Nethermore

Part of the reason I started this blog was to note the patterns in my life and the obstacles in those patterns that keep me from writing. Since April I’ve noticed many patterns and have even been able to use some of them to my benefit in getting writing done–as long as I stick to the “Writing Rules” that I’ve given myself.

One of the obstacles that I’m still having trouble with is my tendancy to do too much. A lot of us artist types are interested in just about everything. For example, I like to draw. I like to paint. I like to build things. I write music. I play the guitar. I love languages. I love to read.

I’m just naming a few things. I mean, I’d love to learn how to do metalurgy and fix cars and write screenplays. I’d love to create a podcast for the website and a webtoon and a webcomic, among other things.

There’s not enough time to be a jack-of-all-trades. The addage holds true: “Jack of All Trades; Master of None.” I’m proof of that.

But I’m trying to rein myself in and focus. I took my guitars and amps home to Idaho this weekend to store in my parents’ basement. I gave back the German books I borrowed from my brother. And I’m trying to get all my outside art projects taken care of so that I can spend more time on what I want most: to write.

These other things all have feelings of accomplishment linked with finishing related projects. But writing is what I love. The moments I get to spend working on my book are like breaths of fresh air in a world otherwise polluted.

Regardless of what I’ve been doing to trim unnecessary things out of my life, one fact still remains.

I still feel overloaded. I’ve got to learn how to say, “No!” And not a wimpy no, but an emphatic NO! that carries with it the unspoken message, “If you ask me again I’ll your hair on fire.”

So lately I’ve been going full steam to get these outside projects out of the way so that when I get home, I can write instead of worry about deadlines for projects I’ve promised to help people with.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind helping people out.

But it’s time to help myself out and get that book done and then send it out and write another book.

I’m going to accept the occassional project. But writing is my priority.

I was talking with a friend yesterday about Vernor Vinge. My friend just finished reading A Deepness in the Sky, and I’m still partway through A Fire Upon the Deep. A lot of people have told me that they like to read Vinge because he makes his readers feel smart. He doesn’t spell everything out for them.

The conversation got me to thinking about my own style of writing in the first draft. My super writing weakness (one of them, anyway) is using big sections of text to explain what’s going on rather than revealing character, setting, and plot by showing what’s happening. Usually I go back through on the second draft and delete these infodumps in order to let my readers connect the dots.

So, revealing the story so that the reader can figure it out seems to be a balancing act. It’s akin to those old connect-the-dots exercises in activity books. The writer’s job is to draw enough dots that the reader can connect them correctly in order to see the big picture.

The writers who draw too many dots, or connect dots that readers can obviously connect by themselves, make a reader feel stupid. A writer who draws just enough dots and lets the readers connect the rest make readers feel smart. A writer who draws too few dots will make discerning readers feel smart and the rest of the readers feel stupid and/or confused.

According to my friend, Vinge makes some readers feels smart and others feel stupid/confused. I can’t tell from my own experience of Vinge, since I’m not done with the book yet. But the prologue to that thing had me scratching me head, wondering where exactly to connect the dots.

Anyway, just another way to look at infodumps. I’m striving for the middle ground. Not too hot, not too cold. But that medium amount of dot drawing that is considered just right.

Last night I had a discussion with a member of my writing group about Focus and Conflict in fiction. It reminded me of a man I met when I was a missionary in the Philippines.

Orlando Salcedo worked for some time as a writer for comics. Now, the comics in the Philippines are less the superhero kind and more on a subtle, relationship level. He gave me a stack of photocopies of the comics that he wrote before I left to return to the States. The stories ranged from “What should the family do for Christmas?” to “I think my girlfriend loves another man.”

Regardless of whether these types of stories have any interest to you, the principle these stories presented can be applied to all types of fiction.

One day Orlando pulled me aside. “You want to be a writer?” he asked. “Then there is one thing you should always remember. A story starts with a problem and ends when that problem is resolved.”

This fits right in with how to fix a sagging middle in a book. Most times when this happens, the author has forgotten to keep the conflict–the problems–coming in. When the problems stop but the story keeps going, the story slows down because the reader unconsciously thinks the story should be over.

I discussed this concept with Janci from my writing group, and she shared a little about what she’s learning from revising her latest novel.

Every writer has a different modus operandi when it comes to writing books. Some focus on plot, others on character, etc. Janci focuses on character and has felt in the past that her stories lacked plot.

But this latest story has a plot! she says. And she didn’t even have to “plot” the story. The reason this works for her is that she keeps the conflict coming, the problems rolling. If one problem is about to be solved, she makes sure that there’s another problem that arises. This keeps up the tension–and the reader’s interest.

I’m going to try this method of “plotting” as I write one of the viewpoints in Nethermore and see how well it goes. I figure it can’t turn out all that bad. Afterall, this is the same way that Stephen King describes his writing process in his book On Writing.

In other news, I came across an interesting website called Write a Novel. It looks like it’s basically tutorials on how to write. Seems like it might be a great writing resource. I’m still in the process of perusing it and seeing what I think.

For meeting editors, agents, and authors, the big conventions are the places one should go, and the World Science Fiction Convention did not disappoint this year.

There were way too many panels and too little time to go to all of them. I was satisfied to make it to the “Upcoming Books” panels put on by the various publishers. I also sat in on a few writing panels, including the very helpful, “Revise, revise, revise!” which gave me some great insights into the writing and revision process.

The Hugo Awards were put together well this year, with Guest-of-Honor Connie Willis as master of ceremonies. She and Robert Silverberg had great dynamics together. A speech by Harlan Ellison was very . . . interesting and colorful. And a surprise visit from Morena Baccarin, accepting the Hugo for Jos Whedon’s Serenity, left the audience in awe of her beauty, poise, and delivery.

From listening to the panels and the editors and authors, the trends right now are in historical fantasy (Jonathon Strange & Mr. Norell, His Majesty’s Dragon, and more), vampires (too many to name—an absurd number), paranormal romance (again, too many to name), and good science fiction (anything Pyr books publishes).

I attended two kaffeklatches—a group of ten people making an appointment to speak with an author or editor—and talked with editors Jim Frenkel (Tor books) and Lou Anders (Pyr book’s one-man editing machine). Both sessions were good and informative. More about Pyr books tomorrow. They deserve a whole post.

I’ve been reading books on writing in my few moments before turning the light off and sleeping. I finished Scott Meredith’s book a few weeks ago and have since turned to Sol Stein’s book How to Grow a Novel: the Most Common Mistakes Writers Make and How to Overcome Them.

Last night I came across this passage in Stein’s book that accurately describes what I’ve been feeling since I haven’t been consistently producing on my own book.

The definition “a writer is someone who cannot not write” may seem clumsy, but acquaintance will reveal its eccentric virtue. Consider the opposite: a nonwriter is someone who can writer or not, who does not have the drive and need to put words to paper.

A writer is someone who looks forward to the day’s work, even if it lasts only an hour or two before the writer has to dash to a job that supports him and his family until such happy time that the writing itself may be economically rewarding. On those days when external circumstances prevent his writing, a writer feels a hollowness, an absence, a longing.

I haven’t talked about writing much in the last month or more because I really haven’t been doing much of it. I’ve thought about it a lot, but thinking won’t write the book for me. I keep trying to blame it on “being busy” but I don’t think that is accurate or legitimate because there are plenty of people I know who are just as busy (or busier!) than I am and still get writing done.

Regardless of my reasons for not writing, I am feeling the acute emptiness—”an absence, a longing”—that comes from neglecting this need.

I better get back on this train before it leaves me behind.

Well, I’m back into the writing after a three week hiatus. Part Two of Nethermore is outlined, and I started the actual writing of it last night. Rather than run myself into the ground by writing three and four thousand words a day, I’m going to keep my goal reasonable (1000 words a day) in order to maintain some kind of a balance in my life. That doesn’t mean that I won’t be doing more than that. It’s about an hour of work each evening. I think I can do that.

My friend Shawn Boyles has set up a blog over at blogspot. It’s called Spike the Surf Dog, and today he posted a picture of . . . well, Spike the Surf Dog. I love the story about how he came up with the name, and I love that dog’s Hawaiian shorts—gotta get me some of those.

When I was 19 my family took a vacation to Hawaii, and me and my Dad learned to surf from a guy who called himself Spike the Surf Dog. I had never heard somebody actually pray for Groovy waves before.

Well, that’s what I’ll be praying for as I continue to write this book. Groovy waves. Groovy waves for everyone.

Spent the evening organizing notes for Part Two of Nethermore. Whizfolders, the program I mentioned a few days ago, is a superb tool for outlining a novel. It’s also great for organizing the random notes and things that come along with writing. In the future I can see using at least two of these files for each novel. One would be for the book’s “bible,” which would include notes on the characters (descriptions, motivations, etc), notes on the countries, magic systems, languages, and whatever else I need as far as reference. The second file would hold the outline and storyline brainstorming.

The program is surprisingly simple. It has a two-pane window which you can customize to be side-by-side or top and bottom. The left side has a hierarchy of notes with titles that represent what is contained in each note. The right side shows the contents of the note that is selected.

I started by creating three notes, labeled “Part One,” “Part Two,” and “Part Three.” From there, I started filling in the gaps, focusing primarily on Part Two, since that’s the part that I’m about to start writing.

Anyway, I’ve been searching for something to help organize the book, and I think Whizfolders is the solution. I’ll definitely be buying the full version when my 30-day trial runs out.

L. Ron Hubbard’s Writers of the Future Contest has been in operation for more than twenty years now and is one of the best ways for a writer to break into the business. Countless writers now writing professionally in the field broke in through the contest.

There are four quarterly contests each year, and one of them just ended on Friday, June 30th. I’ve been trying for the last several quarters to have a story ready to submit to the contest, but the deadlines have come and gone, and I didn’t take the time to do the necessary revisions.

I was in the same position Friday. My story only needed about two hours of work, but I also needed to be at the day job. My brother convinced me to take a half day off to work on the thing. So I did, madly typing and revising away, then printing it out, addressing the envelope, and racing to the Post Office to get it postmarked in time. I arrived five minutes before closing.

I’m a little nervous. This is the first thing I’ve submitted in quite awhile, and the newest version of this story didn’t have anyone read through it first before it got put in the mail. So, now it’s time to get back to working on the novel. Chances are, I’ll forget about the submission by the time I receive news back on its status.

The author’s name is left off the submissions to keep the judging fair. So, when I hear back on the story, I’ll report the title, as well.

In other news, I decided to stick with the same blog format and just change the colors around. Still working on getting the text the right color, but I’m liking this look better than the old site. And I promise I’ll have some galleries up soon!

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!”

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.