that I may have missed the main conflict of the main character's life. Or maybe if I didn't miss it, at least I didn't adequately define and develop it. I've started adding more detail around his life and choices and motivations and such. I don't know if this will help or hinder, but it makes me happy.

Second, on writing fiction in general... I tried to put the writing away. I tried to shun the muse -- I tried to put it all aside and tell her to stick her pencil where the sun doesn't shine. Unfortunately, my head couldn't leave the characters I've created alone. Even at night I would dream about them -- minor characters, even, not just the main ones.

And then last week, I was cleaning out a closet in an attempt to keep from writing, and I found a box with an old book I wrote many, many years ago. Different characters, different world, different story, but there it was: My writing, my voice, my creation on paper. And it made me remember, again, that I am just this way. I was made this way. My head creates stories; it's just who I am. It's as much a part of me as green eyes and brown hair (highlights by Bridget).

The reassuring part? After skimming the book I wrote those many years ago, I realized that yes, writing thousands and thousands of words *does* improve one's writing. Even if what I'm writing now is crap, it's less crappy than what I wrote fifteen years ago. That's a good thing.

So, I'm back at it. I'm writing for the fun of it, if nothing else. Even if I'm the only person who ever reads it, it makes me happy, at least. Cheap therapy, at least. That's something.

So there it is... Love -- for the craft, the characters, the story. Hate -- for the craft, the characters, the story. And writing -- such as it is -- the joy and the pain and the ache of it. One of my favorite quotes sums it up nicely: "There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein." (Walter Wellesley "Red" Smith)

Back to bleeding all over my laptop now...