Archive for writing

writing

Idea Time

My newest Shiny New Idea is really taking off. I seem to spend about half an hour in bed every morning after waking up, just thinking and processing all the ideas that are coming at me furiously. So far, I have an opening scene, a good sense of the two main characters, and lots of background for the world and the setup for the current situation.

I’m still devoting most of my working time to the proofreading I need to do, but having something more creative to work on helps keep me from burning out from doing the tedious work. The brainstorming and idea generating is pure creativity. I’m not worrying about putting things into words or pacing or plotting. I’m just playing what if. It’s like when I was a kid running around the neighborhood with my friends, declaring what characters we were and what we were doing as we did a sort of extended improv. Or acting out stories with my dolls or those little Fisher Price people. It’s daydreaming, only I write down the good stuff I come up with. This is my favorite part of the writing process, and it’s a good kind of work to do alongside something more tedious and less creative because it balances it all out.

The trick is getting out of bed, since that time between waking up and actually getting up seems to be the maximum creative time. Some of it is thinking about and processing things that came to me during the night, but then as I’m more conscious I start building on those ideas, and the more I think about it, the more I come up with. I had somewhere to be this morning, and I woke up well before my alarm, but that was when my brain kicked into high gear and I was afraid to get up until I’d processed all the thoughts and ideas well enough that I wouldn’t lose them as soon as I got up. I ended up lying there for about half an hour after I woke up, then I had to hurry and get ready to be at a morning meeting.

On the way back from the meeting, I stopped by the library to pick up some books for researching this idea. But first I need to do some proofreading. The new idea isn’t anywhere near ready to be written. I’ve learned from long experience that the longer I let an idea marinate, the better the book ends up being.

writing

Another Shiny New Idea

I’ve mentioned the perils of Shiny New Idea Syndrome before. That’s when you’re slogging away at a book, often in a phase that’s less than fun, like the middle of a first draft or proofreading, and then a brilliant new idea strikes you. This idea is a guaranteed bestseller that will make your career, and it’s a fully formed book. You need to drop everything to write it.

And then once you start writing it and you get past the beginning, it becomes hard, and another Shiny New Idea strikes, so you abandon the project and start on that.

This is why a lot of writers who have great ideas and spend a lot of time writing never manage to sell a book. They never actually finish one because they’re always chasing that Shiny New Idea. I started trying to write novels early in my teens, but I didn’t finish one until I was in my 20s because of this. Not only is the Shiny New Idea a distraction, but it’s usually not fully formed, so if you drop what you’re working on to write the Shiny New Idea, you’ll quickly run out of steam so that you’re tempted by the next idea that comes along.

I’ve learned over the years that the Shiny New Ideas are a good sign. Creativity breeds more creativity. The more you write, the more ideas you’ll have. If Shiny New Ideas are coming to you, that means you’re in a good creative space. But that doesn’t mean you should abandon your current project to pursue them. It also doesn’t mean ignoring them.

When I get struck by a new idea, I do a brain dump and write down everything I know about it. Sometimes in this process I’ll find myself making up even more. I just keep writing until I’ve got it all captured. Generally, even in ideas I think are fully formed, I’ll only end up with a page or two of information. That brilliant, fully formed book is really just a situation and a character, maybe an inciting incident. Once all that’s out of my head, I can get back to the current project and finish it. I can add to the new idea as things come to me, and by the time I finish the current project, that new idea may be developed enough that I can start doing serious work on it, like fleshing out the characters and working on a plot.

I have a current case study for that. I’m proofreading a book, which isn’t the most exciting work. I was chatting with my agent and mentioned this notion I had. It wasn’t even to the level of an idea. It was a kind of story in a kind of setting. She asked what the story would be, where the conflict would be, and I had no idea. That night, the story came to me and I felt like I had a good foundation for a story. When I wrote it all down, I had about three pages in a composition book. A lot of it was backstory and setting, with just a hint of what the plot would be. The plot part was essentially that two-sentence description like you might see about a movie on a streaming service.

Then last night the opening scene came to me. As I lay thinking about it after I woke up this morning, I felt like the whole book was coming together. I got out of bed and wrote down everything — and I had a page and a half in the composition book. I had a good opening line and some things that could happen in the first scene, which contains some of the worldbuilding. It always feels more fleshed out in my head than it is on the page. I do think this is a viable story idea, but it needs a lot more work before I’ll be ready to start writing it. In the meantime, I need to finish that proofreading.

I have had one instance since I started doing this for a living when I did drop the current project for the Shiny New Idea. I was working on the book that became A Fairy Tale and was really struggling with it. It just wasn’t coming together. Then I got the idea for Rebel Mechanics and started writing down what I knew about it — and ended up with a nearly complete synopsis. I decided it was worth putting the struggle book aside and working on the new idea. I did a lot of research to develop the world, then I had a proposal ready to go to my agent within a few months of getting the idea. That book sold to a publisher, and I ended up independently publishing A Fairy Tale, so it was probably a good call.

Now we’ll see how this new idea develops. I have most of March’s work planned, but when I get two projects off my plate I’ll be ready to start something new, and then I’ll see which project in development is closer to being ready to write.

movies, TV, Books, writing

Heroes and Villains

Some of the recent author discourse online this week has involved the nature of heroes and villains and the author’s responsibility in writing them. This stemmed from a statement from one of the writers of the TV series Breaking Bad about how maybe writers needed to think of the implications of what they wrote, after viewers seemed to have missed the point of that series. I didn’t watch it because it’s very much not my sort of thing, but I understand it’s a series about a high school chemistry teacher who finds out he has cancer and to provide for his family (possibly because insurance is bad and he won’t get good benefits?), he starts making and selling meth. Since he knows chemistry, his meth is superior to that made by trailer park junkies, and he becomes a sort of drug kingpin. This writer talked about how audiences saw him as a sympathetic figure who was doing what he needed to do to care for his family in an unjust system, but the writers thought they made it clear that this was just an excuse he used, while he actually ended up doing it for the power and money.

I have to say that this writer sounds pretty naive. You have a character in a respected profession that’s often seen as an underdog in society, dealing with something a lot of people can relate to (struggling with health insurance and finances), so people are going to sympathize with him and relate to him and try to justify his actions.

However, it doesn’t take a teacher with cancer dealing with health insurance for audiences to sympathize with bad guys. I’ve been around online discussion of various fictional things (TV, movies, books) since the mid-90s, and I’ve seen that it doesn’t take much for certain members of the audience to like and sympathize with the villain, even if they have to make up reasons to do so. You could have an unrepentant puppy murderer, and there would be people claiming he’s really just a softy, and he only murders puppies because the good guys were mean to him about his puppy murdering (especially if he’s attractive or charismatic). He could be saved and changed if only someone treated him right.

There’s what I call the hero/villain double standard. A villain doesn’t have to do much to be hailed as heroic. He just has to do one good thing, or sometimes even refrain from doing something bad one time. On the other hand, it sometimes seems like the most evil thing a hero can do is try to be a good person, so that even the slightest failure to live up to that ideal is worse than any evil the villain does. And yet, actually succeeding in being good makes him holier than thou and boring, and audiences want him cut down. The puppy murdering villain can be hailed as a hero for letting one puppy go, while the hero will be vilified for taking the largest brownie (but also criticized as holier than thou and too good to be true if he takes the smallest brownie).

But you can’t write for that audience because they’ll never be happy. They’re suspicious of people who try to be good and they think they can save villains.

I think writers may unintentionally feed into and encourage these views, though. While a villain redemption story can be satisfying under some circumstances, too many of them and you start to perpetuate the myth that all villains are actually good inside or doing their evil for selfless, good reasons. Writers like to redeem villains because it makes for a big, dramatic character arc — from selfish and evil to heroic. Meanwhile, the arc for a good guy usually isn’t so dramatic. At best, you get the farmboy to hero arc, where he’s not so bad at the beginning and all he really does is level up to deal with the situation he finds himself in. The way you get more drama is to tear down the hero and find his flaws.

In the world of series, especially long-running types of series like on TV, the structure of a series encourages the villain redemption arc. The villain is probably one of the more popular characters, but if you keep the same individual as the foe for too long, both the hero and the villain start to look incompetent if neither manages to defeat the other. You really can’t permanently defeat the hero of a series, but you don’t want to get rid of your most popular character. The answer is that you redeem the villain and bring on a new villain, so in later installments, the original villain is at first a reluctant ally with the heroes against the new villain, and gradually turns into a full-on hero. Viewers learn to look for the reasons that any villain will eventually become a hero, and as the villains and former villains remain popular characters among outspoken viewers, writers start focusing on them, sidelining the original heroes and not writing for them, so the heroes become more boring.

I’ve also seen people theorizing that Americans tend to go for underdogs who fight the system and challenge the status quo, but most of the heroes are defending the status quo, while the villains are the ones fighting the system (never mind that they’re often doing so for selfish reasons). I’m not sure I entirely agree with that, since there are way too many examples that go the other way around. In the Captain America movies, the most upright, pure of heart Marvel superhero is fighting the system and going rogue. He’s going against orders to do what he thinks is right, going against what he believes to be a corrupted organization, and even going against the other superheroes when he thinks they’ve sold out. (And, of course, a lot of fans vilified him when he finally made a selfish choice for his own happiness.)

Most of the Star Wars movies and shows have the heroes being rebels or resistance fighters against an evil system. The exception would be the prequel series, which was odd because the real villain was controlling both sides to undermine the system while the heroes were fighting to defend a system that they didn’t know had been corrupted. The least successful series so far, The Acolyte, was the one with the villains rebelling against the “good guy” Jedi system that was questionable. They find a middle ground in the shows centered around the Mandalorian, where the good guys aren’t really a part of the establishment and are sometimes in opposition to it while they’re also fighting outright villains, which puts them on the same side as the establishment.

And people still sided with the bad guys when they were the ones representing “the system.” I remember 1977, before Darth Vader had a sympathetic backstory, long before anyone imagined he’d be redeemed. In that first movie, he was mostly just a henchman supporting an evil bureaucrat, and he was an extremely popular character. There were “Darth Vader Lives!” t-shirts. Really, he was a cool costume and an awesome voice, and he had power he wasn’t afraid to use. Who hasn’t wanted to Force choke someone during a staff meeting? But none of the usual rationales for why people side with villains applied to this character in the original movie. He was mostly just intriguing and looked cool.

I think the answer isn’t to stop writing cool villains, lest audiences sympathize with them. It’s to write better heroes. Push audiences to sympathize with them. Don’t be afraid to make them human or flawed, but highlight where they’re good and heroic. Make them cool enough that people might want to be them. The writer has to like the good guys before the audience will.

TV, movies, Books, writing

Shipper Bait

Happy Valentine’s Day! I should probably talk about something romantic, but I’ve come to realize that both as a reader/audience member and as a writer, I’m more of a shipper than a romantic.

For those who aren’t up on Internet talk, “shipper” is short for “relationshipper.” As far as I can tell, the term originated in the X-Files Usenet newsgroup back in the mid-90s. If you wanted Mulder and Scully to get together, you were a relationshipper, or shipper. (The other faction was the No-Romos, who wanted them to stay friends and partners but not get involved romantically.) From there, the term spread. “Shipping” is wanting two characters to get together, looking for evidence that they might be developing feelings, imagining how they might get together and what it would look like if they did, sometimes even writing fan fiction about the characters being romantically involved. If you say you ship a couple, you want them to be romantically involved.

While some shippers really do want to see the couple get together, the real fun is in looking at the subtext and trying to figure out where things might be going. I think this is why I prefer to get my love stories in genres other than romance (and now romantasy). I have the most fun trying to read between the lines and figure out what the characters feel based on their actions. Romance novels are a lot more up front about the attraction. Even if the characters are denying it, you know where it’s going and it’s still pretty obvious. I think a lot of the “Moonlighting Curse” is due to this. Once the couple is together, you know where things stand and there’s no more room for imagination. (Though there were other things going on with Moonlighting, so it wasn’t just them getting together that killed the show.) This also makes it a lot harder to do in a book than in movies/TV. When you can get inside the characters’ heads, there’s little guessing, unless they’re utterly oblivious.

As an example, I’ve always said, not entirely jokingly, that Aliens is one of my favorite romantic movies. It’s fun to analyze the way Ripley and Hicks interact and see the way he looks at her and figure that they were falling for each other, and later they’d get together (the third movie Does Not Exist, so there). I was vindicated in this when I heard Michael Biehn say on a convention panel that he played the whole movie as though Hicks had a huge crush on Ripley.

I like to say that I write shipper bait instead of romance because the romantic relationships in my books tend to be fairly subtle and leave the impression of there being a lot more romance than there is because there’s so much material for the reader’s imagination. I’ve even had a book that didn’t have a kiss in it rejected by a fantasy publisher with the recommendation to send it to a romance publisher because it was too much of a romance.

I’ve been trying to think of my favorite fictional romances, or at least some that I think were handled well. I’ve got more from movies and TV than from books. Connie Willis probably does my favorite book romances, though she writes science fiction. Ned and Verity’s relationship in To Say Nothing of the Dog is quite lovely and has a swoonworthy conclusion. There’s also something pretty epic in the Blackout/All Clear duology that involves time travel and an outcome worth cheering out loud for. Lately, she’s been writing all-out science fiction romcoms, and they have just the right mix of romance and action. You want the couple to get together, but it’s not super obvious where things are going.

I think Jim and Pam’s relationship on The Office worked pretty well (aside from some iffy stuff in the final season). It helped there that the mockumentary format meant that we only saw what the camera crews were there to see, so even when they started dating it wasn’t entirely obvious what their status was and there was still room to guess and imagine.

Possibly my favorite TV romance was Nathan and Audrey on Haven, which had all kinds of supernatural stuff going on, plus one of my favorite paranormal tropes, the “in another life” thing in which the same people keep running into each other in different timelines, sometimes not knowing each other, but always falling in love when they meet.

Shipping isn’t limited to couples that actually do end up getting together or who are on that trajectory. I’ve even seen people ship characters from different fictional universes. It’s really common to ship non-canon relationships, sort of an amusing what if. My personal favorite there is that I figure things would have gone very differently for the galaxy if Obi Wan had ever turned to Padme and belted, “My gift is my song, and this one’s for you.” Seriously, an Obi Wan who looked like Ewan McGregor was right there, and she went for the whiny kid? I’ve seen some unhinged fan theories that this is what happened (well, maybe without him acting out Moulin Rouge), and Obi Wan was Luke and Leia’s real father. Anakin does get really jealous of Obi Wan having anything to do with her toward the end.

Somewhat closer to possibility is Cassian Andor and Jyn Erso in Rogue One. That lost opportunity is even sadder after the Andor series, which makes it look even more like she’s just the person he always needed, and they found each other just a bit too late. There are some pretty loaded looks they exchange. In my mental happy place, the Enterprise flies by and beams them out right before things go boom.

There’s a lot more room for romance in fantasy now that romantasy is the hot thing in the market, but I’m not sure I write enough outright romance for that. My shipper bait is too much for fantasy but not enough for romantasy.

writing

Superman or Underdog

One of the mental rabbit trails I found myself going down recently was considering where characters fall on the Underdog/Everyman/Superman spectrum and how that affects the story being told.

In general, characters — and particularly main characters/protagonists — fall along a spectrum. At one end are Underdogs, those who are weaker or less powerful than your average person. This would be the Cinderella type character in the “rags” stage where they’re essentially powerless. Audiences are encouraged to sympathize with or pity the Underdog and cheer for them as they try to rise above their situation, against all the odds.

In the middle is the Everyman or Average Joe, the person who’s at about the same level of power and ability as the average person. This is the girl/boy next door character, a staple of the romantic comedy. Audiences are encouraged to relate to or identify with this character. If a character is referred to as “relatable,” they’re probably an Everyman.

On the other end of the spectrum is the Superman, the person who’s more powerful than the average person. Most superheroes would be considered Superman characters (in one case, literally), but it’s not just about superpowers. The power could also be political or social status or great wealth, or it could involve high-level skills from intense training or experience. James Bond is a Superman character, along with kings and presidents. This is an aspirational character audiences are encouraged to admire and look up to.

Usually, this is all relative based on context. In a world where few people have magical powers, even an inept wizard would be a Superman, but in a setting where everyone’s magical, the inept wizard would be an Underdog. In superhero team-up movies, the scale may shift so that among people with superhuman powers there are some farther to the “Superman” end and some that count as Underdogs within that group. A character may also shift position as the context around him changes. In The Lord of the Rings, Frodo is an Everyman while he’s in the Shire. He doesn’t have special skills, power, or authority, but he’s also not at the bottom of society and needing to rise up. But once his quest begins, he becomes an Underdog. He’s smaller than most of the people around him, he doesn’t have the kind of training or special skills that others around him have, he’s mostly ignorant of the world he’s dealing with, and he’s up against an enemy with great power and resources.

Characters can move around on the spectrum. In fact, the story’s more interesting if the character does move around a bit. In a lot of superhero origin stories, the hero may start as an Underdog—like Peter Parker or Steve Rogers—until something happens to give them superpowers so they become a Superman. A character like Peter Parker may have a slower move toward Superman status because it takes him so long to adjust to having powers, figuring out what to do with them, and learning to use them without causing a disaster, so they may be an Underdog or Everyman who can do cool stuff. Or a character like Steve Rogers can simultaneously be both a Superman and an Underdog. Pre-Captain America Steve may be an asthmatic 90-pound weakling, but he’s already a Superman inside—smarter, nobler, and braver than the average person. He’s an Underdog because no one takes him seriously, but when he gets superpowers he doesn’t really change. He just gets a body to match his spirit.

Characters can move down, too. Whenever Superman is exposed to kryptonite, he temporarily becomes an Everyman or even an Underdog as he has to struggle to deal with situations without his usual strengths. Or there’s the common sports story arc, starting with the athlete at the top of his game until he gets injured and becomes an Underdog and has to fight to rise again.

I started thinking about all this when I started my rewatch of the Star Wars movies and shows and found myself analyzing yet again the issues with The Phantom Menace. One thing I realized is that all the main characters are clustered around the Superman end of the spectrum, without a lot of movement. As a Jedi Master, Qui Gon is at the far Superman end. Obi Wan is just a bit behind him, as an apprentice. Padme is a queen with political power, so she’s well past everyman, even if she’s not as far down as the Jedi with their powers. Anakin may be a kid and a slave when he’s introduced, but we don’t see the slavery affecting him that much onscreen. Instead, we hear all about how he’s more powerful with the Force than even Yoda, he’s the best at building and fixing things, and he’s the only human who can compete and win at pod racing. He’s definitely in the Superman area and doesn’t have much room to level up. The only Underdog in the main cast is Jar-Jar, the comic relief. You end up with a not very interesting story if everyone’s a Superman and they’re mostly static. It doesn’t even feel like they shift the curve so that within the Superman area there are Underdogs and Everymen. Anakin is constantly presented as too awesome to be an Underdog, even if he whines about not getting his due.

Contrast that with the original movie. Luke Skywalker is introduced at the Underdog side of Everyman. We don’t yet know that he might have any special powers or abilities. He’s young, inexperienced, and naive, and he’s entirely unprepared for the adventure he finds himself on. During the course of the movie, he learns enough and does enough to gradually move to the Superman side of Everyman, then during the course of the rest of the trilogy he levels up toward Superman. Meanwhile, we have Leia on the Superman end of the spectrum (as a princess and rebel leader), though she becomes something of an Underdog for a while when she’s a prisoner where her status doesn’t help her and she loses everything. Han starts just on the Superman side of Everyman, since he has great skills as a pilot and owns a spaceship, then he moves up a bit when he learns to be less selfish and becomes a hero.

Now I find myself looking at my own casts to see how they stack up, though it’s complicated by context in a lot of my books. The wizards in the Enchanted, Inc. series may have magical powers, but they exist in different parts of the scale compared to each other, and things may change when they’re away from work. Katie’s an Underdog in some ways but is considered a Superman by some of the wizards because she can do things they can’t.

writing

Adding to the Process

This week, while I’m between drafts on a book and letting it rest before I do the final proof (so it’ll feel more fresh and I won’t be reading what I expect to be there), I’ve dug out an old book that’s been backburnered for a while. I love the story, but I’ve never been happy with the ending. I’ve gone through about four wildly different versions of an ending and haven’t been satisfied with any of them.

I reread the whole book again, and I think I’ve figured out part of the problem, so I’ve outlined an ending that might work. Now I’m doing something I haven’t tried before that I may end up adding to my regular process. I’m writing summaries of the whole book from the perspective of each of the viewpoint characters. I’m starting with the backstory leading up to the story, then writing the events of the story from their point of view, as well as things they’re doing in scenes that aren’t in the book (like what they’re doing when the story is showing a different character) and their perspective on scenes that are told in another character’s point of view.

This is my way of testing the character arc to see how it flows when I’m not shifting perspective or going to a different part of the action, but it’s giving me ideas for what’s going on with these characters that I can then incorporate into the parts that are in the book. It’s also showing me where things get repetitive, like when a character keeps having similar realizations or when events are nearly the same in different parts of the book.

I think I may try this for my next book, but before I start writing it. This forces me to go into more detail than an outline does, so I can’t get away with handwaving “and then stuff happens,” and it’s a lot easier to rewrite and rewrite a few paragraphs of a summary when it’s not working than it is to rewrite several chapters (or a whole book). There’s still room to discover things along the way and change plans, but I also discover a lot of stuff while I’m doing this kind of work.

I need to write out the parts of my process and what I’ve figured out works for me so I can remember it for the next book.

It’s my favorite kind of writing weather today, cool and rainy, but above freezing. That means most of the snow is finally being washed away. My yard is almost entirely green again, and much of the snow on the north-facing lawns across the street is going. It’s a good day to drink tea and curl up in my chair to scribble in a notebook. I’ve got bread rising to bake this afternoon. Now it’s time to create.

Life, writing

Life and Fiction

I found myself going down a mental rabbit trail last night as I thought about how all my books seem to represent the phase of life I’m in at that time and things that are going on with me.

When I came up with the idea for the Enchanted, Inc. series, I was working for a major international public relations agency, doing PR for big corporations. I worked with a lot of Mimis and Gregors, both in the organization I was in and in client organizations. The first spark of the idea came when I was getting ready to log in to my e-mail and I found myself wishing that there would be a job offer in it. At the same time, my writing career was struggling. I’d had quick initial success but had gone a long time without being able to sell a book, in spite of a lot of trying. My main problem turned out to be that I was writing the wrong thing, something I didn’t actually enjoy. I hadn’t discovered my secret magical strength, I guess, and I was in the wrong place. Meanwhile, I was still trying to date and going on a lot of blind dates and setups. I had hopes of finding Mr. Right and having a family.

So I wrote a series about a young woman who thinks her life is on the brink of failure, but it turns out she’s just in the wrong place because she has skills she doesn’t even know she has. Once she finds what she can really do and contribute, she finds where she belongs, and everything falls into place for her.

The Fairy Tale series was a weird one because it involved a character who came to me in a dream decades earlier being slotted into an image that I dreamed, and then a story built around it based on all those editors who said they wanted something like Enchanted, Inc. but they didn’t want to continue that series. I started working on it not long after I learned that the series was being dropped by the publisher. I think at the time I was dealing with a lot of doubts about my potential and whether I was holding myself back. That came out in Sophie’s background of her having been so talented but then she felt like she had to give it all up. She was stuck until she was forced to take action and face everything. The time I was writing it was a difficult one for me, and that probably came through in the story.

I don’t think Rebel Mechanics came from anything in particular in my life. It’s probably my most political series, as it came from seeing what was going on in the world. It feels like we’re in a second Gilded Age, when so much of the wealth is concentrated in a few people who are living obscenely opulent lives while resisting paying taxes or paying their employees, and they have so much power over everyone else. That translated into wondering how it would work if they had literal magical power. I think the analogy is more apt now than ever, but I’m not sure I’m up for dealing with that world right now. It would be an unsettling place to dwell in for me. At some point, it might become cathartic to write about toppling everything, but to get there you have to be in the bad part of it.

The mysteries definitely reflect where I was when I was writing them. I started writing the first book at around the same time I started thinking about moving somewhere else. I didn’t have a target at the time, but I knew I wanted to get away from a major metropolitan area. So, I created a small town for my heroine to go to. The eerie thing is that the town I created is so much like the town I ended up moving to, and I’d written at least three of those books before I even heard about this town. My current town is much bigger than the one in the books and a lot hillier, and it’s laid out differently, but there’s a lot in common. We have the preserved Victorian main street with shops and restaurants on the ground floor and apartments and offices above. There’s even an old movie theater next door to a Mexican restaurant (but it’s a first-run theater instead of just showing classics). There’s a co-working hub like the one in the books (and now I don’t remember how much of that ended up in the books. I wrote whole scenes involving it that I think got cut). There’s a park with a bandstand gazebo where they hold concerts and where they did the July 4 festivities. Our rail station is active for passenger rail, both Amtrak and sightseeing excursions, unlike the one in the books. The downtown area is surrounded by historic homes, though ours are a bit older than you’d find in most Texas towns. The house I’m buying that was built in 1900 isn’t considered “historic” here (which is nice because it means I don’t have to abide by historical society rules in what I do with it). There’s even a wealthy man (an architect rather than a tech billionaire) who’s been behind a lot of the preservation of the town and restoring and repurposing some of the old buildings. I basically created my dream town before I actually found it in real life.

Right now, I’m finding myself drawn to secondary world fantasy, where none of it involves our world. I saw a joke on Facebook about how Mr. Rogers had it right: Come home, change into comfortable clothes, then escape to the Land of Make Believe. That’s where I am at the moment. I’m enjoying playing in this other world. The cozy fantasy subgenre is something I’ve always wanted. I love the parts of The Lord of the Rings that are just the characters hanging out in the Shire or in Rivendell. I wanted stories about just being in those places without any worry about fleeing from orcs or the Nazgul or the threat of the whole world getting sucked into darkness. I just want daily life in magical places.

I remember that when the series Westworld was first on TV, I found myself pondering what kind of high-tech, immersive amusement park I’d want to visit, and I came to the conclusion that I’d want a mild fantasy quest, basically an excuse for a journey through the world, with some purpose but without a lot of stakes. Of course, in that theme park of the world, there would be overnight stops set up to look like you’re camping in the woods, but that mossy stretch of ground would actually be a comfortable mattress, and there’d be a modern bathroom in that huge tree trunk. That’s also the kind of fictional experience I want–the low-stakes adventure in a magical world, not hidden modern conveniences.

With the Rydding Village books, it’s all about finding a place and building a community, and that’s definitely where I am now. I’ve also been working on a less-cozy romantasy that’s about leaving the familiar and going into the unknown, which is also my current state.

In other news, I got the house! Contract’s signed. The inspection is tomorrow. Now I’ll need to sell a lot of books to rebuild my savings and buy nice things for the new place.

writing

The Process

I recently saw a quote about how you never really learn to write a novel. You learn to write this novel. Each one is different. Some are easier, some are harder, even when you have something like 30 books under your belt.

But you can hone your process along the way and figure out things that usually work for you and things that definitely don’t work. Some of that may change as you get into different phases of your career.

For instance, there’s the advice that it’s best to write the whole book before you start revising it. That makes sense on some levels. It’s especially important for your first book because that tendency to try to make chapter one perfect before moving on has stalled out way too many writers who end up never finishing a book. It doesn’t make much sense to fine-tune and perfect the early part of the book until you see how the whole book comes out and know whether that part will have to be rewritten.

On the other hand, there’s no point in plowing ahead when you feel like you’ve taken a wrong turn. If you keep writing on the wrong path, you’ll just have to rewrite everything. You might as well go back to where you feel the problem is and figure it out before you move forward. My general rule is that you backtrack to fix plot, not details. If you just need to pull a Bill and Ted and go back to put a trash can there for when you need it later, you can leave yourself a note. That’s why I like using Scrivener for writing — it’s quick and easy to find the scene that needs fixing, and there’s a space for notes on the scene, so as soon as you realize you’re going to need that garbage can, you can go to the scene where you need to set it up and write a note saying “put garbage can here,” then go back to writing as though the can has been there all along. You definitely don’t want to go back to make the words pretty, since the words are likely to change.

I generally find that my process involves writing a scene, then that night realizing what I did wrong and how the scene could be better, maybe some stuff I forgot to include. The next day, I start my writing session with revising the previous day’s writing to fix it and add the stuff I forgot. That gives me momentum to plow ahead.

Based on the book I’m working on now, I think I’m going to add a mid-book review to my process. At around the midpoint, I need to review what I’ve already written, since by that time there are a lot of versions in my head and I’m not sure what’s actually in the book. There’s what I thought of when I was outlining, there’s the initial scene, and there’s the “oops, I did it wrong” rewrite. I often drift far from my outline. It’s hard to write the end of the book when you aren’t sure what’s in the beginning, so it’s a good idea to go back and reread it all. That reread may reveal things that need to be fixed. In straying from the outline, did I forget to include some critical elements? Have I been meandering and writing whole scenes that lend nothing to the story? Do I have too many scenes that are essentially the same thing happening over and over? Is the plot even working? Fixing all this stuff at the midpoint means the ending goes more smoothly.

In the current book, I’ve realized that a different character is the protagonist for one of the story lines, so I’m rewriting to make him a viewpoint character. I can’t adequately tell that story from someone else’s perspective. As soon as I went back through the various story outline models looking at it that way, all the story beats clicked into place and I figured out how the ending should go. That’s a good sign.

So now instead of getting near the end and realizing I have no idea what’s going to happen, I think I’m going to plan to review when I get to a particular spot in the story. I’ll build that into my timeline so I won’t feel like doing that is putting me behind. That should also make my production schedule more realistic. If I need less time than I plan for, I can get a head start on the next project or work in another project in between (or take time off!). It’s a lot harder to adjust when I need more time than I planned for.

writing

Writing in a Daze

I hit my target word count for Rydding Village book 3, but I’m only at about 2/4 of the way through the story, and I’m not entirely sure what should happen next. I checked my outline notes, and it turns out that the ending I had planned was based on an entirely different middle (and was pretty vague). It seems I veered into an unexpected direction along the way.

So now I’m regrouping by rereading the book up to this point, since I couldn’t remember what I’d planned vs. what I actually wrote and I need to base the end on what’s actually in the book. It turns out that I seem to have written this book in a kind of daze because I don’t remember writing a lot of this — and it’s only been a month since I started writing.

For instance, in chapter 20 I wrote a scene that involved the viewpoint character trying to figure out who a person was and getting her first impression of that character, since I didn’t think the viewpoint character had encountered this person before. But in chapter 4 there was a whole scene of her being formally introduced to this person.

I also seem to have changed my mind a few times along the way, going back and forth about what a character’s attitude toward a particular topic should be.

Then there are the amusing typos. Some of them come across like I was doing dictation and the transcription software misread what I was saying, like the word “end” for what should have been “inn.” I guess I was transcribing the story coming out of my brain and glitched. Some of them are clearly me hitting the wrong key adjacent to the key I was aiming for or missing a key, but somehow it still makes a real word that makes sense in the sentence while drastically changing the meaning of the sentence. I’m fixing these things as I find them to avoid future confusion even though this pass is meant to be just reading to refresh my memory, but I’m going to have to be really careful when editing because this isn’t something an editor is likely to catch if the editor doesn’t know what I meant to say. It looks like a reasonable sentence if you don’t know what I was trying to say.

Rereading the book is helping me clarify character arcs that will lead to an ending. It’s also helping me check pacing. It takes so much longer to write a book than it does to read one, and it often takes a lot longer to write a fast-paced scene than a slower one, so what feels like it might be dragging might be the most intense scene to read.

I hope to finish rereading today, do some thinking over the weekend, then finish this draft next week. I’m not sure about my release strategy. I might be falling into the holiday rush if I try to publish later this year, so I may give myself a little breathing room for thinking and revising and publish early next year. Things always seem to end up taking a lot longer than I planned.

writing

Writing Mode

I’m in big writing mode, about a third of the way through Rydding Village book 3, which means I don’t have a lot of brainpower for much else. It’s been so long since I’ve doing this kind of serious writing, back early in the year, before the move. Since then, I’ve mostly been editing and revising, proofreading, and all the business stuff. It feels so good to be back in the mode of seeing a story unfold. I’ve plotted this book, but I’m still discovering fun things along the way as I write.

The weather’s even cooperated, giving me some good rainy days, which are good for writing. I don’t really have an office in my current home. The living room, kitchen, dining room, and office are all one big room. I set up a little sliver of space between the living room area and the kitchen/dining room area, with a laptop stand and a desk chair facing a window. I can sit there to write and look out the window at some trees. One handy thing about everything being one room is that snacks and drinks are easy to get to. In my old house, I had to go down the stairs to get to the kitchen instead of taking a few steps.

A laptop computer, a lap desk, and a red composition book sit on a metal mesh circular table in the foreground, with a green lawn, trees, and a wooden fence in the background.
The back porch office for brainstorming mode. If I’m actually writing, I’ll bring out the laptop stand so I can get it to the optimum height.

When it’s not raining, I take the laptop stand to the back porch and sit outside to work, though I’m likely to get distracted by the antics of the squirrels, especially now, when they’re running around with acorns and nuts in their mouths, looking for places to hide them. If I’m sitting really still other than my fingers moving on the keyboard, they seem to forget I’m there and will run across the porch, sometimes even under my chair, which startles me. There’s nothing like having a squirrel run under your chair and between your feet to jolt you out of your writing flow.

Writing these books makes me want all the tea, which is another nice thing about having my office essentially in the kitchen. I can get up to make a pot of tea, write a little while the kettle boils, then write a little more while the tea steeps.

Now, back to the writing!