Do you ever find yourself wishing you could do something? As we grow up, adults always tell you you can be anything you want when you grow up. But there are some talents that are just out of reach for the average knuckle-head, like me. There is one thing in particular I have always wished I could do, ever since my younger days.
I've always had a little bit of flare with the pen...not brilliant, but good. I loved to write, and growing up I was always writing short stories and poems. My second home was the library. But one day when I was in the 5th grade, I was over at a friend's house and it opened my eyes to a world I'd never seen. While our house was dominated by books, her house was dominated by art.
Her mother was an artist, and she had the most wonderfully eclectic home. The accents were deep, rich, natural wood, and it was a jumbled maze of rooms that had been carved in and out of the original structure over the years. Cluttered with art supplies, easels, pictures, drawings, paintings...you couldn't move without bumping into something artsy.
I suddenly wanted to become an artist.
One problem. I can't draw. At all. Not even a little. Believe me, I tried and tried and tried. It was ridiculous.
I've see people sitting at the park, drawing, and I'd be jealous. I've see people at writing conferences, drawing, and I'd be jealous. I've see some amazing book covers and yes, I'm jealous. My husband is very artistic, though not professionally...yup, jealous.
When my son was about 2 years old, he asked me to draw pictures. A dog. A cat. A horse. A pig. So he'd demand, and I'd draw. When my husband came home from work, he studied the drawings and said, "Oh, was Wayne drawing today?"
As you've gathered, my talent runs on par with a 2 year old. I *told* you I can't draw. At all. Not even a little.
But what a wonderful talent to have! I have to give props to artists, especially when designing a book cover. There is so much information and emotion that has to be conveyed, the cover is an integral part of the book. Most people pass judgement on the cover before they even pick it up to read the jacket. We have to love our artists.
I also have a couple of friends who are artists. Am I jealous?
Hmmm...(yes!)
My Book Rating System
My book rating system is based on 5 stars. The book must be rated at least 3 stars for a review.
3 Stars: Good story, good plot, good writing.
4 Stars: I was wowed, but something about the story fell short of perfection.
5 Stars: I was either drooling, on the edge of my seat, or falling in love.
If you would like me to review your book, please contact me at 00ibitz@charter.net.
Showing posts with label Writer's Block. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Writer's Block. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Hope for the Future
I was reading the 3rd book in the Lords of the Underworld series (love, love that series), and I found it interesting that hope was considered a demon. At first blush you may wonder how that could be. Hope isn't evil. Hope isn't destructive. Hope isn't bad. No, hope is good and encouraging.
But if you really think about it, hope can be considered all of those things: good and bad, encouraging and destructive.
We are hopeful when we write our first draft. We are hopeful when we ask our critique members to review our work. We are hopeful when we submit our query to agents/editors/contests. We are hopeful when we pass the first/second/third round of a contest, or when an agent or editor asks to see more of our manuscript.
We hope for rave reviews. We hope for positive feedback. When hope to make the finals in that contest. We hope to land a contract. We hope that readers will appreciate our work.
Sometimes, we get what we hope for. Those are good times. We feel good, we feel encouraged. We feel vindicated and we're buoyed by hope, with the energy to keep plugging at our craft.
Sometimes, we don't get what we hope for. Sometimes the reviews aren't what we'd hoped for, or we don't make the cut in a contest, or those agents/editors will take a pass. Those are the bad times. Those are the times when hope is crushed; when we're discouraged. We were hopeful, confident, and it seems as though hope itself set us up for the fall. And then there are times when we lose hope altogether.
But never, ever lose hope. Without hope, you may never write that award-winning novel, or contact an agent/editor who turns out to be the perfect match for you and your work.Without hope, you may have no reason to wake up in the morning and see how your novel has risen in the charts.
Writing isn't easy. But do what you love, learn what you can, work hard, persevere, and hope for the future.
But if you really think about it, hope can be considered all of those things: good and bad, encouraging and destructive.
We are hopeful when we write our first draft. We are hopeful when we ask our critique members to review our work. We are hopeful when we submit our query to agents/editors/contests. We are hopeful when we pass the first/second/third round of a contest, or when an agent or editor asks to see more of our manuscript.
We hope for rave reviews. We hope for positive feedback. When hope to make the finals in that contest. We hope to land a contract. We hope that readers will appreciate our work.
Sometimes, we get what we hope for. Those are good times. We feel good, we feel encouraged. We feel vindicated and we're buoyed by hope, with the energy to keep plugging at our craft.
Sometimes, we don't get what we hope for. Sometimes the reviews aren't what we'd hoped for, or we don't make the cut in a contest, or those agents/editors will take a pass. Those are the bad times. Those are the times when hope is crushed; when we're discouraged. We were hopeful, confident, and it seems as though hope itself set us up for the fall. And then there are times when we lose hope altogether.
But never, ever lose hope. Without hope, you may never write that award-winning novel, or contact an agent/editor who turns out to be the perfect match for you and your work.Without hope, you may have no reason to wake up in the morning and see how your novel has risen in the charts.
Writing isn't easy. But do what you love, learn what you can, work hard, persevere, and hope for the future.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Can You Handle the Truth?
Here's the thing about criticism: It's unavoidable.
As authors, even the brilliant authors, there's going to be criticism about our work. It's an unavoidable truth. Not every person is going to love every book. It's called taste, or preference. And there are a lot of readers out there with a lot of differing opinions.
Some authors don't want to hear the criticism. Their work is their baby; they've poured their heart and soul into their writing. It's perfect. It's brilliant. It rocks! And there is no way it needs improvement.
Time to cash in that reality check.
Even well-known authors will admit that if they could go back, there are things they'd change in their books. It doesn't matter how popular that book might be. Many authors admit that they have to force themselves to stop reading their novel because if they don't, they'll keep on re-writing and the thing would *never* be done.
Criticism should not be feared. When handled constructively, it should be revered. People, whether they're members of your critique group, your BETA readers, an agent/editor, or judges in a writing contest, are giving you feedback to make your work better. They're doing you a favor. Constructive criticism should be valued and considered, and not blatantly disregarded because you don't want to hear anything negative about your baby.
Sometimes, at first blush, this is hard to do. If you take the criticism personally and can't seem to see the forest through the trees, set it aside for a couple of days. Let the suggestions simmer. See the story through your eyes, and then through your reader's eyes. Envision your story with a few tweaks and ask yourself, "Does this make the story better?" You may be surprised by the answer!
With that being said, you know your work best. While critiques should be evaluated and considered, don't be swayed into blindly changing your writing style or the voice of your story simply because one person has a differing approach. Consider making changes that are right for you and for your story.
As authors, even the brilliant authors, there's going to be criticism about our work. It's an unavoidable truth. Not every person is going to love every book. It's called taste, or preference. And there are a lot of readers out there with a lot of differing opinions.
Some authors don't want to hear the criticism. Their work is their baby; they've poured their heart and soul into their writing. It's perfect. It's brilliant. It rocks! And there is no way it needs improvement.
Time to cash in that reality check.
Even well-known authors will admit that if they could go back, there are things they'd change in their books. It doesn't matter how popular that book might be. Many authors admit that they have to force themselves to stop reading their novel because if they don't, they'll keep on re-writing and the thing would *never* be done.
Criticism should not be feared. When handled constructively, it should be revered. People, whether they're members of your critique group, your BETA readers, an agent/editor, or judges in a writing contest, are giving you feedback to make your work better. They're doing you a favor. Constructive criticism should be valued and considered, and not blatantly disregarded because you don't want to hear anything negative about your baby.
Sometimes, at first blush, this is hard to do. If you take the criticism personally and can't seem to see the forest through the trees, set it aside for a couple of days. Let the suggestions simmer. See the story through your eyes, and then through your reader's eyes. Envision your story with a few tweaks and ask yourself, "Does this make the story better?" You may be surprised by the answer!
With that being said, you know your work best. While critiques should be evaluated and considered, don't be swayed into blindly changing your writing style or the voice of your story simply because one person has a differing approach. Consider making changes that are right for you and for your story.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Does Your Book Need To Go On A Diet?
Some things are meant to be chubby: Santa, little furry critters, and snow men, to name a few. Some things are not. When choosing hamburger at the supermarket, you see packaging that indicates how lean/fat the hamburger is: 90% lean, 80% lean, etc.
Your story should be lean, too. You don't want a book that's 60% lean, because that means it has 40% fat that could, and should, be trimmed. Those spare tires and jiggling thighs are usually indicative of minute details, redundancy, and scenes that do not move the story along.
Minute details drag the story to its knees. It's like walking through a forest and hitting quick sand. You get stuck. For example, I don't want to know that the character has woken up, stretched, brushed her teeth, sat on the toilet, taken a shower using Dove soap and a loofah that she just bought yesterday at the store, and then answered a phone call telling her her husband has been in an accident. These are all details that do not give life to your story, and no one really cares to read a minute-by-minute itinerary of what we do when we wake up. What we care about is that our character's husband has just been in an accident. So get there and tell us.
Redundancy is boring, and may seem to the reader that the author doesn't believe we can hold a single thought in our head. Chapter 3 might tell us that the amulet our character has received has been passed down to the first daughter for 10 generations and safekeeping it from the evil villain is key to keeping the world safe from annihilation. Chapter 10 reminds us that the amulet our character has received has been passed down to the first daughter for 10 generations and safekeeping it from the evil villain is key to keeping the world safe from annihilation. And chapter 18 reminds us that amulet our character has received has been passed down to the first daughter for 10 generations and safekeeping it from the evil villain is key to keeping the world safe from annihilation...just in case we forgot. Does your story need to repeat itself to get its point across to your readers?
Axing scenes that don't move the story along is by far the hardest trick to master. It might be a scene full of award-winning prose, clever use of language, or just your, the author's, baby and absolutely must stay in for personal reasons. Let it go. If it's not crucial to the story, it's a jiggling thigh or a big butt. I remember reading how JK Rowling's publisher (or movie director...I honestly forget if the interview was talking about the book or the movie) wanted her to axe the bathroom scene where Hermione, Ron and Harry battle the troll. She fought for that scene, because it cemented the friendship between the 3 characters. It was crucial to the story; the friendship between the 3 characters was pivotal to the entire series. If JK had said, "But I like trolls! It must stay in!" the argument would have had no merit.
So read your story with a critical eye. It may need some liposuction in order to become a lean, mean, reading machine.
Your story should be lean, too. You don't want a book that's 60% lean, because that means it has 40% fat that could, and should, be trimmed. Those spare tires and jiggling thighs are usually indicative of minute details, redundancy, and scenes that do not move the story along.
Minute details drag the story to its knees. It's like walking through a forest and hitting quick sand. You get stuck. For example, I don't want to know that the character has woken up, stretched, brushed her teeth, sat on the toilet, taken a shower using Dove soap and a loofah that she just bought yesterday at the store, and then answered a phone call telling her her husband has been in an accident. These are all details that do not give life to your story, and no one really cares to read a minute-by-minute itinerary of what we do when we wake up. What we care about is that our character's husband has just been in an accident. So get there and tell us.
Redundancy is boring, and may seem to the reader that the author doesn't believe we can hold a single thought in our head. Chapter 3 might tell us that the amulet our character has received has been passed down to the first daughter for 10 generations and safekeeping it from the evil villain is key to keeping the world safe from annihilation. Chapter 10 reminds us that the amulet our character has received has been passed down to the first daughter for 10 generations and safekeeping it from the evil villain is key to keeping the world safe from annihilation. And chapter 18 reminds us that amulet our character has received has been passed down to the first daughter for 10 generations and safekeeping it from the evil villain is key to keeping the world safe from annihilation...just in case we forgot. Does your story need to repeat itself to get its point across to your readers?
Axing scenes that don't move the story along is by far the hardest trick to master. It might be a scene full of award-winning prose, clever use of language, or just your, the author's, baby and absolutely must stay in for personal reasons. Let it go. If it's not crucial to the story, it's a jiggling thigh or a big butt. I remember reading how JK Rowling's publisher (or movie director...I honestly forget if the interview was talking about the book or the movie) wanted her to axe the bathroom scene where Hermione, Ron and Harry battle the troll. She fought for that scene, because it cemented the friendship between the 3 characters. It was crucial to the story; the friendship between the 3 characters was pivotal to the entire series. If JK had said, "But I like trolls! It must stay in!" the argument would have had no merit.
So read your story with a critical eye. It may need some liposuction in order to become a lean, mean, reading machine.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
What Did You Just Call Me?
Titles.
That one word can cause a tremble of fear in even the most seasoned authors. How do you portray an entire novel in just a few potent words, or better yet, one teeny tiny word? Not only does the title have to represent your story, it has to put on high heels, a short-hemmed skirt, and foot-long fake eyelashes and grab your potential reader's attention. Your title must entice your reader to pick it up and read the book jacket.
Let's face it. We all do it. We browse through titles until one murmurs, "I'm the one you want. You know you want me. Just put your hands on me, pick me up, and check me out."
Coming up with a perfect title can be hard when you're on your own. You may toss ideas around, play around with words, and narrow down the list. The problem here, at least with me, is that you may get stuck in rut, tossing the same words and ideas like dice and keep coming up snake eyes over and over. You get boxed in by the same tired phrases. The sides of the box are so high, you can't climb out, let alone think your way out.
My critique group just went through an title exercise. When one of our members is in a title-tuttle, we all pitch in. We start by throwing key words from the story onto the table (it helps when you have a critique group, or even beta readers, who have all read the story). These can be as many or as few as you want. Sky's the limit. Then we start tying words together into phrases. Don't hold back. Be silly, go way outside the box, be corny. It doesn't matter, because one person's idea just might trigger something in the author's mind. He/she may not choose that exact title, but something someone suggests could be just enough to make that toss of the die come up with something other than snake eyes.
Some people like the idea of physically writing the words down on cards, and re-arranging the cards on the table to see what comes up.
The exercise can be fun and not daunting at all if you don't hold back, give those die a good shake, and let 'em roll.
That one word can cause a tremble of fear in even the most seasoned authors. How do you portray an entire novel in just a few potent words, or better yet, one teeny tiny word? Not only does the title have to represent your story, it has to put on high heels, a short-hemmed skirt, and foot-long fake eyelashes and grab your potential reader's attention. Your title must entice your reader to pick it up and read the book jacket.
Let's face it. We all do it. We browse through titles until one murmurs, "I'm the one you want. You know you want me. Just put your hands on me, pick me up, and check me out."
Coming up with a perfect title can be hard when you're on your own. You may toss ideas around, play around with words, and narrow down the list. The problem here, at least with me, is that you may get stuck in rut, tossing the same words and ideas like dice and keep coming up snake eyes over and over. You get boxed in by the same tired phrases. The sides of the box are so high, you can't climb out, let alone think your way out.
My critique group just went through an title exercise. When one of our members is in a title-tuttle, we all pitch in. We start by throwing key words from the story onto the table (it helps when you have a critique group, or even beta readers, who have all read the story). These can be as many or as few as you want. Sky's the limit. Then we start tying words together into phrases. Don't hold back. Be silly, go way outside the box, be corny. It doesn't matter, because one person's idea just might trigger something in the author's mind. He/she may not choose that exact title, but something someone suggests could be just enough to make that toss of the die come up with something other than snake eyes.
Some people like the idea of physically writing the words down on cards, and re-arranging the cards on the table to see what comes up.
The exercise can be fun and not daunting at all if you don't hold back, give those die a good shake, and let 'em roll.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Let's Talk
Let's talk dialogue. Dialogue is more than just listening in on a conversation. Dialogue tells you things about the characters that prose may not. Dialogue can set the pace of a story, moving it along. I've read a number of books lately where the dialogue doesn't rock. It feels (sounds) unnatural. It's pointless. It's not realistic...especially when we're talking YA. Sometimes the dialogue doesn't sound like kids talking.
Here are some of the dialogue traps I see:
1. Repeating people's names over and over.
2. Not using contractions.
3. Dialogue that doesn't move the story along.
So, how does one have rockin' dialogue? Let's look at some tips.
Listen to people talk. Really listen. While conversing, are they saying each other's names repeatedly? I'll bet they're not. I almost guarantee they're not. Unless they're stressing a point, or trying to get someone's attention, they're silent on the name-usage. When writing, do the same. Reserve the name-usage to those times when you're stressing a point or getting someone's attention. Also, keep note of people's body language when speaking; adding body language to your written dialogue helps makes it real.
Unless your character is speaking English as a second language, or your story is set in a time period (or world) where speech is more formal, people use contractions. If you go back to tip #1 and are listening to people talk, I'll, again, bet that they're using contractions. Leave the formality behind unless it has a purpose in your dialogue.
Avoid conversations that go nowhere. Dialogue is supposed to move a story along. Here's an instance where we have an exception to tip #1. Have you ever listened to two kids bicker about something? "Did not!" "Did too!" "Did not!" "Did too!" "Did not!" "Did too!" Okay, so that might be how a real conversation goes, but on paper? Bo-ring! It's pointless and goes nowhere and no one seriously wants to read that argument for half a page.
So, stop talking, and start listening and writing your rockin' dialogue!
Here are some of the dialogue traps I see:
1. Repeating people's names over and over.
2. Not using contractions.
3. Dialogue that doesn't move the story along.
So, how does one have rockin' dialogue? Let's look at some tips.
Listen to people talk. Really listen. While conversing, are they saying each other's names repeatedly? I'll bet they're not. I almost guarantee they're not. Unless they're stressing a point, or trying to get someone's attention, they're silent on the name-usage. When writing, do the same. Reserve the name-usage to those times when you're stressing a point or getting someone's attention. Also, keep note of people's body language when speaking; adding body language to your written dialogue helps makes it real.
Unless your character is speaking English as a second language, or your story is set in a time period (or world) where speech is more formal, people use contractions. If you go back to tip #1 and are listening to people talk, I'll, again, bet that they're using contractions. Leave the formality behind unless it has a purpose in your dialogue.
Avoid conversations that go nowhere. Dialogue is supposed to move a story along. Here's an instance where we have an exception to tip #1. Have you ever listened to two kids bicker about something? "Did not!" "Did too!" "Did not!" "Did too!" "Did not!" "Did too!" Okay, so that might be how a real conversation goes, but on paper? Bo-ring! It's pointless and goes nowhere and no one seriously wants to read that argument for half a page.
So, stop talking, and start listening and writing your rockin' dialogue!
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Confession of Closet Critic
I don't think I'm *really* a closet critic. I read, I review, and yes, sometimes I criticize...but I'm not a critic. I just like the sound of that...closet critic. Nice alliteration. Even if it's kind of a lie.
Anywho...
So, a while back I was reviewing two separate books, and I was annoyed at how the author had gleamed over, what I had thought, pivotal scenes. One was a fight scene, the other was a torture scene. As I had mentioned in my review, I'm not necessary a gruesome girl who gets off on reading about torture and worships movies like Hostel (talk about gruesome, and yeah, I've seen them all), but I wanted at least a piece of the scene for my imagination...one little tidbit thrown my way so that my brain could analyze it and embellish it in whatever sick way my mind wanted to take me. I believe I had said that that approach to writing the scene was unimaginative, or cowardly.
Wow. Bitch much?
Anywho...
It was the same with the fight scene (a different book). It was like the whole scene had been condensed and glossed over and then, bam! It was over.
I repeat: I'm not a gruesome girl, really, but the reason I wanted to have a little embellishment on these scenes is that both were pivotal events for the character. They were life-changing events. They molded and shaped the character to harden and toughen and evolve. And we missed it. Both times.
Now to the confession.
As I was reading through my current WIP (Kiss Me Dead) I came upon a fight scene. 3 guys against 1. The character gives one guy a solid kick to the chin that sends him flying, he cracks his head against the pavement, and lights out. The other 2 left standing go on the attack. Then you know what I did?
Wait for it...
I condensed. I glossed. I believe my exact written words were, "A few kicks and punches later..."
Read it again.
"A few kicks and punches later..."
Um. Wait. What? Is that imaginative or brave writing? No, it's unimaginative and cowardly. Granted, it was in no way a life-changing scene for the main character...but it was pivotal. It was a cause that created an effect. It forced him into a situation where he made a decision he might not otherwise have made.
"A few kicks and punches later..."
I cringe every single time I read that sentence. How uninspiring. How *lazy*. Apparently, I can talk the Shit, but I can't write it.
But I *can* edit it! And I will.
Anywho...
So, a while back I was reviewing two separate books, and I was annoyed at how the author had gleamed over, what I had thought, pivotal scenes. One was a fight scene, the other was a torture scene. As I had mentioned in my review, I'm not necessary a gruesome girl who gets off on reading about torture and worships movies like Hostel (talk about gruesome, and yeah, I've seen them all), but I wanted at least a piece of the scene for my imagination...one little tidbit thrown my way so that my brain could analyze it and embellish it in whatever sick way my mind wanted to take me. I believe I had said that that approach to writing the scene was unimaginative, or cowardly.
Wow. Bitch much?
Anywho...
It was the same with the fight scene (a different book). It was like the whole scene had been condensed and glossed over and then, bam! It was over.
I repeat: I'm not a gruesome girl, really, but the reason I wanted to have a little embellishment on these scenes is that both were pivotal events for the character. They were life-changing events. They molded and shaped the character to harden and toughen and evolve. And we missed it. Both times.
Now to the confession.
As I was reading through my current WIP (Kiss Me Dead) I came upon a fight scene. 3 guys against 1. The character gives one guy a solid kick to the chin that sends him flying, he cracks his head against the pavement, and lights out. The other 2 left standing go on the attack. Then you know what I did?
Wait for it...
I condensed. I glossed. I believe my exact written words were, "A few kicks and punches later..."
Read it again.
"A few kicks and punches later..."
Um. Wait. What? Is that imaginative or brave writing? No, it's unimaginative and cowardly. Granted, it was in no way a life-changing scene for the main character...but it was pivotal. It was a cause that created an effect. It forced him into a situation where he made a decision he might not otherwise have made.
"A few kicks and punches later..."
I cringe every single time I read that sentence. How uninspiring. How *lazy*. Apparently, I can talk the Shit, but I can't write it.
But I *can* edit it! And I will.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
It's Time to Write
Okay, so most authors have day jobs. Some like their day jobs. Some despise their day jobs. Some simply tolerate their day jobs. But they all love to write. Which is why they do.
There's a lot of advice out there on writing process: seat of the pants, excel spreadsheets with timelines, plotting, outlining, index cards pinned to walls and bulletin boards and spouses' backs. Some say write a page a day. Or a chapter a day. Or an hour a day. Sometimes all you get out is a word a day. Some would advise to write every day. The list goes on.
I don't quite follow with the 'you have to write every day' mode of operandi, because life is life and writing is work. Yeah, we enjoy it, but it's still work. Could you imagine your boss telling you you have to work every day? No matter what? Even if it's only an hour? I'd tell him to pound sand. I'd tell him to sit on his job and twirl. I'd tell him to kiss my ass cuz that's all he's gonna see of me as I walk out that door. I have days off. I have vacations. I've gone *weeks* without writing sometimes just because I need the down time. I'm burnt. I'm toast. Stick a fork in me, I'm done.
But not today.
So, you may be thinking, between working, and writing, and reading, and reviewing, and blogging, and laundry, and cooking, and cleaning, and grocery shopping, and chauffering rug-rats, and doctors appointments and sports events and practices, where the fwoop do I slice an hour out a day already busting at its 24-hour seams?
When you have the answer to that, call me.
I learned something the other day, and while it was a concept applied to my day job, I thought, why not apply it to writing? Not that the concept will be easy, because I still have to work, and read, and review, and blog, and...you get it.
What I learned is that there is a certain time of day that people are at their most productive. Most people are most productive in the morning. Before you throw your coffee at me, I'm not saying as soon as you blink your eyes open morning, but after that first cuppa morning. Others could be at their best in the afternoon (not bloody likely, in my book), or at night. Only you can determine when you're at your best.
The trick is to turn off distractions during your most productive time. Turn off your IM. Turn off your phone. Turn off your email. Whether it be one hour, or two hours, or three hours, again is dependent on you. I like to use 2 hour blocks. During this productive zone, produce. That's all there is to it. Produce, with no distractions.
I'm an early bird. My production zone is the morning.
Twice a week, when I ride the bus to work, I get an hour production zone in the morning. I write the whole ride. I get the same hour on the way home, and while I'm not nearly as productive because my eyes are generally glazed and my brain is generally fried, I still write. Or try to. Sometimes I'm so fried I simply whip out the Nook and read. That's okay. I don't stress. I unwind.
I'm an early bird in a family of night owls. On the weekends, I get up well before the other laze-abouts. That's my time. I put off my cleaning (even though there are little eyes in my head eyeballing the dog hair on the rug, I try to ignore it); I worry about the laundry later; the grocery store isn't going anywhere; dinner is *hours* away. Here's the tricky part. Some distractions can't be turned off. Am I right? Yeah.
Today I arose at 6:30 because I got a list of crap to do: I desperately have to vacuum the dog hair off the rug, clean the house, do some laundry, bake lasagna for dinner, have 2 book reviews I still need to write up, resist cracking open the 4th book in a series that I'm just starting to adore (after staying up way too late last night to finish book 3) in order to start one of the 2 books that I need to read in the next couple of weeks to meet my review due dates, review my latest urban fantasy manuscript to send to an editor who just requested a read (yay!), and continue editing my 2nd novel in the Last Moon Rising series.
So after stoking up the woodstove and before I even get coffee going, I'm interrupted by my son puking his guts out. I stand in the kitchen, a silent witness to his misery. It goes on and on. And on. I squirm, I flinch (you know the sound effects), I give him a motherly pat on the back, make him rinse his mouth, send him back to bed with a bottle of water, but not before a little polite debate about the woes of being sick on a saturday and not a school day vs it's a good thing this happened on a saturday and not a school day. The coffee still needs to be made, but the dog needs to go out. Of course, she can't just do her business because it's snowing and running in the snow chasing birds is so much fun and she doesn't give a flying fwoop about production zones. Now it's 7:20. Stoke up the stove again. Get the coffee going (finally). And now I'm almost an hour into my production zone and, well, I haven't produced!
That's ok. Eveyone's back in bed, including the dog, and time is mine. I have my coffee. I have my laptop. I have my zone back.
It's time to write.
There's a lot of advice out there on writing process: seat of the pants, excel spreadsheets with timelines, plotting, outlining, index cards pinned to walls and bulletin boards and spouses' backs. Some say write a page a day. Or a chapter a day. Or an hour a day. Sometimes all you get out is a word a day. Some would advise to write every day. The list goes on.
I don't quite follow with the 'you have to write every day' mode of operandi, because life is life and writing is work. Yeah, we enjoy it, but it's still work. Could you imagine your boss telling you you have to work every day? No matter what? Even if it's only an hour? I'd tell him to pound sand. I'd tell him to sit on his job and twirl. I'd tell him to kiss my ass cuz that's all he's gonna see of me as I walk out that door. I have days off. I have vacations. I've gone *weeks* without writing sometimes just because I need the down time. I'm burnt. I'm toast. Stick a fork in me, I'm done.
But not today.
So, you may be thinking, between working, and writing, and reading, and reviewing, and blogging, and laundry, and cooking, and cleaning, and grocery shopping, and chauffering rug-rats, and doctors appointments and sports events and practices, where the fwoop do I slice an hour out a day already busting at its 24-hour seams?
When you have the answer to that, call me.
I learned something the other day, and while it was a concept applied to my day job, I thought, why not apply it to writing? Not that the concept will be easy, because I still have to work, and read, and review, and blog, and...you get it.
What I learned is that there is a certain time of day that people are at their most productive. Most people are most productive in the morning. Before you throw your coffee at me, I'm not saying as soon as you blink your eyes open morning, but after that first cuppa morning. Others could be at their best in the afternoon (not bloody likely, in my book), or at night. Only you can determine when you're at your best.
The trick is to turn off distractions during your most productive time. Turn off your IM. Turn off your phone. Turn off your email. Whether it be one hour, or two hours, or three hours, again is dependent on you. I like to use 2 hour blocks. During this productive zone, produce. That's all there is to it. Produce, with no distractions.
I'm an early bird. My production zone is the morning.
Twice a week, when I ride the bus to work, I get an hour production zone in the morning. I write the whole ride. I get the same hour on the way home, and while I'm not nearly as productive because my eyes are generally glazed and my brain is generally fried, I still write. Or try to. Sometimes I'm so fried I simply whip out the Nook and read. That's okay. I don't stress. I unwind.
I'm an early bird in a family of night owls. On the weekends, I get up well before the other laze-abouts. That's my time. I put off my cleaning (even though there are little eyes in my head eyeballing the dog hair on the rug, I try to ignore it); I worry about the laundry later; the grocery store isn't going anywhere; dinner is *hours* away. Here's the tricky part. Some distractions can't be turned off. Am I right? Yeah.
Today I arose at 6:30 because I got a list of crap to do: I desperately have to vacuum the dog hair off the rug, clean the house, do some laundry, bake lasagna for dinner, have 2 book reviews I still need to write up, resist cracking open the 4th book in a series that I'm just starting to adore (after staying up way too late last night to finish book 3) in order to start one of the 2 books that I need to read in the next couple of weeks to meet my review due dates, review my latest urban fantasy manuscript to send to an editor who just requested a read (yay!), and continue editing my 2nd novel in the Last Moon Rising series.
So after stoking up the woodstove and before I even get coffee going, I'm interrupted by my son puking his guts out. I stand in the kitchen, a silent witness to his misery. It goes on and on. And on. I squirm, I flinch (you know the sound effects), I give him a motherly pat on the back, make him rinse his mouth, send him back to bed with a bottle of water, but not before a little polite debate about the woes of being sick on a saturday and not a school day vs it's a good thing this happened on a saturday and not a school day. The coffee still needs to be made, but the dog needs to go out. Of course, she can't just do her business because it's snowing and running in the snow chasing birds is so much fun and she doesn't give a flying fwoop about production zones. Now it's 7:20. Stoke up the stove again. Get the coffee going (finally). And now I'm almost an hour into my production zone and, well, I haven't produced!
That's ok. Eveyone's back in bed, including the dog, and time is mine. I have my coffee. I have my laptop. I have my zone back.
It's time to write.
Monday, September 26, 2011
The Story Arc
I recently had a discussion with another author about whether a book had a true story arc. When I had read the book, it seemed to me the story arc was missing, and rather, the book was merely a series of events strung together. The story was a basis for establishing the main character's development from boyhood to manhood. While interesting, I kept waiting for the climax and resolution to the story...which, in my opinion, never came. The events in the story happened to the character, and the character never made one critical choice that brought the story to climax.
So, what's a story arc? The best explanation comes from Nigel Watt's Writing a Story and Getting Published. Nigel describes the 8 point story arc. In summary:
1. Stasis, the every day life in which the story is set. This is the setting in which the character lives, whether it be with an adoptive family, the mean halls of high school, a bored princess.
2. Trigger, which is something beyond the main character's control and which sparks the story. In a fantasy, this could be your main character falling into a portal into another world.
3. The quest stems from the trigger. If your main character fell through a portal into another world, his/her quest may be to get back home.
4. The surprise is the whole middle of the story. These could be nice surprises, but usually involves conflicts, obstacles, complications and trouble for your main character. After all, if your character found it easy to get back home after falling through the portal, that would be a pretty boring story. The writer shouldn't throw in random "surprises"...they all should be linked and make sense. Going with our falling through the portal theme, a surprise could be that after falling through the portal, the character discovers he/she plays an important role in that world's political structure. There may be forces at work that do *not* want the character to go back home.
5. Then comes the critical choice. This is where the character's true colors shine. This can't be something that happens to the character, this has to be an event that shows the character making a crucial decision. Should the character jet back home, or should the character stay and fight to save the world he/she has become a part of? The critical choice is usually the most difficult choice for the character to make. Yeah, it would be easier to go back home, but the harder choice would be to stay and fight. If your character has mettle, he/she will make the *right* critical choice.
6. So, your character makes the critical choice to stay and fight, and that brings the story to its climax. What happens after this choice is made should be dramatic, building tension so that you can't wait to see if the character wins or fails. Your character's critical choice could be facing some inherent evil overlord, someone who is stronger than your character, and maybe your character (or others close to the main character) feels he/she has little chance of winning.
7. Your main character is afraid but moves forward into battle...and then comes the reversal. The main character is stronger than anyone realized, and the evil overlord has underestimated his opponent. The evil overlord is defeated by the main character.
8. It's time to bring your story to its resolution. Your story returns to stasis, and your main character should have undergone a change and has learned through his/her ordeal. The story should be resolved (and this is important) but could also end with another trigger for a sequel. Your character won the battle with the evil overlord, but didn't kill him. The evil overlord has vowed vengence and will return.
So, not only is it vitally important to have a story arc, it's also vitally important to have resolution. Don't leave the story suspended at the end hoping to titillate your readers to wait for the sequel. That's just mean!
So, what's a story arc? The best explanation comes from Nigel Watt's Writing a Story and Getting Published. Nigel describes the 8 point story arc. In summary:
1. Stasis, the every day life in which the story is set. This is the setting in which the character lives, whether it be with an adoptive family, the mean halls of high school, a bored princess.
2. Trigger, which is something beyond the main character's control and which sparks the story. In a fantasy, this could be your main character falling into a portal into another world.
3. The quest stems from the trigger. If your main character fell through a portal into another world, his/her quest may be to get back home.
4. The surprise is the whole middle of the story. These could be nice surprises, but usually involves conflicts, obstacles, complications and trouble for your main character. After all, if your character found it easy to get back home after falling through the portal, that would be a pretty boring story. The writer shouldn't throw in random "surprises"...they all should be linked and make sense. Going with our falling through the portal theme, a surprise could be that after falling through the portal, the character discovers he/she plays an important role in that world's political structure. There may be forces at work that do *not* want the character to go back home.
5. Then comes the critical choice. This is where the character's true colors shine. This can't be something that happens to the character, this has to be an event that shows the character making a crucial decision. Should the character jet back home, or should the character stay and fight to save the world he/she has become a part of? The critical choice is usually the most difficult choice for the character to make. Yeah, it would be easier to go back home, but the harder choice would be to stay and fight. If your character has mettle, he/she will make the *right* critical choice.
6. So, your character makes the critical choice to stay and fight, and that brings the story to its climax. What happens after this choice is made should be dramatic, building tension so that you can't wait to see if the character wins or fails. Your character's critical choice could be facing some inherent evil overlord, someone who is stronger than your character, and maybe your character (or others close to the main character) feels he/she has little chance of winning.
7. Your main character is afraid but moves forward into battle...and then comes the reversal. The main character is stronger than anyone realized, and the evil overlord has underestimated his opponent. The evil overlord is defeated by the main character.
8. It's time to bring your story to its resolution. Your story returns to stasis, and your main character should have undergone a change and has learned through his/her ordeal. The story should be resolved (and this is important) but could also end with another trigger for a sequel. Your character won the battle with the evil overlord, but didn't kill him. The evil overlord has vowed vengence and will return.
So, not only is it vitally important to have a story arc, it's also vitally important to have resolution. Don't leave the story suspended at the end hoping to titillate your readers to wait for the sequel. That's just mean!
Friday, July 8, 2011
Writer's Block: Show, Don't Tell
An interesting comment was made with respect to one of my books, where the reviewer mentioned that I had done too much telling, and not enough showing. Of course, that comment made me say, "Hmmm."
Ever since I began writing seriously over a decade ago, the first rule of writing "show, don't tell" has been scarred into my brain, so the comment caught me by surprise. I decided that I needed a refresher on the "show, don't tell" rule.
Basically, the "show" rule adds imagery and dimension to your characters, setting and emotion. This can be accomplished best through the senses...sight, sound, taste, touch. If I tell you I'm scared, you'll say, "Okay, I'll take your word for it." If you *see* that my eyes are bulging, you *smell* my sweat, you *hear* the whimpers back in my throat, you're pretty much clued in to my distress.
When you're writing a scene, visualize every detail like it's a movie inside your head. Then write down everything you see, hear, feel, taste. Fear is often described as a metallic taste, so taste can play an important role in showing, and is often overlooked. Use the visual description to really connect your reader to the moment. The end goal here is to have the reader experience the movie inside your head.
Tell Example:
Petrified, I searched for a place to hide.
Show Example:
My breath, escaping in short spurts, matched my heart beats. I clutched my chest with both hands, searching for somewhere to hide.
I will admit, sometimes I use a mixture of showing and telling; mostly this involves adding the character's internalization with what the character is seeing/hearing/feeling:
I tilted my head. For the first time, I noticed she wasn't so put together. One side of her shirt had untucked from her jeans due to her plucking fingers, her hair was falling out of its ponytail, and her gaze shifted criminally.
As a matter of course, I will pay closer attention when writing to make sure I don't fall into the "tell trap" too often. A good lesson for all writers to keep in mind...even experienced ones.
Ever since I began writing seriously over a decade ago, the first rule of writing "show, don't tell" has been scarred into my brain, so the comment caught me by surprise. I decided that I needed a refresher on the "show, don't tell" rule.
Basically, the "show" rule adds imagery and dimension to your characters, setting and emotion. This can be accomplished best through the senses...sight, sound, taste, touch. If I tell you I'm scared, you'll say, "Okay, I'll take your word for it." If you *see* that my eyes are bulging, you *smell* my sweat, you *hear* the whimpers back in my throat, you're pretty much clued in to my distress.
When you're writing a scene, visualize every detail like it's a movie inside your head. Then write down everything you see, hear, feel, taste. Fear is often described as a metallic taste, so taste can play an important role in showing, and is often overlooked. Use the visual description to really connect your reader to the moment. The end goal here is to have the reader experience the movie inside your head.
Tell Example:
Petrified, I searched for a place to hide.
Show Example:
My breath, escaping in short spurts, matched my heart beats. I clutched my chest with both hands, searching for somewhere to hide.
I will admit, sometimes I use a mixture of showing and telling; mostly this involves adding the character's internalization with what the character is seeing/hearing/feeling:
I tilted my head. For the first time, I noticed she wasn't so put together. One side of her shirt had untucked from her jeans due to her plucking fingers, her hair was falling out of its ponytail, and her gaze shifted criminally.
As a matter of course, I will pay closer attention when writing to make sure I don't fall into the "tell trap" too often. A good lesson for all writers to keep in mind...even experienced ones.
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