Tuesday 10 August 2010
A rare book post
I've recently spent the last four or five days absolutely engrossed in Stephen King's latest offering, Under The Dome.
A flawed hero, a (middle aged) heroine (no young nubile blonde here), a variety of utterly believable villains and a (contained) apocalypse - this book has it all and has echo's of that older piece of King's genius, The Stand.
This blog is supposed to be about my own writing, but I'll be the first to admit that it's not unlike a desert scrub-land in here, so if I read something that engrosses/moves me, I'll write a mini post about it and then link to it here. Forgive me for my book whoring, (my pleasure in the written word has always been my biggest love) and enjoy.
Wednesday 7 July 2010
Lethargy or writers block: this is the question
I've found it very hard to write these last few months.
I've had two weeks of annual leave and barely looked at the work in progress during that time, and when I am working the job that pays the bills, I spend my meal break on the work computer, browsing for vegetarian recipes for my new (re)found vegetarian lifestyle.
The work computer is partly to blame. A new system was installed a few months ago that allowed us to access web sites we had previously been barred from seeing - don't get too excited; the sites in question are just google, play/amazon and a forum if you're lucky. However, they don't allow us to use external USB sticks in the new system because everything is now rerouted through a remote drive. Or something.
We can, however, still access the old system, which does allow us to use the beloved external USB stick, thus enabling us to write to our hearts content (my multiple demons and I) except that I have no access to google or indeed any sites that enable me to unstick myself from the ruts I find myself stuck in when my story is in a place that makes me want to tear the whole thing apart and use it as proverbial kindling.
And that's where I'm to blame.
I loved my underground story. I was going to take myself out of my comfort zone and be the new Neil Gaimian/Terry Pratchett. And had I decided to write a short story, I probably could have made it work too. Except that my writing style is more descriptive and serious than the opening of my WIP would have you believe, and thus I have something that starts in a lighthearted, funny, Terry Pratchett way and then gradually skydives into Anne Rice (well, not really, but not far off IMO).
And as I'd written in my previous post on genres - the later, more serious story I'd played around with is very much in keeping with my writing style, except that while I have a few people raving about it (and actually preferring it to my Underground story, the bloody cheek!) there are others who point out that it's been done before (I haven't read the published stories but I'm curious to know how similar they are to my idea) and it's pointless working on it if it's only going to end up being compared to an original idea.
And about the Underground story - I'm in an uncomfortable place with it at the moment. I have a vague idea of where I want my character to go now, but I just can't figure out how to get him there! And the middle feels too rushed. The ideas I'd originally had have ended up being ignored for the sake of fast-routing and I feel as though I've done my WIP a disservice, but I have no idea where to go back to change it.
I am trying to drill a new mantra into my thick skull: The Key is in the EDITING.
The work computer is partly to blame. A new system was installed a few months ago that allowed us to access web sites we had previously been barred from seeing - don't get too excited; the sites in question are just google, play/amazon and a forum if you're lucky. However, they don't allow us to use external USB sticks in the new system because everything is now rerouted through a remote drive. Or something.
We can, however, still access the old system, which does allow us to use the beloved external USB stick, thus enabling us to write to our hearts content (my multiple demons and I) except that I have no access to google or indeed any sites that enable me to unstick myself from the ruts I find myself stuck in when my story is in a place that makes me want to tear the whole thing apart and use it as proverbial kindling.
And that's where I'm to blame.
I loved my underground story. I was going to take myself out of my comfort zone and be the new Neil Gaimian/Terry Pratchett. And had I decided to write a short story, I probably could have made it work too. Except that my writing style is more descriptive and serious than the opening of my WIP would have you believe, and thus I have something that starts in a lighthearted, funny, Terry Pratchett way and then gradually skydives into Anne Rice (well, not really, but not far off IMO).
And as I'd written in my previous post on genres - the later, more serious story I'd played around with is very much in keeping with my writing style, except that while I have a few people raving about it (and actually preferring it to my Underground story, the bloody cheek!) there are others who point out that it's been done before (I haven't read the published stories but I'm curious to know how similar they are to my idea) and it's pointless working on it if it's only going to end up being compared to an original idea.
And about the Underground story - I'm in an uncomfortable place with it at the moment. I have a vague idea of where I want my character to go now, but I just can't figure out how to get him there! And the middle feels too rushed. The ideas I'd originally had have ended up being ignored for the sake of fast-routing and I feel as though I've done my WIP a disservice, but I have no idea where to go back to change it.
I am trying to drill a new mantra into my thick skull: The Key is in the EDITING.
Sunday 9 May 2010
Genre's and juggling multiple idea's
I have had a love affair with the written word from the moment I could read as a child and despite countless moves, I still own books that my late grandfather brought me for various birthdays before his death when I was eleven. The stories I loved were fantasy and I would slip away to Narnia or Wonderland on a frequent basis.
I have wanted to write since I was eleven years old. I would sneak books into my classes at secondary school and attempt to read them discreetly beneath the tables rather than pay attention to whichever dull class I happen to be in and I remember having a book taken away from me by my science teacher who appeared shocked at the book cover of some naked woman barely covered by a man’s precisely placed arms. Unsurprisingly, I failed at school because I would rather daydream about my characters than pay attention. Even English couldn’t tempt me – I didn’t want to read the classics, or books based in the depression. If I’d have been handed the Hobbit, or Lord of the Rings, I’d have been in my element.
The genre of my own writing has always escaped me. Back when I was a child, I was living in a house with two adults that made no secret of the fact that their love for each other was dead. A market stall in the town centre would sell Mills & Boon books for 25p and by the time I was thirteen I would scrape together whatever money I could find to buy them. I loved reading them and wanted desperately to believe that real love existed. I wanted to write the ultimate love stories myself.
At the age of sixteen I wrote the first few chapters of an outlandish and fantastical love story that I sent to Mills & Boon. We shall call this manuscript 1. It was utter nonsense and while, fifteen years later I am completely unsurprised my idea was rejected (probably with much sniggering involved) at that time I was completely devastated. A month or so later I experienced my first callous boyfriend and discovered first hand that love or romance do not necessarily equate to a happy ending. I put the Mills & Boon away and grew sceptical.
I didn’t stop writing. A decade ago I began a story that could only become a thriller, which will be known as manuscript 2. I barely read thrillers and the process of writing one was impossible. I continued trying for the best part of the last decade before deciding a few years back that the story should be laid to rest. It had a fantastic opening, but I could never seem to make my character move forward. It took me countless re-writes before I realised that I just couldn’t write it. I didn’t write for awhile after that. I’d spent so long focussing on the one story that I couldn’t see anything else.
About three years ago I had an idea for a children’s fantasy story, manuscript 3. I still think it’s a good story, except that I’d had no idea that writing for teens could be so hard. My writing style is naturally hard edged and I found the need to soften and simplify wearing. I re-wrote the story a dozen or so times. After awhile, I found myself falling out of love with it. I just couldn’t face the idea of going back to rectify it any more. But I persisted. I tried forcing myself to go through the motions.
I was sitting in a classroom when the inspiration for my current story, manuscript 4, came to me, back in September ’08. I wrote the opening while in the classroom and then tried to put it aside so that I could concentrate on my children’s fantasy. My resolve lasted almost a year before I gave up on the children’s story and began working on the newer idea instead. The work in progress started as black humorous fantasy. I’m finding it hard to inject it with humour now but it’s still dark fantasy.
Except that over the last few months I’ve had an idea swimming around in the back of my head, manuscript 5, that is nothing to do with the work in progress. It’s a dark fantasy. It has echoes of manuscript 2 that I’d put to sleep. It’s not a definitive idea, but when I have a free moment and I find my mind wandering, I find that I’ve been thinking about it.
I don’t want to concentrate on manuscript 5. Manuscript 4 is like an octopus with multiple legs I have to concentrate on to ensure that nothing gets missed. There are so many facets to the story that if I make the mistake of forgetting one thing, I’ll end up with dozens of untied strands and I hate reading books that don’t bother solving the loose strand problems – I don’t want to end up producing one myself.
I have also made the mistake of allowing somebody to read the opening to both manuscript 4 & 5. This person is completely unimportant and their opinion is irrelevant. I work with this person occasionally and this person makes it extremely clear that he thinks that manuscript 5 is the one. He wants me to throw away all of the hard work I have poured into manuscript 4 and work on the newer one. I have made it clear that I will not and he spends the entire time I work with him badgering me to continue writing the one he likes. He says that he is intrigued.
It’s beginning to make me doubt myself. And I find it hard to write when I doubt the story.
It occurs to me that I may well be my own worst enemy when it comes to my writing. I love writing, but I wonder if I should be stricter with myself and refuse to acknowledge the newer stories until I am done with my current manuscript? Is it the act of putting the skeleton of the other ideas on paper that begins the process of making their puzzle pieces present themselves?
But if I were to ignore them completely, by the time I am done with my current project, will I then have lost the voice of the other story?
And just what genre am I supposed to write anyway? If I write (and manage to publish) manuscript 4 I will be pigeon-holed as humorous fantasy. If I then send off manuscript 5, despite it being a strong fantasy idea, it isn’t humour (and it can’t be turned into humour – it just wouldn’t work).
And once I’ve had time to reconnect again, I’d love to work on manuscript 3 at some point, but again, it isn’t humour.
I think this may have to be something I think about again once manuscript 4 is finished.
I have wanted to write since I was eleven years old. I would sneak books into my classes at secondary school and attempt to read them discreetly beneath the tables rather than pay attention to whichever dull class I happen to be in and I remember having a book taken away from me by my science teacher who appeared shocked at the book cover of some naked woman barely covered by a man’s precisely placed arms. Unsurprisingly, I failed at school because I would rather daydream about my characters than pay attention. Even English couldn’t tempt me – I didn’t want to read the classics, or books based in the depression. If I’d have been handed the Hobbit, or Lord of the Rings, I’d have been in my element.
The genre of my own writing has always escaped me. Back when I was a child, I was living in a house with two adults that made no secret of the fact that their love for each other was dead. A market stall in the town centre would sell Mills & Boon books for 25p and by the time I was thirteen I would scrape together whatever money I could find to buy them. I loved reading them and wanted desperately to believe that real love existed. I wanted to write the ultimate love stories myself.
At the age of sixteen I wrote the first few chapters of an outlandish and fantastical love story that I sent to Mills & Boon. We shall call this manuscript 1. It was utter nonsense and while, fifteen years later I am completely unsurprised my idea was rejected (probably with much sniggering involved) at that time I was completely devastated. A month or so later I experienced my first callous boyfriend and discovered first hand that love or romance do not necessarily equate to a happy ending. I put the Mills & Boon away and grew sceptical.
I didn’t stop writing. A decade ago I began a story that could only become a thriller, which will be known as manuscript 2. I barely read thrillers and the process of writing one was impossible. I continued trying for the best part of the last decade before deciding a few years back that the story should be laid to rest. It had a fantastic opening, but I could never seem to make my character move forward. It took me countless re-writes before I realised that I just couldn’t write it. I didn’t write for awhile after that. I’d spent so long focussing on the one story that I couldn’t see anything else.
About three years ago I had an idea for a children’s fantasy story, manuscript 3. I still think it’s a good story, except that I’d had no idea that writing for teens could be so hard. My writing style is naturally hard edged and I found the need to soften and simplify wearing. I re-wrote the story a dozen or so times. After awhile, I found myself falling out of love with it. I just couldn’t face the idea of going back to rectify it any more. But I persisted. I tried forcing myself to go through the motions.
I was sitting in a classroom when the inspiration for my current story, manuscript 4, came to me, back in September ’08. I wrote the opening while in the classroom and then tried to put it aside so that I could concentrate on my children’s fantasy. My resolve lasted almost a year before I gave up on the children’s story and began working on the newer idea instead. The work in progress started as black humorous fantasy. I’m finding it hard to inject it with humour now but it’s still dark fantasy.
Except that over the last few months I’ve had an idea swimming around in the back of my head, manuscript 5, that is nothing to do with the work in progress. It’s a dark fantasy. It has echoes of manuscript 2 that I’d put to sleep. It’s not a definitive idea, but when I have a free moment and I find my mind wandering, I find that I’ve been thinking about it.
I don’t want to concentrate on manuscript 5. Manuscript 4 is like an octopus with multiple legs I have to concentrate on to ensure that nothing gets missed. There are so many facets to the story that if I make the mistake of forgetting one thing, I’ll end up with dozens of untied strands and I hate reading books that don’t bother solving the loose strand problems – I don’t want to end up producing one myself.
I have also made the mistake of allowing somebody to read the opening to both manuscript 4 & 5. This person is completely unimportant and their opinion is irrelevant. I work with this person occasionally and this person makes it extremely clear that he thinks that manuscript 5 is the one. He wants me to throw away all of the hard work I have poured into manuscript 4 and work on the newer one. I have made it clear that I will not and he spends the entire time I work with him badgering me to continue writing the one he likes. He says that he is intrigued.
It’s beginning to make me doubt myself. And I find it hard to write when I doubt the story.
It occurs to me that I may well be my own worst enemy when it comes to my writing. I love writing, but I wonder if I should be stricter with myself and refuse to acknowledge the newer stories until I am done with my current manuscript? Is it the act of putting the skeleton of the other ideas on paper that begins the process of making their puzzle pieces present themselves?
But if I were to ignore them completely, by the time I am done with my current project, will I then have lost the voice of the other story?
And just what genre am I supposed to write anyway? If I write (and manage to publish) manuscript 4 I will be pigeon-holed as humorous fantasy. If I then send off manuscript 5, despite it being a strong fantasy idea, it isn’t humour (and it can’t be turned into humour – it just wouldn’t work).
And once I’ve had time to reconnect again, I’d love to work on manuscript 3 at some point, but again, it isn’t humour.
I think this may have to be something I think about again once manuscript 4 is finished.
Thursday 15 April 2010
The art of editing
I'm almost halfway to my chosen word count of 100k words and after finishing what will be chapter twelve, made a start on the next chapter.
It was whilst writing this next chapter that I realised that I had made the story incredibly hard by introducing an element a little too prematurely. Now to be fair, this element just seemed to write itself; I’d had no intention or even any idea that this element existed until I typed it and I love it when these things happen because they usually tie into the story extremely well. This particular element could tie in quite nicely and could certainly explain an incident that happens later. Except that I had written half of chapter thirteen, which is quite a necessary chapter, before realising that it just wouldn’t work at this point.
I have spent this evening editing and re-writing the end of chapter twelve, which was extremely easy: I just had to cut the original end of the chapter and paste it at the end of the document to be looked at when I feel the time is right to re-introduce it, and then write a different ending for the chapter. Except that I now have the task of looking at chapter thirteen and it is not going to be as easy. A small part of me dreads the editing ahead of me, while, thankfully, a much larger part can’t wait to get stuck in.
It was as I was editing chapter twelve that it occurred to me that this entire story has been re-written over and over again. I write something and then delete the whole thing weeks or months later because I’m not happy with it. While the idea of the original story is still in there, it has morphed into something that I’d certainly never envisaged when I’d first put pen to paper almost eighteen months ago. It makes me wonder how much of the writing I am currently doing is actually going to survive into the final product. It’s quite insane to think that things that aren’t on page yet are going to end up being deleted and re-written in the future – how bizarre and faintly ridiculous. It’s at times like these when I can’t stop my brain from racing ahead when I wonder what all of this furious tapping on my keyboard is in aid of.
But then I remind myself that nobody manages to write a first draft that doesn’t need tweaking. Every single writer out there, from Anne Rice to J.R.R. Tolkien has looked at their first, second and possibly even their twentieth draft and made necessary changes to ensure that the reader finds the story seamless.
I suppose that I can only hope that all of this editing pays off in the end.
It was whilst writing this next chapter that I realised that I had made the story incredibly hard by introducing an element a little too prematurely. Now to be fair, this element just seemed to write itself; I’d had no intention or even any idea that this element existed until I typed it and I love it when these things happen because they usually tie into the story extremely well. This particular element could tie in quite nicely and could certainly explain an incident that happens later. Except that I had written half of chapter thirteen, which is quite a necessary chapter, before realising that it just wouldn’t work at this point.
I have spent this evening editing and re-writing the end of chapter twelve, which was extremely easy: I just had to cut the original end of the chapter and paste it at the end of the document to be looked at when I feel the time is right to re-introduce it, and then write a different ending for the chapter. Except that I now have the task of looking at chapter thirteen and it is not going to be as easy. A small part of me dreads the editing ahead of me, while, thankfully, a much larger part can’t wait to get stuck in.
It was as I was editing chapter twelve that it occurred to me that this entire story has been re-written over and over again. I write something and then delete the whole thing weeks or months later because I’m not happy with it. While the idea of the original story is still in there, it has morphed into something that I’d certainly never envisaged when I’d first put pen to paper almost eighteen months ago. It makes me wonder how much of the writing I am currently doing is actually going to survive into the final product. It’s quite insane to think that things that aren’t on page yet are going to end up being deleted and re-written in the future – how bizarre and faintly ridiculous. It’s at times like these when I can’t stop my brain from racing ahead when I wonder what all of this furious tapping on my keyboard is in aid of.
But then I remind myself that nobody manages to write a first draft that doesn’t need tweaking. Every single writer out there, from Anne Rice to J.R.R. Tolkien has looked at their first, second and possibly even their twentieth draft and made necessary changes to ensure that the reader finds the story seamless.
I suppose that I can only hope that all of this editing pays off in the end.
Monday 12 April 2010
The pro's and con's of being an Iphone (semi) dependent writer
My second post in two days. I can't pretend that this will continue unless I can find a decent app for the Iphone that will allow me to post while I am travelling to/from or at work (the shift work job that allows me to pay the bills while dreaming of one day being free of its tedious confines).
This post is actually to do with the Iphone. I signed a contract for my first 3G just a little over 18 months ago, and have just begun a new 24 month contract for my new 3GS. Before applying for the phone I'd heard how utterly fantastic it was (I'd agree 100% if it would allow multi-tasking between apps and enable the use of flash, but I still agree that it is pretty damned good) but was stunned at the news that a newly published author had written his entire novel on his Iphone. I remember thinking how ridiculous it was (and to be fair, I still think this) because the auto-dictionary is extremely basic, the keys are too annoying for extended use and the battery life is dire. I find myself carrying a charger wherever I travel in the hope of being able to power my failing battery.
However, since beginning the writing of my own manuscript (on a computer) I have realised the joys of using the notes app to write. I do not limit myself to the notes app, but it is an extremely useful tool for when I am stuck on an early or late shift in my bill-paying job. I am then able to email the note to myself and copy the notes into a word document.
What follows then is an awful lot of cursing at the appalling spelling (while my fingers are quite thin, they can also be quite clumsy) and the fact that the sentences have been dismembered and spread across the page. I despise that my writing muse seems to appear while I have no other means but my Iphone. I become frustrated when it appears that I have to edit entire pages of words when I would much rather be thrusting my hero in new and unfortunate situations.
So, while I love my Iphone and thus it's notes app for enabling me to not be stuck with carrying a pad and pen on my person at all times (as I was in the times when I had only my Sony Ericson to use previously) I become frustrated with having to stifle my muse while I correct mistakes and layout when I have the freedom of a computer at my fingertips.
This post is actually to do with the Iphone. I signed a contract for my first 3G just a little over 18 months ago, and have just begun a new 24 month contract for my new 3GS. Before applying for the phone I'd heard how utterly fantastic it was (I'd agree 100% if it would allow multi-tasking between apps and enable the use of flash, but I still agree that it is pretty damned good) but was stunned at the news that a newly published author had written his entire novel on his Iphone. I remember thinking how ridiculous it was (and to be fair, I still think this) because the auto-dictionary is extremely basic, the keys are too annoying for extended use and the battery life is dire. I find myself carrying a charger wherever I travel in the hope of being able to power my failing battery.
However, since beginning the writing of my own manuscript (on a computer) I have realised the joys of using the notes app to write. I do not limit myself to the notes app, but it is an extremely useful tool for when I am stuck on an early or late shift in my bill-paying job. I am then able to email the note to myself and copy the notes into a word document.
What follows then is an awful lot of cursing at the appalling spelling (while my fingers are quite thin, they can also be quite clumsy) and the fact that the sentences have been dismembered and spread across the page. I despise that my writing muse seems to appear while I have no other means but my Iphone. I become frustrated when it appears that I have to edit entire pages of words when I would much rather be thrusting my hero in new and unfortunate situations.
So, while I love my Iphone and thus it's notes app for enabling me to not be stuck with carrying a pad and pen on my person at all times (as I was in the times when I had only my Sony Ericson to use previously) I become frustrated with having to stifle my muse while I correct mistakes and layout when I have the freedom of a computer at my fingertips.
New beginnings
I have read many blogs that I find interesting, entertaining and at times, downright titillating. I have absolutely no idea if I can even entertain the thought of matching any of them, but I plan to use this as a creative outlet on the occasions that I remember.
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