Category: tips

January 3, 2019 / 4 Comments

What Are You Looking For?

Welcome to 2019!  A dystopian world unlike any you could’ve imagined…

I wanted to start the year by just tossing out a couple introductory thoughts for you about writing.  Or why we’re writing, really.  Maybe something to consider while those resolutions are still firming up.

Really, it all kinda boils down to one question.

 Why are you doing this?

It’s a question I think a lot of folks don’t ask themselves, and it’s kind of important.  What I actually hope to get out of an activity should really effect how I approach said activity.  Is writing just a hobby for me?  Is it a form of artistic expression?  Do I just want to make a little money on the side with it or am I hoping to make a career out of this?  Do I just want all the little side perks that come with being a famous writer? Maybe some combination of some or all of these things?

Almost all of these are valid ways to approach writing.  But if I don’t know—or I’m not honest with myself—about where I want to end up, I can waste a lot of time on the wrong path.  And when I don’t get where I wanted to go… well, there’s only one person I can blame.

Now, I’m willing to bet some folks reading this are already grumbling.  Internally if nothing else.  Experience has taught me that a lot of people don’t like talking about writing in a concrete way like this.  If I had to guess why, I think it’s because keeping things vague and soft is comfortable.  It’s easy. If I don’t declare what my goals are, it’s pretty much impossible for you to tell me I’m not getting closer to them.  I can just keep doing whatever I want in this big hazy cloud of possibilities and declare success.

So let’s not talk about writing.

Let’s fall back on one of my favorite parallels—cooking.  We can talk about cooking without anyone getting mad, right?  It’s a safe, simple topic.

Why do you cook?

I mean, we all cook to some degree or another.  Maybe it’s just using the microwave or the toaster, but I think everybody reading this can at least feed yourself without resorting to ordering a pizza, right?   Some of us might even be able to make pizza from scratch.  Or maybe go all the way to ravioli in vodka sauce with homemade garlic bread.

(I might be a bit hungry while I type all this—just warning you now)

So yeah, some people might be happy just having those bare basic skills and maybe some folks want to do a bit more.  Maybe you’re just really into pasta or baking or soups and you have a lot of fun experimenting with them.

Or maybe I want to go all the way with this.  I want to be a chef.  Like, a trained and accredited chef.  Do they accredit chefs?  You get the idea.  I want to wear that white jacket and the apron and work in a restaurant.  Hell, maybe I want to own a restaurant! 

It’s possible to approach cooking a lot of different ways, depending on where I want to go with it.  And there’s nothing that says I can’t change direction at some point.  I can just play around with pies and cakes for my own amusement and maybe one day decide I want to open a bakery.  But I need to acknowledge that’ll mean a big shift in how I approach things.  Baking cookies for me and my friends is not the same as baking them for the Wednesday lunch rush.

Another thing about cooking—we can all agree there are some rules to it.  There are tons of recipes that’ll have flexibility, sure, but in the end, it needs to be edible.  Some ingredients need to be cooked certain ways.  Yeah, breaking these rules is possible, but it’s really important that I know how to break them.  Like, I can do things with raw eggs, but it’s risky.  If I don’t know exactly what I’m doing, I might make someone sick.  Like full-on poison them.  Fatally.

And that’s not going to get me a lot of repeat dinner guests.

Or repeat customers, if I’ve decided to go pro with this.

That’s a nice lead in for my last point about cooking.  The business side of it.  Yeah, maybe you don’t want to go that way, but it’s worth at least thinking about for a minute.  I think the vast majority of us wouldn’t mind making money at our cooking, right?

(everybody remembers this is an extended metaphor, right?)

The minute I decide to start thinking about cooking in a business sense, I need to start thinking about it… well, like a business.  If I want to open a restaurant or a bakery, I need to consider what my customers want, sales numbers, investment returns, and more.  It’s painful to say, but at this point I need to ignore the art side of things for a bit and start looking at hard numbers.

Like, okay, cooking’s always going to have a personal edge to it.  I really like things on the spicy side.  My partner’s a vegetarian.  Maybe you hate anything that doesn’t include bacon.

But once we’re talking about cooking as a business, it’s not all about us anymore.  It’s about them—my potential customers.  What do they like?  What are they going to spend money on?  What are they going to take a chance on?  Yeah, my maggot brulee might be the most amazing (and carbon-friendly) dessert you’ll ever have, but I shouldn’t be too shocked if nobody wants to try it.  Customers probably won’t want to eat it (not enough to support a restaurant, anyway) and investors probably won’t want to back my little writhing cafe.

And again—this doesn’t mean the maggot brulee is bad.  This isn’t about good or bad, it’s about making smart business decisions.  Cooking professionally means not doing as many adventurous things, and being very smart about the risks I take and the rules I break.  It means finding that perfect sweet spot where I can make my customers (and investors) feel very safe and comfortable while also getting them excited about trying something new.

It’s tough.  That’s why so many restaurants fail.  Depending on which numbers you look at, it’s generous to say only one out of five restaurants lasts three years.

Which, honestly, is still better numbers than most writers.

That’s what we’ve been talking about, remember?

Y’see, Timmy, there’s no “correct” endgame with writing.  You wanting to do it just for the art isn’t any worse or better, decision-wise, than me doing it for a living.  They can do it for fun, she can do it as therapy, and he can do it as an ongoing social-psychological exploration as what it means to be a brilliant mind trapped at the mall food court serving orange chicken to capitalist sheeple every day (it’s too deep for you to understand, just deal with it).  Whatever I want to do with writing… that’s the right choice for me.  And whatever you want to do is the right choice for you.

Just make sure you’re on the right path to get to that goal.  Or at least headed generally toward it.  Path A could be a smooth, unchallenging run, but it doesn’t lead to D.  And path C lets me take the moral high ground, but it’s not going to get me to E.

I freely admit, this blog is overall about getting on a career path with writing.  Or maybe getting over some of the rough parts of that path a little easier.  And you may find some tools here you can use on other paths.  Rope’s very helpful with mountain climbing, but you use it a lot in sailing, too.  Some writing advice is like that.  It can get you closer to publication, but it can also make your Dungeons & Dragons blog really pop.

So… that’s what we’re going to do this year.

And maybe a tiny bit of self promotion for a couple projects coming out.

Next time, well… we should probably talk about getting started.

Until then, go write.

cookinggoalstips
November 20, 2018

Top Ten Rules for Writers

            Two posts a week is becoming a  kinda regular thing here, isn’t it…?
            So, hey, you may have seen that a certain set of writing “rules” was passed around Twitter recently.  Not so much rules, in this case, as a collection of trolling and rejected fortune cookie messages.  People made fun of it.  I was one of them.

            But a few people also put up serious, much more useful lists.  Things to help with being a writer and with the writing itself.  And I thought, hey, I’m not going to be posting on Thursday because of Thanksgiving (I’ve got a turkey to cook and classic movies to watch)… maybe I could do a top ten list, too!
            Because I always make sure to jump on every trend a good week after it’s dead.

            I did a whole post about it over on my MySpace page.
            Anyway, for your enjoyment and possible education—and with the Golden Rule firmly in mind—are my top ten rules for writers.
1 – Write Every Day
            Yeah, this is one that gets batted around a lot, pros and cons, all that.  I’ve talked about it at length before.  Here’s why it’s the first rule I’m going to toss out…

            If I want to do this for a living, I have to think of writing as a job.  That’s an ugly truth.  This is my job.  I do it full time.  Probably more than full time.  I’d guess at least once or twice a month I’ll have a week where I work hours close to my film crew years.
            Yeah, you may not be there yet.  I get that.  But the whole reason I got here is because I started treating my writing like something that had to happen every week.  It wasn’t a hobby, it was something that needed to get done.  Because if it didn’t need to get done… well, it usually didn’t.

2 – Read
            As I write this, I’ve just finished reading my 46th book of the year.  That’s not counting a ton of comics, research material, a bunch of gaming rule/ sourcebooks, and probably three or four Washington Post articles every day.  Like anything, writing is input-output.  I can’t get the engine to run of it doesn’t have fuel.
            No, alcohol isn’t fuel.  It’s just lubricant.  And too much lubricant eventually just makes you spin and place without accomplishing anything.
3 – Learn to Spell
            I’ve talked about this many, many, many times.  Learn words. Learn how to spell them.  Learn what they mean.  Words are the building blocks of writing.  The bare-bones foundation.  Wanting to be a writer when I can’t spell is like wanting to be a chef when I don’t know the difference between salt and sugar.
            Don’t be scared to grab a dictionary or type something into Google.  Nobody will judge you for it.  I do it all the time, even just to confirm I’m right about exactly what a word means.  Hell, I did it twice late last night as I was finishing up copyedits on a book.
4 – Exercise your mind
            I just talked about this a while ago, too.  I’m a big believer that the mind is like any other muscle group.  You can’t just do one thing with it.  Don’t be scared to experiment with other creative things.  Build a bookshelf.  Play with LEGO bricks.  Cook a meal.  Sketch something.  Paint something.  Sing something.  Hell, balance your checkbook.  Do your taxes.  Let your brain flex in different ways.
5 – Exercise your body
            Another sad truth about writing.  It generally involves sitting on your butt and well, not doing much.  From a physical point of view.
            Cool science fact.  The brain needs oxygen to work.  Oxygen comes from blood.  Blood flow increases with exercise and decreases when we… well, sit on out butts.  So exercise actually makes it easier to write.
            And I don’t mean go buy a punching bag or get a gym membership.  If you can do these things, great, but just stand up from your desk or kitchen table and move around a bit.  Go for a walk.  Play with your dogs.  Just get that blood flowing.  Khorne cares not from where the blood flows, as long as it flows!  Skulls for the skull throne!
            Wait, sorry, ignore those last bits…
6 – Learn the Rules
            I know nobody likes to hear this part but… there are rules to writing.  Like spelling (see # 3 up above). They aren’t ironclad things, but they do exist and they exist for a reason.  Rules are the common ground we interact on as authors and readers.  You know why I can’t read Chinese?  Because I don’t know the basic language rules of Chinese.  Those writers are communicating in a way I can’t understand.  And the same holds for writing in English if I don’t know the basic rules of English.
            Likewise, there are rules to storytelling.  Again, not unbreakable ones, but they’re real and. on one level or another, we’re all aware of them.  Certain universal expectations, and also some that are more tailored for different genres or styles.  I need to have a good sense of how these rules work if I want to tweak or openly subvert them.
7 – Have Fun
            I know, I know… After some of the other things I’ve said, this sounds impossible, right?
            Whatever reason I have for writing, I should be having fun with it.  Don’t listen to those weirdoes who talk about starving artists or suffering for their art or any of that nonsense.  All that approach does is make you… well, not like writing.  Why would I want to spend all my time doing something I inherently don’t like?  Believe it or not, you can be a real writer without ever once feel tortured, anguished, or misunderstood.  Like so many things in life, if writing makes me feel miserable and frustrated… maybe I’m doing it wrong.
            Again, be really cautions about listening to those “artistic” folks who insist writing has to be  a traumatic experience.  Write about stuff you love, about ideas you’re enthusiastic about.  Let writing be the high point of your day, and let that joy carry through onto the page.
           
8 – Write
            Yeah, again.  It’s important.
            At the end of the day, the only real yardstick we have for progress is making words appear on the screen (or in the legal pad or on that parchment you make yourself at that secluded cabin out in the hills).  I can attend all the conferences and seminars I want, read every instructional book or blog post with a list of rules, but if I’m not actually writing… it doesn’t really matter. 
            I was that guy for a while.  I could tell you a lot about writing, what it meant to be a writer, what I planned to write… but I never wrote anything.  I never made any headway.  And if I don’t write—if I never produce a finished manuscript—it means I can never write a second manuscript.  I can never have a better draft. 
            The only way to move forward is… writing.
           
9 – Don’t be Scared to Break the Rules
            So there are rules.  No question, no discussion.  Rules exist.

            But I don’t need to be trapped by them.  I shouldn’t feel like rules are the end-all, be-all of writing.  Just because someone can quote a rule that my story breaks doesn’t necessarily mean I’m doing anything wrong.  It doesn’t mean I’m doing anything right, either, but it doesn’t mean automatic failure.

            This is why I always get a bit leery about gurus and books that say things like “by page twenty-three, you should have…” or “heroic quests follow this pattern…”  A side-effect of saying “do this” is people get the idea things always need to be done that way.  If the worksheet’s telling me I mustknow the answer to these seventeen questions about my character, the implication is that if I only know twelve I must be a bad writer who made a bad character.  Even if I know the answer to seventeen different questions, or twenty-nine other questions, the book said those were the important ones.
            Yeah, screw all that.  Ignore it. 
            I read these books sometimes, but I don’t worry about ignoring half of what they say and just pulling out what works for me and the story I’m telling.  Or using none of it and just tossing the whole thing.  Writing is an art.  Even if I’m writing for commercial purposes, it’s still an art.  And art is unique to every artist.  I can use creative misspellings and odd story structures and characters who don’t fit perfectly in that heroic mold.  Or the heroic tights.  Or the heroic top… which seems to have shrunk a little in the mid-section since I became a full-time writer.
            For example, if everybody’s doing lists of ten, you could just stop at nine.  That’s okay.  It doesn’t mean your list is wrong

            And that’s that.

            I’ll see you all at the end of the week for the usual Black Friday talk, and next Thursday we’ll talk about, well… next time.
            Until then, go write.
            Once you nap off all that turkey.

artrulesspellingtipswriting
November 1, 2018

NaNoWriMo—FIGHT!!

            Hey!  It’s November.  Like, just barely scraping into November.  By hours.  You’ve probably still got the taste of chocolate in your mouth, don’t you?
            Yes you do.  Don’t lie.
            Anyway, if you’re even a semi-regular reader of this site, you’ve probably heard of a certain November writing event that starts… well, probably right about now, depending what time zone you’re in.  Some of you may have been writing for the past hour or two, fueled by miniature Heath bars and Reese’s cups.  Power to you for starting right at midnight.
            On the off chance this is all new to you, I’m talking about NaNoWriMo.  National Novel Writing Month.  You sit yourself down at the keyboard, scoop up your legal pad, jack in to your hexadecimal cerebral port, and try to get an entire novel done—start to finish—in just thirty days.
            And when you finish, you get…
            Well, bragging rights, basically.  Pride.  A feeling of accomplishment.
            Sounds a bit intimidating, yes?
            It sure as hell is. 
            Don’t get me wrong.  It can be fun, recharge your batteries, stoke the fires, and lots of other clever aphorisms.  But the simple truth is, it’s a huge, exhausting undertaking.  I do this full time, for a living, and the idea of writing an entire book in thirty days makes me feel a bit overwhelmed just thinking about it.
            So here’s four quick thing to keep in mind so you don’t get as intimidated or overwhelmed.

            1) Don’t be Hard on Yourself—this is supposed to be fun.  You’re on a deadline, yes, but it’s a self-imposed deadline with no consequences if it’s missed.  Seriously, relax.  Don’t beat yourself up if you don’t make your daily or weekly word count.  That’s the kind of thing that makes you feel bad about yourself and about your ability as a writer.  It doesn’t help anything, it just makes you enjoy the act of  writing less.
            Push yourself, but don’t pressure yourself.  The big goal here is to improve, so any and every improvement counts.  Have fun and enjoy all the little victories this month.  This is a time when coming in second or third is still a great achievement.
            2) Pace Yourself—nobody wins a marathon by sprinting the entire way.  Trying to fill every single waking moment with writing is going to burn you out quick.  And it’ll show in your work.
            Try to be aware of diminishing returns.  A lot of times when I’m on a deadline, I’ll work late into the night.  Sometimes it goes great, but sometimes… I start to slow down.  My productivity drops.  And eventually it hits a point where I would’ve been better off going to bed two hours ago because I would’ve gotten just as much done in half an hour on a good night’s sleep.
            It’s so friggin’ simplistic, but think of the Tortoise and the Hare. Slow and steady gets the worm and the second mouse gets the cheese.  Something like that.  You get the idea.
            3) Rest and recharge—if the last two pieces of advice got together and had an advice baby, it would be this.  Don’t be scared to step away, just for a little while.  Have a nice meal and maybe a drink.  Go for a walk.  Take a nap.  Take a shower.  No, seriously, take a shower.  You should probably do that before going out—you’ve been sitting there for days typing and you’ve got writer stink on you.  Play a game.  Call a friend.  Curl up with somebody on the couch and watch an episode of Legends of Tomorrow or The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina or something.
            Point is, don’t feel bad about stepping away from the computer for an hour.  You’re trying to get a lot done, yeah, but with that in mind you don’t want to overwork the machine to the point it overheats and seizes up.  Give it time to cool down and refuel.  I’m not saying take a day or three off in the middle of this, but don’t be scared to get up, stretch, and walk away from your computer for an hour.  In the end, it’ll run smoother and faster overall.

            4) This Won’t Sell—no, seriously.  It’s won’t.  Kick that idea right out of your mind and stop worrying about it altogether.  It’s just not going to happen.  You’re worrying about your wedding venue and playlist when you’re not even dating anybody right now.

            The name NaNoWriMo is kinda deceptive, because you’re not really writing a novel this month.  You’re writing the firstdraft of a novel.  Maybe even just the first draft of a novella.  And there’s a huge difference between a first draft and a polished, completed manuscript.
            Most importantly… nobody’s going to buy a first draft.  No agent’s going to look at it.  No film studio will pre-emptively buy the rights after a prolonged bidding war.
            This draft is for you.  It’s to do whatever you want with.  Don’t spend a second second-guessing what those other people will want.  They’re never going to see this.  They may see the third or fourth draft—and be interested in it—but what you’re doing right now?  This is just a mess of cake batter.  It’s barely halfway through the process.
            So forget them.  Right now, just crank up the music and let your imagination run wild.  Do whatever you want.  Tell your story.  Drop all inhibitions and expectations and just write.

            Keep these things in mind over the next couple days.  Hopefully they’ll make things a little easier for you. Which’ll make the writing a little more enjoyable.

            Next time…
            Well, it’s been a while, so I figured we could talk about characters.  Or, to be more exact, who deserves to be a character in my story.
            Until then… go write.
agentsdraftsNaNoWriMopacingtips
September 27, 2018 / 1 Comment

Elementary

            Many thanks to all of you who tossed some new topic ideas at me (here and on Twitter).  I think this might fill up all the slots I had for the rest of the year.  I may even take some time to rethink my upcoming plans.

            Anyway, for now, the potential Sherlock Holmes idea stuck in my head, so let me babble about that for a minute or three.

            There’s a pair of terms that have been floating around for a bit now—Watsonian and Doylist.  On the off chance you don’t get the reference, the terms come from Dr. John (or Joan) Watson, constant companion to Sherlock Holmes, and also to their creator, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.  When we use these terms, we’re saying there’s two ways to look at any story element.  The in-story reason for this happening, and the author’s reason for this happening.  They’re often very different, but they’re both very important.

            For example…
            Why did Sherlock Holmes die in “The Final Problem,” plunging to his death at Reichenbach Falls?  Well, from Watson’s point of view, Holmes sacrificed himself because it was the only way to stop Moriarty.  The two evenly-matched men fight, and while Holmes dies, Moriarty’s now-leaderless criminal empire will crumble.  A net win for society. 
            From Doyle’s point of view, though, he was just sick of writing Sherlock Holmes stories.  He was making money off them, yeah, but he wanted to move on and start writing more serious, important stuff about, well… ghosts and fairies.  No, seriously.  So he killed Holmes off and tried (unsuccessfully) to move on.
            Yeah, don’t be the person pointing out Doyle later retconned the death.  When he wrote this story, Holmes was dead.  Toast.  Joined the choir invisible.
            Of course, this principal doesn’t just apply to Sherlock Holmes stories.  If you look at most stories, the elements break down into these two categories.
            –Whydid Han Solo get frozen in carbonite?  The Watsonian reason is that Vader wanted to test the carbon-freezing process and Boba Fett wanted to collect on Solo’s sizeable bounty.  The Doylist reason is that Harrison Ford wasn’t sure he wanted to come back to play Solo again, so George Lucas needed an ending that could explain Solo’s potential absence but also contain the possibility of bringing him back.
            –Whydid the Twelfth Doctor regenerate?  Watsonian reason—he was shot by the Cybermen and managed to hold off his regeneration briefly before transforming into the Thirteenth Doctor.  Doylist—Peter Capaldi was leaving the series, as was showrunner Stephen Moffat, and the new team decided to cast Jodie Whittaker.
            Here’s one of my own—Whydoes Ex-Patriots begin with a Fourth of July fireworks show?  Well, from a Watsonian point of view, the citizens of the Mount are celebrating.  It’s the Fourth, but it’s also one of their first major holidays since things have (for them) kinda stabilized after the zombocalypse.  So they’re partying hard.
            From a Doylist point of view, though… this opening lets me start with action.  There’s a lot going on.  It gives me a chance to re-introduce our four main heroes. It also lets be immediately bring up the idea of nations and patriotism, which are key themes in the book.  Heck, because this was one of those very rare times where I knewthere’d be another book in the series, this was also a setup for a plot thread in Ex-Communication.
            This all makes sense, yes?
            Why are we talking about it?
            I think it’s really important to remember these distinctions when we’re talking about writing.  To be more specific, when we’re talking about aspects of writing.  If we’re discussing dialogue or characters or settings, we should be clear if this is an in-world discussion or an authorial discussion.  Are we talking about things as they relate to the characters, or as they relate to the author (and the audience)?
            “Authorial”?   Ooooh, don’t I sound all clever…
            For example, once or thrice I’ve mentioned my belief that all good, successful characters have three common traits—they’re believable, they’re relatable, and they’re likable.  But I’ve seen some pushback on this.  I’ve had people online and in person argue that characters don’t need to be likable.  Characters just need to be fascinating or compelling or… well, look.  They don’t need to be likable.
            Here’s the thing.  In a Watsonian sense—I agree with this.  I mean, I’ve said this myself lots of times (pretty much every time I talk about these traits).  Likable doesn’t mean we want a character to marry into our family and they always have a kind word to say.  Within the story, there are tons of popular protagonists who aren’t remotely likable.  Who are kind of awful, really.  There’s not a version of Hannibal Lecter—books, movies, or television—that most of us would want to have a private dinner with.  We probably couldn’t count the number of books and movies that have hit men or assassins as their main characters.  And to bring us back around, most modern interpretations of Sherlock Holmes rightly point out that the guy’s an abrasive, condescending ass. 
            (…and that’s with the people he likes.)
            But in a Doylist sense, viewed from outside… we kinda like these people.  We admire Lecter’s twisted ethics.  We envy the ultra-competent man or woman of action.  And it’s kind of pleasant to watch Holmes point out what’s sitting right in front of everyone’s face.  That separation of fiction, the thin sheath that keeps us from absolutely immersing into the story, lets us enjoy these characters in ways we couldn’t in real life.
            I mean if we didn’t like them as readers, why would we keep reading about them?  Who’d torture themselves like that.  Hell, why would we keep writingabout them if we didn’t like them?  I can’t imagine sitting down and working for months on a story about a character I didn’t enjoy on some level.

            This holds for so a lot of aspects of writing.  I’ve mentioned before that realistic dialogue in fiction is different from the actual conversations we have with each other in the real world.  Other characters might not get my protagonist, but the reader should be able to relate to them.  And I’m never going to be able build any sort of tension if I don’t understand the difference between what my readers know and what my character knows.

            Y’see, Timmy, when I’m taking in advice I need to be clear if we’re talking about things in a Watsonian or Doylist sense.  And when I see advice from other writers, I should stop and think about how they mean it.  Are they talking about the actual pace of events in the timeline of the story, or the pacing in the narrative?  Are they talking about the motives of the characters or the writer?
            In the future, I’m going to try to be better about this, too.
            Next time…
            Well, thanks to some of you, I’ve got next time all planed out in advance.
            Until then… go write.
advicecharacterDoyleEx-PatriotsStar WarstipsWatsonWho

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