Nethermore

I’m tired of the fry sauce color of the blog, so expect an updated design by Monday. I hope to have some of the galleries up and working by that time as well. I’m changing to a left-side sidebar format with a little more open space for the actual writing. The site will thereafter be based upon the Fluidity WordPress theme by Kaushal Sheth.

Spent some time with a friend last night who is into astral projection, metaphysics, and lucid dreaming. The conversation got my mind to racing about how to solidify some of the dream interactions that take place in Nethermore.

It’s been quite the busy week what with the deadline for Writers of the Future being today and all the other stuff that’s been going on. Guess I should hold my breath a little longer. An even busier week is coming up.

—”Stewart!”

Last night after writing group, a friend and I discussed the need for a balance, especially when one is juggling a day job, writing, and a social life.

“I’m going to finish Nethermore,” I said. “Then I’m going to write another book, and I’ll write ten books if that’s what it takes to get just one of them published.”

“But do you want to keep up this crazy writing pace for ten years?” he asked. “You’ve learned how to begin a book and get through a big chunk of it. But now you need to learn how to balance writing with real life.”

I thought about it. I’m just at the beginning of a road that could take ten years or more to get where I want to be. To keep up the pace of writing three and four thousand words a night would do a number of things. It would wear me down. It would keep me from being social. It would take its toll on the quality of my writing and plotting as I try to rush through things just to finish the book.

In short, the break-neck pace would ruin my life. Or at least take its toll on my sanity. Writing a book as big as Nethermore is a big job—and cramming that job into a short amount of time just because of some arbitrary deadline I set for myself was unrealistic.

I’m looking for balance. Rather than quantity in a short amount of time, I’m going to strive for consistency. A thousand words a night should be a good pace. That’s about an hour for me, and it allows me time to think and plot and write instead of being focused on word count alone.

I want this book to be good, not just done.

So those of you who have been looking forward to throwing rotten fruit at me on August 1st are still welcome to do so. But I’ve achieved a huge part of my goal by figuring out how to fit writing into my life.

In all honesty, the fruit should have been thrown when I made the unrealistic goal, not when I failed to meet it.

—”Stewart!”

Went to the rodeo on Friday night and met a clown who came barrelling across the street just to get his picture taken with me. At first I thought, “Hey, maybe this is one of Stinky Hobo’s friends.” I mean, look at the picture . . . the guy even has his own blue Jikkom.

But it wasn’t a hobo. It was a clown. And evidently a famous clown.

His name is Lecile Harris, and among other things, he’s been a professional rodeo clown and on the show Hee Haw.

In other news, I’m back to writing this week. I finished Part One, and began Part Two. There will be three parts in the book, and I’m starting the longest of the three.

The last few weeks have been killer, to the point that I don’t think I’m going to make my July 31st deadline on finishing the book. But I’m not going to let that get me down (too much, anyway). I’m going to keep cranking away at the book and finish it soon, if not by July 31st.

Some of you may remember the post I wrote about Ctrl Zed a few weeks ago, complete with album covers. Last night I received this press release about the new album.

The Wait Is Almost Over

(AP/Reuters)

Sources claim that pre-production/rehearsals have indeed begun on the highly-anticipated third album from the critically acclaimed, Grammy winning, chart topping and multi-platinum selling group, CTRL ZED.

Rumor has it the new album will be professionally recorded live in a real studio this time with actual audio engineers and also the possibility of some of the classics from their previous efforts being re-recorded in order to take advantage of this studio quality. Details are sketchy at this point but the release date is rumored to be sometime Fall 2006.

Unconfirmed early spy reports from sources in attendance of the first rehearsal claim “Locomotive”, “Batwing Pegasus”, “Food!”, “Now Hiring Idiots”, “The Ballad Of George Lucas”, “18 Charisma”, “All I Smell Is Snot”, “Miracle Poo”,”Sidekick Secretary” and “Too Evil For The Basement” to be among the new song titles, however the final track listing is unknown at this time. The album is expected to be among the band’s most evil work to date.

Fans will remember the days of substance abuse, failed marriages, rehab, litigation and multiple lawsuits over royalties that plagued the band for many years, delaying and complicating further releases of the band’s work.

It is also rumored that among other extravagent demands, the band has asked the record company for bowls of strictly red M&M’s with the letters REMOVED and even chairs made of only blue Lego.

Phone calls to the agents of CTRL ZED were not returned.

When I was in the Philippines I learned this quote from a Filipino:

Kailanman ay hindi natutuklasan ang mga bagong lupain kung walang naghihintulot na tumaliwas sa tabing dagat sa isang napakahabang panahon.

Oh, you want me to translate that for you?

One does not discover new lands without first consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very long time.

That’s kind of how I’m feeling right now on the book. I’ve been able to coil up the ropes and catch wind in the sails. So far, the trek hasn’t been too treacherous, although I’ve come close to a few rocky shoals that I’ve been able to avoid.

But now I’m losing sight of the shore from which I left. The beginning is almost 80k words behind me, and I’m out at sea. Everywhere I turn all I see is ocean. The dark clouds are starting to gather on the horizon. The smooth sailing is over with. I’m going to have to push to keep at this thing.

And that’s okay.

Would it really be worth it if there wasn’t some hard work involved?

There’s no land in sight. The storms are gathering.

Meanwhile, I’m going to write my way back to shore.

Some of you have commented on how slow the progress bar is moving lately. Just hit a couple of really busy weeks is all that’s really happening. And I’ve had some freelance art jobs that I’ve been trying to tie up before deadlines. I should be good to go full steam again after this week. The deadline for the book looms, and I have friends who are already planning their trips to the grocery store in order to have fruit rotten enough to throw at me should I fail to finish the book and/or reach 200,000 words. Just FYI, I’m about 25,000 words behind schedule.

But the good news is that I’ll be house sitting for part of July. That will give me a place to retreat to for a week and a half. I also did some design work in exchange for a weekend at a condo south of here. Those two retreats will hopefully give me the time and distance to finish Nethermore.

I’ve been reading Scott Meredith’s Writing to Sell and have been learning (or re-learning) some great concepts.

What’s the difference between a story and an incident? An incident is the telling of something that happened. A story, according to Meredith, is a series of events that are causally connected in which a character has a problem, tries to solve the problem and fails, but in the end conquers the problem through his own resourcefulness.

For example, I’m going to recount a “story” in two ways. The first will be an incident, and the second will be a story.

Incident

One time we were driving from Salt Lake to Idaho Falls late at night and the Suburban threw a tire and there were sparks flying and everything when the axle hit the pavement at 65 mph. We waited around in the cold and the snow and finally a cop showed up and took us to Malad.

Story

I stole the Suburban in Salt Lake and managed to get it just past the Idaho border when it threw a tire. The vehicle tipped backward and to the right, throwing me against the strap of my seatbelt, and sparks lit up the night as the axle ground against pavement.

My heart beat faster. Adrenaline shot through my veins. Rather than slam on the breaks, I tapped them a few times as I pulled the Suburban to the side of the freeway.

There I was, twenty five miles from the nearest town on dark stretch of freeway. I was alone with nothing but a shoddy stolen car to shield me from the elements. I’d left my coat at the airport when I’d ditched it to keep people from grabbing a positive ID on me. Otherwise, I would have left the car and walked the 25 miles. Cold or not, I wasn’t going to get caught dead with a stolen Suburban because the stupid thing decided to go bad on me.

Outside, the wind was blowing. I rubbed my hands together, took a deep breath, and braved the cold to see if I could find the tire. With luck, I might be able to reattach the thing long enough to get it back to the podunk town . . . if I could even find an exit close enough to get the vehicle off the freeway and get headed in the right direction.

The snow reflected moonlight. It made it a little easier for me to see the track where the tire had rolled away off the side of the road. I headed in that direction. Already, my feet and arms were getting cold. I started into a jog. Better to get this done as fast as possible. Besides, the jog would warm me up a bit.

That’s when I saw the cop pass by. I turned and watched it flash its lights. It pulled over to the side of the road and shone a light into the stolen Suburban.

I ducked off the side of the road. Maybe he hadn’t seen me. But chances were that he had.

The story would go on to make things worse for the character. Already he’s away from civilization, the cops are onto him, and he doesn’t have a coat. The problem gets worse and worse with each thing he tries to do to fix things until in the end the problem is solved, whether he evades the police, learns his lesson, or changes his name and ends up farming in the Scottish Highlands of Idaho.

The difference between the story and the incident is the experience that the reader goes through. An incident is little more than an anecdote, like something you would read in a letter from a friend. It’s cool to get some news, but you’re not experiencing it as if you were there. In the story, the character’s problems suck you in, creating tension, and then giving you—the reader—a release of tension when the whole thing’s done. Vicariously, you are there, and hopefully the resolution will give your an endorphin release worth the time you spent reading the story.

In other news, I found a very interesting article last night about Chronic Deja Vu. Again, this is the type of news story that puts my story-making brain cells into overdrive.

Also, if any of you are interested in seeing firsthand how a published author writes a book, take a look at this post over on Brandon Sanderson’s blog. He’s writing a novel called Warbreaker and posting chapters of it as he goes for his readers to comment on. This is a great way to see an author in action.

A faithful reader sent me this movie review. He goes by the name “Chalupo.”

So I was watching this movie called Nacho Libre, and it’s doing so good that they are already coming out with a sequel on June 28th—at least that’s what the previews showed. I think it was called Nacho Returns or something, but this time our hero Ignachio has super powers. This time he has Eagle powers so he can fly, catch bullets in his eye, but is allergic to Kryptonite (I’m not sure what that means in Spanish, but I think it’s something bad).

There’s still red and blue stretchy pants, but that’s the only thing that Nacho 2 stays true to. Instead of corn on a stick, fat starving orphans, hot nuns, and iconic wrestling masks, there are explosions, a superhero pretty boy that makes all the girls in the movie jealous, and a wussy villian in a non-stretchy pants suit.

And speaking of the villain, I think his name was Lex Luche or something, and he wasn’t that impressive. He didn’t even have a mask! Mr. Luche is so jealous of Nacho’s pretty-boy looks—or maybe his red stretchy pants; I’m not sure—that he starts destroying the whole world. Except for Mexico. In fact I don’t think Mexico even exists in Nacho 2 at all. The makers of the first Nacho really forgot their Mexican wrestling roots in this one—which is sad.

So in conclusion, if you are looking for a fat wrestling friar to save the orphans check out the original Nacho. But if you want to see Nacho save the whole world, then maybe Nacho Returns is more your thing. Or not. What do I know? I’m just a man of science.

The weekends are getting busier around here. Normally I haven’t been able to get much writing done during them because of outside projects that I’ve been trying to get finishined. Fortunately, I’m getting close to the end of them, and after that, I’ll only be taking on a project here and there instead of en masse.

One of the projects I’ve been working on is taking some of the artwork that I did for the upcoming Mistborn: the Final Empire fantasy novel by Brandon Sanderson and turn them into t-shirt designs. Here’s the first shot at converting one of the chapter heading symbols into t-shirt artwork.

In writing news, I’m one scene away from finishing Part One of Nethermore. It’s been harder for me to concentrate on writing at home lately, so this week I’m headed back to the University in the evenings so I can keep myself focused during the time I’ve set aside to work on the book.

This week will have nethermore.com’s usually assortment of writing discussion and weirdness. A reader sent in a review for the movie Nacho Libre that I will be posting tomorrow. He signed the email simply “Chalupo.”

In other news, Ctrl Zed has been practicing on Saturdays for our next album. We’ve nailed down five or six songs already and will be getting the others down in the next few weeks prior to recording them. We’re looking forward to another multiple-platinum record here, so stay tuned.

What’s your excuse for not writing? Mine is lack of a secluded writing yurt that I can retire to when things get too crazy around the apartment. Or I tell myself that I’m too tired and that my writing will suffer because of it.

Scott Meredith said that most writer’s excuses are “just as make-believe as that fiction you write.” And then he offers this advice:

If you will force yourself to work out those book ideas without waiting for inspiration to slosh you across the back of the head, and if you will force yourself to write one sentene after another despite the fact that the picture is awry, and the pencils are blunt, and your family is making an awful racket, and you’re writing in one corner of a bedroom instead of in a big soundproof study, and you had a big night with the boys last night, and the stuff looks awful as you write it—you will find, when you examine it a day or two later, that the material you’ve produced is exactly as good or bad as the material you normally produce, or would produce under ideal conditions.

I think that Meredith is right on this account. The conditions for living life are rarely ideal. So if writers waited for ideal conditions in order to write their books, then nothing would ever get written. We wouldn’t have need for bookstores because all the publishers would be out of business as their writers waited for the Rapture and cleansing of the earth before things would be ideal enough to start writing that manuscript.

Meredith also suggests the need for a writing schedule. Stephen King in his book On Writing suggests the same thing. He says that you can train the muse. I suppose she gets a little jealous when you do creative things without her, so if you sit down to write at 9pm every night, then she will get the idea and start showing up at that time.

I’ve been at this for almost two months now—the writing schedule, that is—and the muse certainly does show up at 9pm for me every night. And she beats me over the head with a big book of ideas until I sit myself down in my chair and start writing.

In ancient times, the muse inspired people. In our day, the muse is more than just that. If you train her right, she will help make writing a habit for you.

A few nights ago I started reading Writing to Sell by Scott Meredith, a writer and literary agent of great renown. He created his own literary agency and represented some very big names like Arthur C. Clarke, Marion Zimmer Bradley, Ellery Queen, Carl Sagan, and Philip K. Dick. Meredith certainly had the experience to back up his writing of this book.

The first edition was published in 1950. My copy is a reprint issued in 1995 by Writer’s Digest Books. For this thing to still be in print fifty plus years since its first publication is testimony to the sound advice found in the book. Although there are a few things from the Fifties era that stand out, I don’t think I would have noticed them if I hadn’t known when the book had been originally printed.

Meredith has some very good things to say. The first chapter got me to thinking about the mentality of a writer.

In my opinion, writers can be put into two camps of people: those who want to write, and those who do write. Unfortunately, it takes a lot of will power to cross over from one category to the other.

Meredith says:

I’ve found again and again that the surest indication of the genuine writer is that amount of push and drive inside him that keeps him struggling to succeed at writing. His early scripts may not show it, and you sometimes have the feeling that the kindest thing would be to buy him a course in candymaking or welding, but if he keeps working away at it, you have the pleasure of watching his material change from terrible to fair to good to excellent.

Pure animal drive can take you from the category of “wanting to write” to the category of “actually writing.”

As I’ve heard it said before, “You’ve got to bleed words.”

It works like this in anything that you want to do. In most cases, passion and attitude can make up for whatever you may at first lack in talent.