Category: advice

This is going to be another one of those kind-of rambly ones.

Big shock, I follow a lot of other authors on social media. Some I’m a fan of, some I’m actually friends with, and there’s a pretty good-sized Venn diagram overlap there. Actually, I think it’d be a circle-within-a-circle.

Anyway…

It’s always neat to hear other writers talk about craft. Y’know, the nuts and bolts stuff I like to talk about here. Tips. Tricks. Common problems and uncommon solutions.

I bring this all up because Kameron Hurley was at a con a few weeks back and sort of live-posting things she heard from different panels. Not panels she was on, just different ones she decided to attend. So it was interesting takes on things and little snippets of advice.

Now, at one point an author on a panel brought up a certain story element and referred to it as XX. And Kameron Hurley noted that, huh, she generally called that element YY. Sad to say. this whole overall idea I’m talking about it what stuck with me and I didn’t make a note of the actual, specific element they were discussing. But we don’t really need it.

Once or thrice here I’ve talked about the idea of plot vs. story. But I’ve also mentioned that some more literature-minded folks out there might refer to these same ideas by fancy Russian names. And some folks might say what I’m calling story is just the character arc.

Writers are weird. The vast majority of us are more-or less self-taught at this, and sometimes we’re too creative for our own good. We each come up with our own unique ways to say similar things about how to tell stories in our chosen format. And once or thrice here I’ve talked about different college professors and the terms they come up with to describe those same things.

And that’s before we even get into different formats having their own terminology. Like, a scene in screenwriting is a very specific unit of storytelling, while in prose it’s a little more general. And an act is something very specific in television that’s kind of similar to an act in a play, but not at all the same thing as when we’re talking about three act structure. As I define it, anyway.

Yeah, even me. I say it here fairly often, but all the terms I use here on the ranty writing blog are just how I tend to describe these things. A couple of them I remember from college, some I picked up here or there, but a lot of the time… it’s just me. There’s a really good chance another author, an editor, a writing coach, or a random article on the web uses a different name for that exact same idea. Or maybe when they’re talking about XX on their social media or website, they mean something completely different.

Normally, no big deal. What does it matter what we call things, right? If I want to have my own special terms and phrases for that moment my hero does this or the specific challenge that causes that… so what? As I’ve mentioned here a few times it doesn’t matter how I write, all that matters is what I’ve written. What works for me won’t necessarily work for you and it definitely won’t work for him.

But…

I think sometimes we hit problems when these personal, unique terms get out into the wild and bounce off some of the more format-specific ones. People can start interpreting them in different ways. Weird ways. Because they see the same thing called by two different names—or maybe two different things called by very similar names—and then they try to distill these down to make “simplified” rules and definitions.

Like, okay, remember a while back and I was talking about structure, and how many different aspects of writing structure could refer to? And how often people would combine or confuse definitions and then spit that confusion back out as advice? Or, again, as rules that needed to be followed.

Heck, just a few weeks ago I talked about conflict, and all the different ways people define it. And then all the different ways people then try to judge conflict in a story based off all those random, personal definitions. It can get messy and confusing really fast.

Y’see, Timmy, we shouldn’t immediately take writing advice at face value when we stumble across it, no matter how simple or straightforward it sounds. I’m not saying it’s wrong, but pay attention to what being described more than what it’s being called. Someone might be giving you advice about conflict, but they’re really talking about action. They might keep referring to plot when they’re describing three act structure. It’s up to us to parse out what they actually mean and where this thread of advice fits in that big process -spiderweb of rules and tips and advice we each create

Yeah, the process-spiderweb. Doesn’t everyone call it that?

Random other thing—some of you may have noticed I didn’t post the August newsletter here on the last of the month as I usually do. I’m not doing that anymore. It’s making a few things feel a bit cluttered and redundant. From here on I’ll just add a link to the newsletter archive in the last post of the month. Like this. And of course, you can always just sign up for the newsletter and then this all becomes moot.

Oh, and if you’re in the San Diego area, this Saturday at 2:00 I’ll be at Mysterious Galaxy for the launch of the Dread Coast anthology. Come get books and get them scribbled in! Hear me read aloud in my squeaky, supposedly-accented voice.

Next time—unless I get a request from one of you—I’d like to go for a walk around the block.

Until then, go write.

Okay, look… tomorrow’s my birthday, and I ended up spending a lot more time than I thought I would at the DMV today. But—as I have in the past—I wanted to offer some thoughts that were less about writing-the-art and a bit more about writing-the-overall-sphere-of-community-and-career.

So at the risk of shooting myself in the foot… let’s talk a bit about writing advice.

Really, the whole reason I started scribbling out these little rants soooo many years back (my hair was still rich and full and dark back then) was because of writing advice. All I ever saw on various writing forums (novel and screenplay) was what I called “after advice.” It was all tips on how to get an agent interested, how to get your script in front of producers or actors, how to build word of mouth, and so on. Very, very little of that advice was about the big step that came before all of those.

Y’know… actually writing the damned thing.

But as social media became a thing, I noticed more and more people offering writing advice. As in, advice about the actual act of writing. Often in short, bite-sized, very catchy phrases.

And also… a lot of it very scattered.

I think we can all agree people write for a lot of different reasons. Some folks enjoy crafting stories. Some like elaborate wordplay. Some folks want to make some money, while others want to make a whole career out of it. There are people who just enjoy the act of creation. Writing can even be therapeutic in some cases, like a great purge, or maybe a way to relax, like sliding into a hot bath at the end of a long day.

And to be very clear, all of these are good, solid, completely valid reasons to write. Anyone who says otherwise is an idiot. If all I want to do is write Mandalorian fan fic… cool. If it’s what you want to write, write it! Done.

People write in a lot of different formats, too. We can do first person or third person omniscient or third person limited or even the often-elusive-but-goddamn-beautiful-when-done-well second person. We can write books, short stories, comics, stage plays, narrative podcasts, screenplays for film or broadcast television or streaming television. These are all great, with their own challenges and rewards.

Again, anyone who tries to tell you television writing is all schlock or comics are stupid, just… look, don’t resort to violence, but know that they’re wrong. Very wrong.

Now… one of the big problems that happens a lot with writing advice is survivorship bias. If you’re not familiar, it’s when we only look at people who succeed at a task rather than everyone who attempted the task. Which means it’s tough to recognize how many elements of that success were skill vs inherent talent vs surrounding circumstances vs just, y’know, sheer luck. I actually talked about this a bit on a previous birthday post, although I didn’t mention it by name– just because Jennifer Lawrence moved from Kentucky and became a Hollywood megastar doesn’t mean every young woman who moves from Kentucky to Hollywood will become a megastar. Which sounds kinda silly to say out loud, right? But survivorship bias is kinda silly when you point it out.

And sometimes folks don’t recognize their own survivorship bias. They don’t recognize that outside elements were a big part of their success. So their advice is, well, a bit off. Not deliberately, mind you. They’re saying “I did this and it worked for me, I achieved my goal, therefore this is the method that works.” Which clearly isn’t wrong—they are successful after all—but it’s also not exactly right. It’s not considering other factors that maybe can’t be replicated by the people receiving said advice.

Using myself as an example… yeah, a good part of my success comes from writing and studying writing (in many different forms) for most of my life. But having an agent definitely was a big factor. And in all fairness I only have an agent because a bunch of sheer-luck things happened to line up in my favor. And sad to say, yeah, but the fact that I’m a white guy probably helped too. I couldn’t tell you exactly when or how, but I’m definitely not going to discount it. This is part of the reason I give big disclaimers on most of my writing advice. My path to success was unique. I can offer some suggestions on how to duplicate parts of it, but a lot of it was completely out of my hands.

Another thing some folks don’t grasp is that a lot of advice isn’t good for every situation. I can tell you the best dryer setting is permanent press because it’s a good balance of speed, temperature, and gentle motion that will get things done in a reasonable amount of time but also not be too rough on colors and most fabrics. But… this is lousy advice if you were asking how to dry your phone because you accidentally dropped it in the pool.

And this is true of writing advice, too. Like I mentioned up above, people can write for a lot of different reasons, and if I’m just writing for the joy of artistic expression (again, nothing wrong with that) my advice might not be that helpful if you’re trying to write as a great psychological purge at the end of a bad week. I’ve mentioned before how some people will offer advice on structure, but they’re trying to apply television script structure advice to a novel’s narrative structure. Likewise, most of my writing advice here on the ranty blog is geared around the idea of starting a fiction writing career, so it’s probably going to seem very contrary to a person who’s much more interested in writing as an art. The kind of writing we’re doing is going to affect the advice we’re giving and the advice we’re looking for. There’s some stuff that’s universal, absolutely, but there’s also stuff that

When I’m getting some writing advice, I need to think about all of this. I want to consider that another writer’s advice may have bias. I should be aware that they’re offering me advice about this kind of writing when I want to do that kind of writing.

Speaking of which, one final thing. I know this may sound obvious but… maybe don’t take writing advice from people who don’t actually write? If they can’t point to some notable level of writing output related to the advice they’re giving… I’m just saying, maybe their “advice” is coming from a different place.

And that’s all I’ve got for you on this fine pre-birthday afternoon. Sorry again for the lack of posts here, but I’m hoping to be better in the coming months.

Of course, I’m saying that but I’m probably going to miss next week. Editing.

But after that… redemption. Finally.

Until then, go write.

Well, here we are in the far flung sci-fi future year of 2025. The year of Pacific Rim, as I mentioned in the newsletter the other day. What? You’re still not subbed to the newsletter? Well, there’s your first thing to do this year.

Anyway, first ranty blog post of the year (and already running late). What to write about? I’ve already planned out a lot of my year, writing-wise, and maybe so have you. Or maybe not. No worries there, either way. This is my job, so I’ve got to schedule things to some extent. You may have a lot more leeway. Heck, writing might be your zero-stress after work cool-down thing. If that’s how you like to do it, that’s great. What works for you works for you.

I’ve had a couple possible topics bouncing around in my head for two weeks now. And in that time I’ve seen a lot of other folks offering their own start-of-the-year advice nuggets. And that got me thinking even more…

So, look, some of you may be thinking of finally writing that novel. 2025 is the year we’re getting it done. Maybe we’re starting from scratch. Could be we’ve had a few false starts. Maybe some of it’s already done and this is the year we finish it.

And it’s possible, as I mentioned above, that you’re seeing all sorts of advice and encouragement from different folks.

They’ll tell you not to worry about how much you write every day. Don’t worry about how often you write. And don’t worry about spelling. Don’t worry about grammar, either. Don’t worry about structure. Don’t worry about getting the facts right. None of that matters! What matters is the writing! Which, uh, you don’t have to do today.

And it may cross your mind after some of this, well, hang on. What the heck am I doing? If none of this stuff matters… I mean, what am I supposed to do? Seriously?

This is a little tricky to understand because technically all of this is true, but it’s true at different points in the process and in different ways. If I apply all of these rules (or lack of rules, I guess) evenly throughout my whole process, I can be doing more harm than good.

For example, I’ve talked about first drafts and forward motion—just getting it done. That’s how I tend to write. I won’t worry about spelling or formatting and it’s really common for me to leave notes to myself about checking if this is correct and how that actually works. So at this point in the process… yeah, don’t worry about any of that stuff.

But this doesn’t mean I never worry about these things. It’s more a question of when I worry about them. Personally, I tend to clean most of this up in my second draft, and I’m usually still adjusting it in my third. Because these things matter. No, really, they do.

A lot of this is going to boil down to what I want to do with my writing. What are my end goals, so to speak. Is it my after-work cool down? A personal project? Maybe something I want to share on a Reddit thread or Wattpad. Am I going to self-publish it? Am I hoping a traditional press will pick this up?

Y’see Timmy, the truth is when I’m at home, the park, the office, the library, on the train, or wherever it is that I do most of my writing… I can do whatever I want. Seriously. When it’s just me and my keyboard, absolutely no rules apply. Whatever I want, however I want, for as long as I want. That’s my process, and nobody can say my process is wrong or weird or whatever.

But…

If I want to send something out into the world, to put it in front of other people’s eyes—especially people I’m hoping will give me money—I need to start seriously thinking about all of this stuff. That’s when I do need to worry about spelling. I definitely want to double check my grammar. And triple-check my facts. And if I’ve got a deadline, I absolutely need to be considering how much I’m writing and how often I’m writing. Because these things will matter to other people. They’ll matter to different degrees for different people, but they will matter.

And the more chances I give people to say “that’s wrong” are more chances they’re going to set my story aside and move on to something else.

So, yeah, write freely. Don’t be concerned about things. Just write.

But be aware we’re just deferring that concern till later. Not saying goodbye to it forever.

Next time…

Well, heck, like I was saying. Start of the year. new projects and new goals all around. Is there anything specific I could cover for anyone? Something that’s been gnawing at you, a topic where you’d really like some kind of advice or tips or encouragement? Let me know down in the comments and I’ll make that happen for you.

And until then… go write.

Hey! I’m here encouraging you! FEEL ENCOURAGED!!!

Well, as I’m writing this we just passed the halfway point for the month, which means we’re halfway through The Writing Exercise That Used To be Known As NaNoWriMo (I’m working on a good acronym).

Hopefully you’re still going. Working on any project starts out fun. It’s great at the beginning, when we can just sort of be a firehose of ideas. We can spray clever dialogue and cool action beats and creepy moments everywhere. Cool thing, cool thing. cool thing, damn writing is easy!

Of course, the tough thing is then at some point—weirdly enough, often right around that halfway mark—all this stuff needs to start tying together somehow. I’ve got to take all those clever/ cool/ creepy ideas and make something coherent out of them. And that means this just became work! And work sucks! I’m pretty sure at least one of you is reading this thinking “I wanted to be a writer so I wouldn’t have to work!”

Plus, NaNoWriMo was this sort of group activity, and without it suddenly we’re all just… y’know, sitting alone in our rooms typing for no real reason. There’s no prize. No actual deadline. It’s easy to miss a day or two, think about how much work it’d be to get back into it, and just say “Ehhhhh… I’m done.”

But you don’t want to give up now. We’re on the downhill slope now. It’s half done. Yeah, it is. You don’t need to hit any set word count, you just need to keep at it. Again, this is more about doing it—sitting down and writing as much as you can, as often as you can—for the course of the month.

And yes… it’s going to feel like work sometimes. I wish I could tell you it doesn’t, that there’s a point when it’s going to be nonstop fun. But I’m not going to lie to you. Somedays you just have to sit there and glare at the screen and pound the keyboard until you figure out how Ashley believably ends up with the canopic jar when Devon didn’t’ know how to do it. But the cool thing is, it’s your work. You’re doing it for you. For your story. And nobody can write this story except you.

Also… this is supposed to be a first draft. Don’t worry about too many things lining up. First drafts can be gloriously messy things. Heck, my most recent first draft had a blank page with <KILL FRED HERE> on it. That’s it.

For now, just keep going. You’re more than halfway there. You, as the kids say, have got this.

And hey—my offer from last time still stands. For November, this is your writing community space. Post your achievements, frustrations, questions here and I promise you I’ll respond within the day with a high five, a commiseration, an answer, or some kind of encouragement to keep writing. I’ll check in every day. Maybe more often if I’m trying to avoid work. And you can respond to each other, too.

Next time… well, next time’s just in a couple of days. But since I just turned in edits on one book and I’m working through the third draft of another, I figure I’d talk about drafts and revisions.

Until then, go write!