Tag: novels

About Me

The Man Who Invented Christmas and Characterization

Autumn

I have a thing for watching corny Christmas movies in December, which is how I came across The Man Who Invented Christmas. It’s about Charles Dickens during the time period in which he wrote A Christmas Carol.

Overall, it really wasn’t my cup of tea. I finished watching it anyway, despite interruptions breaking the movie up into multiple sittings, because I did like how it portrayed Dickens chatting with the fictional character of Scrooge whenever anyone else wasn’t around.

My favorite moment was when Dickens entered his study, stuffed full of fictional characters milling around, and one of them asked, “Who is that?”

Scrooge replied something like, “No one of any import — just the author.”

I’m going off of memory here, so forgive me if I got the line wrong. The spirit is there.

I busted out laughing, because that’s how I write.

My characters are as real to me as, well, real people. I talk to them and listen to the stories they tell me. Writers block happens when they refuse to answer my questions, and getting through it is a matter of finding out how to get them to open up again with better questions. Sometimes, I feel like I’m helplessly scribbling down as much as I can while they chatter away too fast for me to follow. Othertimes, they patiently work with me through the interruptions that come with being the mom. It’s often very sad when the story is done and we say our goodbyes.

I suppose that being crazy isn’t necessary for being a writer, but it certainly helps!

About Writing

Pinterest and formulas

Autumn

I look at Pinterest when I’m too tired to function, and the site is always eager to suggest infographics and articles about how I should be writing; everything from tips to make scenes more emotional to character questionnaires.

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s being told that I have to follow a formula.

Ages ago, I didn’t want to go to college, but everyone told me I had to if I wanted to have a future. Two years in, I was so badly burnt out that I cried every morning when I got out of bed. Then one day it hit me: I didn’t have to be there.

I dropped out, got a full time job, and rented my own apartment. Complete strangers had a meltdown over my actions. Didn’t I care about my fuuuuture????!!!

Meh. I was happier. I met my husband during that time period.

And yeah, so life did get crappy when the job market crashed. Having a college degree wouldn’t have saved me from that, however, and experience isn’t a bad thing. I didn’t cease to exist, and I learned how to really appreciate life. I like who I am now, scars and everything.

Unfortunately, formulas seem to make a lot of people happy. You know, guaranteed results in three easy steps! If you follow the formulas perfectly enough, you’ll be rich and famous. And my knee-jerk reaction is: you can’t tell me what to do! I make my own paths.

When I create characters, I don’t fill out worksheets. I give them names, ask them, ‘what makes you tick?” then listen — that’s the important part. It’s chaotic and unpredictable. It doesn’t follow any rules. It’s fun.

I can’t guarantee results. Heck, other than really enjoying myself as a writer, I haven’t seen any myself! But you know what I’ve learned? It’s the journey that counts.

About Writing

The Benefits of Using a Handwritten Binder for Writing

Autumn

I like to work on one novel at a time, as I have found that not only is my focus much better that way, it serves as good motivation to actually finish the story before moving on to the next — otherwise I’d have a million works-in-progress and no endings.

Inspiration, on the other hand, doesn’t follow my schedule. It strikes whenever it pleases. That’s one of the reasons why I prefer keeping a handwritten binder rather than typing on a laptop. My binder is indispensable, always nearby, and never low on battery.

Whenever a new idea hits me, I write a page or two like this:

It’s not beautiful or elegant. In and of itself, it’s too vague to be particularly enjoyable for reading, but it contains everything I need to remember the idea.

Sometimes I don’t know any names, so I write down variables instead, such as “B” or “Z”. Those pages tend to look really weird.

Then it goes into the back of my binder, and waits for its turn. The proximity ensures that I often see it and thus never forget its existence.

When it’s time to start a new novel, I pick the idea that has the loudest voice.

About Writing

Why Plot Twists Need Logical Consistency

Autumn

I suppose that one of the side effects of taking lots of creative writing classes in the early 2000’s is that I follow a lot of guidelines that have been tossed aside by my contemporaries. With years of contemplation and analysis, I have decided that they are very good ideas indeed, and I kind of wish that more writers thought the same way.

Plot twists that don’t make any sense.

The most egregious example of this is Disney’s Frozen, with the whole, “Hans is secretly evil” thing. His accounting for his actions is that he wanted to be king, but going through with marrying Anna would have given him exactly what he wanted, especially with Elsa running around crazy — come on, it’s not like marrying into an advantageous position never happened historically. Also, wanting to be king is ambitious, but not wrong in and of itself.

The whole, “I’m going to let you die while I laugh evilly” scene is nonsensical and jarring. After all, if the guy is that much of a sociopath, he’d maintain the act right through the very end, and never reveal his true thoughts under any circumstances.

The worst part is, there isn’t a single ounce of foreshadowing. I know that plenty of people have come up with “epileptic trees” style theories trying to prove there is, but I’ve seen that movie a million times thanks to my little girls, and there isn’t even a calculating look or anything. Rule of thumb: if foreshadowing isn’t immediately obvious the second time around, then it isn’t there.

It’s like the writers didn’t have the slightest clue how it should end, so they randomly threw that in as a drunken late night decision, and it killed the whole movie.

Plot twists must stay in character and make logical sense.

Even if you feel like you’re giving everything away by mentioning that Martha was irrationally jealous five chapters before she runs Jimmy over with a car, remember that the readers aren’t going to know what you’re building up to, but they will feel jilted if they think you’re deliberately jerking them around. Also remember that bragging, “I SAW IT COMING FIRST!” is just as much fun for the readers as being taken completely by surprise.

Or maybe the story will later reveal that Martha was possessed by a demon, and that’s why her actions were suddenly out of character. After all, these are only guidelines.

About Writing

Rules, shmules

Autumn

I hate those “writing things to avoid” sorts of lists, as I feel that they rather miss the spirit of creativity. After all, slavish devotion to a set of rules will result in limited writing.

Take, for example, the advice to never start with the description of weather. If you say it fast and don’t think too hard, it seems like sound advice. After all, something like, “The sun was shining brightly as Timmy walked down the street” is pretty boring.

But sometimes the weather matters.

The sun was shining brightly, the birds were singing cheerfully, and a cool breeze was playing through the leaves, making it the perfect day to work, Timmy thought as he pulled out his hacksaw and began cutting up the corpse in front of him.

The description of weather is used to deliberately create a juxtaposition with Timmy’s grim work. That’s interesting.

So, if you’re starting with describing the weather just because you don’t know where else to start, then you should probably spend more time brainstorming. However, don’t be afraid of describing the weather if it serves a purpose to enhance the story, no matter what someone on the internet might have said. Whoever wrote those rules was just after page views anyway.

About Me

On holding pencils

Autumn

When I was in kindergarten, I was officially diagnosed with ‘holding my pencil wrong.’ The adults fretted that my handwriting would always be crippled, that I’d never be able to write cursive, that I would always be a weirdo for life.

Being a little kid and all, I tried very hard to learn how to hold pencils the ‘right’ way.

The ‘right’ way made my handwriting worse and hurt my hand. I always subconsciously switched back to my wrong way, because it felt so much more natural. The adults practically melted with anxiety over my future.

Finally, in fifth grade my teacher announced that my handwriting was fine, and that I could keep holding my pencils however I wanted. After all, in her experience, if the correction hadn’t been made by that point, then it would likely never happen. Hallelujah, I was free!

In high school, the other teens said it was freaky how I held my pencil. I had a pronounced callous on my pinky finger from the amount of writing I did. My ceramics teacher predicted that I could be a calligrapher, if I wanted. I was proud of how I held pencils.

I write all of my rough drafts by hand. I have my fountain pen, medium nib, my collection of Japanese inks, and a binder stuffed to the gunwales with paper. My current WIP has reached 100 pages, with about 400 words per page in my handwriting. I don’t suffer much hand-fatigue; I can easily hit the 1,000 word mark without any discomfort. The callous on my finger as all but vanished since I quit using ballpoints. I don’t see why everyone made such a fuss when I was a kid.

I am, however, an irreparable weirdo; but I don’t think that has anything to do with how I hold pencils.

About Writing

Just write

Autumn

There are a gazillion blogs out there that are all to eager to tell you how to write, but I am not one of them.

My philosophy boils down to: just do it.

Remember, 50 Shades of Grey was a mega fad, despite the rather unnerving tie worn by Mr Grey in the first chapter. Obviously, the world can be forgiving.

So who cares about rules? Just write, rewrite, edit, and nitpick, then let it out into the wild. Maybe something will happen, maybe not. The important part is creating something that you enjoy.

So young – and attractive, very attractive. He’s tall, dressed in a fine gray suit, white shirt, and black tie with unruly dark copper colored hair and intense, bright gray eyes that regard me shrewdly.
About Me

Role Playing

Autumn

Role playing was the worst thing that I ever did to my writing.

I know how it is to be an introverted fantasy geek, stumbling my way onto forums and finding, much to my delight, that people liked my characters — characters that felt more like me than the real life me, who was too shy to talk much. I’ve loved and lost some actual, real-people friends on those boards, too. I’ve been there. I get it.

And it wreaked absolute havoc on my ability to write.

Role playing is very different from writing a novel. For example, a novel happens entirely in your own head, and even if you chat about it with others in between writing sessions, every single last word is typed by your own hands. There aren’t any surprises. No quick thinking. You can go on and on for pages and pages, god-moding like there’s no tomorrow, and no one will ever complain or defriend you. It’s just you and your OCs.

Role playing, on the other hand, happens one paragraph at a time. Write a paragraph, wait, read what happens next, then respond with another paragraph. Rinse and repeat. Over and over. For hours.

The underlying structure is completely different, but it has an enormous influence on writing style. It kills the flow, and paragraphs become like islands that respond to each other, rather than build upon each other. You can always spot someone who’s heavy into the RP — it shows.

I didn’t dream about being a role playing geek when I was 12. I wanted to be an author. I wanted to write books, not paragraphs. And one day, it hit me really hard that my writing had gone down the toilet. Too many paragraphs responding to paragraphs, and not enough storytelling. I was devastated to realize that my writing had been better at 14 than it was it was at 18.

Goodbye, my fellow fantasy geeks. It was fun.

It took me years to purge it out of my system, to lock the correct mindset back into place. As much fun as it was, I will probably never return to role playing.

Not to mention, I’m, like, in my 30s and married with kids now. It would be a little weird.

About Me

Sleepy

Autumn

WordPress is congratulating me on my blogging streak.

Truth is, I haven’t been sleeping well, and when I’m tired I talk to myself more.

Instead of doing anything useful, I’m just chattering away in my head about nothing in particular, because I can’t think clearly.

Anyway, I did pointless a doodle about my next novel.

So WordPress can love my blogging streak even more.

Books

The Bride

Autumn

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My rating: 2/5

I’ve read other books by Julie Garwood that I enjoyed, so I had expectations for this one. However, if I had randomly found this book in a thrift store and read an excerpt from the middle, I very likely would have skipped it.

The main character is your classic Mary-Sue, who is described as being exceedingly beautiful (but naturally she doesn’t know it), possesses a man’s name, and is very intent on telling everyone and their dog that she isn’t a typical woman, before turning around and doing typical things left and right — like a typical woman.

The writing itself feels amateurish, and there are a surprising number of typos and editing mistakes for something that was originally published in the 80’s. However, lets forgive that, in light of the popularity of Harry Potter and Twilight. Everyone’s got to start somewhere.

The characterization was non-existent. Every single last stinking one of them existed solely to praise the main character. They were props, without even a semblance of a personality between the lot of them — even the main male character who served as The Husband. I’m not even sure how many characters there were, because they were all the same cardboard cutout.

And the main character wasn’t even likable.

Overbearing was the word that kept floating in my head, and I died a little inside every time she opened her mouth or did anything. I kept thinking, “Good God woman! Just get off my back already!” and I wasn’t even the one she was criticizing and bossing around.

The plot was non-existent, and everything that happened was obviously a lead up for gratuitous sex scenes, that weren’t particularly sexy — in fact, the obsession with the man’s tongue practically tickling tonsils kind of left me feeling a little gaggy.

To top it off, there were a lot of modernisms that were just plain hoakie, and I’m not even referring to the frequent use of the word “hot”. Despite the fact that the book is set in 12th century Scotland, I don’t think the author researched anything past the word ‘bliaut.’

While it’s not the worst thing I’ve ever read, I still wouldn’t recommend it.

If you decide to read it anyway, then you’ll understand what I mean when I say that the rocking chair was the corniest thing ever.