Tag: writer

About Me

…

Autumn

My malfunction:

There was a time when my life sucked. I’d complain about particulars, but I’m also intensely secretive, so you’ll just have to make do with that statement: it really sucked.

I didn’t have any money, but I had a laptop and spent most of my time hanging out at places that provided wifi, reading silly webcomics, browsing Imgur, and watching Hulu (back when they were still primarily free). It was my only distraction from how much everything sucked.

I looked forward to updates, and laughed at everything funny. It got me through the darkness, not unscathed, but still alive. Sometimes just surviving is a major feat in and of itself.

Writing is my talent and my passion. It’s what I have to offer to the world at large, outside of my ‘happily ever after’ that my husband and I have crafted together. It’s how I give meaning to lingering pain that would otherwise feel meaningless. I write because I am a writer.

I cannot, however, ask for much money from it. My soul won’t permit it.

I won’t be JK Rowling or Stephenie Meyer. No millions, no movie deals, no fame.

What I fantasize is giving someone else the distraction they need during a crappy time in their life, to help get them through it alive.

It’s not my place to ever know if I actually accomplish that goal or not, as long as I keep putting stories “out there” to land wherever they will. No ego stroking for me.

It’s the reason why I only write happy endings.

And that is my malfunction; the reason why I don’t advertise or solicit reviews. I firmly believe that I will be found by the ones who need to find me, and when they do I need to be within their grasp.

That’s how I will repay my debt to the Universe.

About Writing

World Building

Autumn

Writing communities always make me feel like I’m the crazy, avant-garde person that everyone dismisses because I’m just so out there.

Crazy is a given. But avant-garde? I don’t think so. I always thought I was more old-fashioned in my approach.

There’s a hyper-focus on world building, world building, world building(!!!1) with fantasy and sci-fi. This is obviously inspired by everyone fantasizing that they are writing the next Lord of the Rings.

Me? I thought Lord of the Rings was okay. Not inspiring, but not a waste of time. Certainly not something I want to emulate. Definitely not something I want to endlessly reread with different clothing.

The problem with novels based on world building is that they are dry. The plot is painfully generic, and the characters are one-dimensional props that bounce from explanation to explanation; about how dragons are blah blah blah, and the king’s daughter is blah blah blah, and magic is blah blah blah. Maybe the main character is given an interesting ability, but then their personality is so stereotypical that no one can be bothered to actually care. Insert weird names like fah’ri and el’wes in a effort to make it more unique, but not really…

I confess that I quit reading high fantasy when I was in middle school. Never could develop the stomach for it.

My style is character-driven storytelling. Instead of drawing maps, I read books on psychology. I think about readability and flow. The plot is a natural extension of the characters, driven by their goals and personalities. I build just enough world to give the story a solid foundation, but I don’t think about it excessively. I don’t come up with enough material for a compendium by any stretch of the imagination.

So, while the topic of writing is something that I have put a great deal of time and consideration into, my fundamental approach is different from everyone else in my chosen genres. I’m crazy and different, and no one seems to know how to respond to me. Ha ha.

Maybe I’m even avant-garde.

About Me, About Writing

Finding Beauty in the Ordinary: A Writer’s Journey

Autumn

I’ve always believed that a talented enough writer could turn the topic of drying paint into a fascinating read, but there’s something that I didn’t quite realize until my late 20s:

You have to be the sort of person that sees the beauty in drying paint in the first place.

This is on the “no duh” side of epiphanies, but frankly, it’s not how I was taught to live.

I was raised on the “go to college, get married, spend the rest of your life balancing work and family” formula. Occasionally someone would advise to stop and smell the roses, but you weren’t supposed to notice the veins of color in the petals, or compose metaphors to describe the scent. You definitely weren’t supposed to study the thorns in great detail either.

Did I lose you? Do you understand?

I rebelled when I was 20. I don’t mean that I went to wild parties or did anything stupid; I’ve always been far too introverted for rambunctious crowds, and too conscientious for short-sighted acts. I went to the park late at night to play on the swing set and feel the cool summer air play through my hair. I danced in rainstorms. I fell madly in love with the simple things, like listening to crickets or watching a candle flame dance. I engaged.

And no one understood. How could they? I was surrounded by people who spent their entire lives dissociated from their experiences, and they just didn’t know what to do with me. I was labeled ‘weird’ and left at that.

Being a talented writer isn’t just knowing the mechanical skills, it’s an entire way of living. It’s being unafraid to see the world like no one else does. It’s embracing both the pleasure and the pain. When you, as a person, live a life of passion, it will automatically permeate your writing.

That’s one of the reasons why I feel so driven to write: I want to share how I experience life in a way that others will understand. I want to offer more than what can be seen on the surface.

Metaphorically speaking, I want to express the beauty I see in drying paint.

About Writing

Writing for readers

Autumn

At some point during the writing process, you have to start thinking about your readers.

I don’t mean you should sellout and introduce a teenage vampire who spends all day angsting about how much he hates himself, and all night getting spanked in the local underground BDSM scene, before being chosen to participate in a deadly game of wits and survival. Yuck. No.

When you chat with someone face-to-face, it’s considered polite to speak clearly and audibly, and to continually read the other person’s cues to make sure they aren’t growing bored by your rambling. When you’re done, you say goodbye instead of just walking away.

Writing should be approached with the same considerations. While it’s much harder to work without a present audience yawning and glancing at their cell phones, it’s good to empathize with imaginary readers and place yourself in their shoes, so to speak.

Continually ask yourself questions like:

“Is this sentence clear or do I need to reword it?”

“Is this part boring?”

“Are my transitions smooth or jarring?”

“Does this paragraph flow when I read it out loud, or is it choppy?”

“Is the end too abrupt?”

Etc, etc, etc.

Your readers are your best friends; they’re the ones who appreciate a part of you that even your parents don’t know about (at least for many of us writers, lol). Don’t take them for granted. Be a gracious host and make sure that they’re having a good time.

If you know someone you trust who fits your target audience, go ahead and use them as a beta reader. Watch them read. Pay attention to their facial expressions and body language. While they may say that something is good, a wrinkled brow and down turned mouth will tell you that there was something unsatisfying, but they might not be able to articulate it. Don’t take it personally, just think about how to make it better. I promise you that it’s a good feeling to come back with the improved version and watch someone gush over something they were previously “meh” about.

While it’s good practice to write the first draft for yourself, be in the habit of rewriting the last one for your readers. They have the power to set you down and dismiss you forever, so don’t lord your ego over them. Be nice and considerate, and show some appreciation.

About Writing

Character Descriptions

Autumn

The other day I asked my husband, “What the heck does it mean when people describe eyes as ‘almond-shaped’?”

So he pulled up some references on drawing eyes and explained the differences, before grabbing some photographs for me to guess which shape the eyes would be.

I proved that I will never be a visual artist when I described them all as, “eye-shaped.”

A lot of writers describe characters like they’re sitting next to a sketch artist, who wants to know just how wide their forehead is in relation to the height of their nostrils and all that, but personally I’m not visually oriented enough to pull that off. I like to joke that I would make a terrible witness to a crime, because my description would be along the lines of, “He looked like an evil horse, only with fish eyes . . . no, I haven’t the slightest clue how tall he was.”

When I look at someone, I don’t notice many physical details; I think of them in metaphorical and emotional terms instead. That’s why I think that all eyes are ‘eye-shaped,’ but some of them are more fish-like than others.

Everyone is going to picture something different when they visualize my horsey villain, but the mental image will tickle the fancy far more than “long face and wide-set eyes.” I care more about amusement than pedantry when it comes to my craft.

The next time you write a character description, don’t try to force Brad Pitt’s face on all your readers — it’s okay to step back, paint with broad strokes, and say something different. Let your readers choose for themselves what they want to imagine. A story that asks for a little thought in return will be far more engaging than one that spoon-feeds every detail.

2009-10-16-beartato-drawharrisonfrommemory
If I were an artist…

Source

About Writing

Most people can’t write

Autumn

Most people can’t write.

I know, we live in a society where everyone is expected to be hyper-accepting and non-judgmental, blindly praising, “That’s really good!” before ghosting off so you can never be pressed for your real opinion. But I’ve never been able to follow the crowd.

I realized that fact in my Advanced Creative Writing class, when I was surrounded by students who were presumably SERIOUS about writing, had already studied it to some extent, yet who were producing stories that were on par with a regular English student’s. Whaa?

I see it all the time in writing communities now. People will proudly declare, “Writing is my passion!” then not even know how to use a semicolon correctly. Critique wise, one is expected to point out typos in addition to blind praise, and I tend to get a bad name for myself by saying what actually needs to be improved to make the story better. I do it for myself, truthfully, because analyzing others keeps me on my toes with my own writing.

No, writing isn’t your passion. Your passion is feeling special, and you don’t care at all about the agonizing hours of rewriting, coupled with the constant study of grammar, storytelling, and psychology, second-guessing every sentence with intense embarrassment that someone will notice how mediocre it is. You want to be complimented more than you want to be skilled.

Sadly, there are also plenty of people who have the potential to be good, but they are unwilling to set their egos aside to learn how to improve themselves. In the end, they aren’t any different from the others.

Ah, how cruel I am.

You must be asking now, “Can you write?” eager to knock me down a peg after my self-important rant.

Barely.

I know how to edit mercilessly and handle criticism.

That’s what makes the difference.

About Writing

Complaining

Autumn

Why do I complain so much about contemporary literature?

Personally, I’m not likely to run into any sort of shortage of used books to read — as anyone who has been in a thrift store can attest to — so the hottest new releases don’t have any affect on me no matter how badly they are written. If I were to speak truthfully from the coldest place in my heart, I think it would be a relief if publishing houses died wholesale. Good riddance.

Contemporary literature is all about making money. Idealistically, we want to believe that ‘high quality = more profit’, but the popularity of the YouTube channel ‘5 Minute Crafts’ is undeniable proof that sentiment just isn’t true. Profit comes from tickling algorithms coupled with click-bait, and corporations have turned it into a science.

The thing is, ‘5 Minute Crafts’ and its ilk aren’t harmlessly mediocre underneath all the hype. I’ve seen videos promoting burning your hair with a candle, soaking strawberries in bleach, and other such activities that have no business in a DIY context, and should never be tried at home. Seriously, burning your hair is not a fast way to get rid of split ends, it is a stinky way to get rid of your hair. People are prophesying that these channels will one day kill YouTube.

Let’s bring the topic back to books: publishing houses, and by extension writers, are excessively geared towards money. The algorithms utilize formulaic stories that just so happen to hit all the right trending key words, and the shiny covers function as the click bait. Whether or not the story is actually well written and engaging is never the question.

You see, it doesn’t matter how much teachers extol the virtues of reading, no one is going to bother if the experience is a tedious one. Every time I hear someone say that they hate reading, I sympathize with the statement, “Most books suck.”

I say that as a writer.

The last I heard, fiction sales have been steadily dropping for some time now, and I don’t believe that the popularity of video streaming or video games has anything to do with it — movies have existed for quite some time, and the adage has always been, “the book is better” up until now. I believe that fiction is dying because no one gives a shit if the reader has an enjoyable experience or not, so long as they can collect on the royalties.

Statistically I also contribute to “the death of the novel”, because I haven’t purchased anything new in the last ten years, even though I still read books. I’m not voracious by any stretch of the imagination, but I’m usually working my way through something. I’m sure there are others who read plenty of fiction, but who also prefer used books, or websites that provide content for free. Humans have loved storytelling since the dawn of time, and that isn’t going to change.

I complain about contemporary literature because, as a writer, I often feel like I’ve dedicated my life to a field that is gaining an increasingly bad rap through blatant mismanagement. It doesn’t matter how much love and attention I put into producing quality works if people have been taught through experience to hate reading in the first place.

Since I’m not delusional enough to believe that my solitary rumblings are going to have any sort of effect on the world, I often wonder what other sort of venues are there for connecting with readers. How can I publish novels without resorting to books? How can I stand apart from contemporary literature?

Stories

Writing prompt – Rebirth

Autumn

You just died. You go toward the light, but when you reach it, you emerge into a delivery room as a brand new, screaming baby. You have no more control over this new body than any other baby, and no one looking at you has any idea that you possess the consciousness and memories of your old life

 

At 53, my life hadn’t been long enough. After all the stumbles and faux pas of youth, I had finally begun to figure things out, and I had finally begun to look forward to each morning. My children had grown and moved out, leaving me with enough time to think, and perhaps more importantly to sleep, and I had realized with startling clarity what was Important, and what wasn’t. My deepest regret was that most of my life had been spent missing out on the good things in favor of the superficial.

My death was abrupt, and perhaps a little glorious. While I was driving home from work, a sudden yet powerful gust of wind knocked a semi-truck off of an overpass and into the path of my car down below. My last image was of apples scattered around the freeway.

I was surprised that there really was a tunnel with a light at the end of it – having never experienced death before, I didn’t know what to expect. As I sped along, I thought about everything I had done, everything I had loved or regretted, and I felt sad that it was over when so many things were about to begin. I closed my eyes in preparation of entering the blinding light in front of me.

Suddenly air filled my lungs, and I let out a scream in shock. My body was heavy, my legs and arms were completely limp and unresponsive; I couldn’t even lift my head. Some giant held me, snuggling me against itself, so I slowly opened my eyes and stared in dumbfounded amazement up at my daughter’s face. She was huge.

Or rather, I was tiny.

She was laughing and crying, with sweat on her brow and bags under her eyes. It dawned on me that she had just given birth … to me.

Freaky.

“I don’t know why, but she reminds me so much of my mom,” my daughter said, beaming down at me. “I wish she could have been here … I miss her so much!” Her happiness quickly changed to sobbing, and inwardly I nodded understandingly at the mood swings that happen so fast during those first few moments after giving birth. I wished that I could have reached out to comfort her, but all I could manage was to stare, and that felt ineffectual as well. Everything beyond her face was so blurry, I couldn’t tell who she was talking to. Her husband, I hoped, because otherwise I’d have to have a word with him.

She began to stroke my face and hair, and it was so soothing that I felt myself drift off to sleep despite my best efforts to stay awake. The last words I heard before a slipped into a deep slumber were, “Let’s name her Rebecca, after my mother.”

I had been given a second chance, with the people that I had held most dear in my previous life, and this time I wasn’t going to waste it.

On Reddit

About Writing

Endings

Autumn

I’ve reached the point where I had planned on ending the story in my current WIP, only to discover that I even kind of hate myself with how inconclusive in feels.

I realized that there needed to be a sequel about a month or so ago, which was heartbreaking because I always figured my attention span was too short to write serials (naturally, I’m saying this after I spent close to a year on a single rough draft), but the story demands more, and thus I have no choice. There will be a book two.

I figured that I could go ahead with the ending of book number one as originally planned, since it was open enough to seamlessly slide into a sequel without any problems. Now that I have it written down, I’ve realized that it’s actually a giant cliffhanger with too many incomplete threads left dangling. Wow. After all this time, how could I not realize that the ending needed to be more complete?

I need to wrap something up, even if I leave the big picture unfinished for the sequel. I just don’t know what can be conveniently closed for good.

So instead of declaring the draft finished, I’m back to the drawing board.

Ah, writing. You tricky demon.

About Writing

Sentence Length

Autumn

I’ve done some groaning on this topic recently, so I figured that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to expound a little more. So, how long should sentences be?

Despite the ubiquity of Twitter-friendly writing in contemporary literature, even Pinterest advises against putting too many short sentences in a row. Why? Because they are monotonous and difficult to read.

However, the counter advice of using varying lengths also has the potential of being misused. If you think to yourself, “I have too many long sentences in this paragraph; I’m going to throw in a short one to spice things up!” STOP AND THINK AGAIN. Longer sentences can provide plenty of variety on their own, especially if you are skilled at using less common punctuation like semicolons or dashes. Learn the intricacies of grammar instead.

Unless you are a poetry master (or giving yourself a writing challenge for the fun of it), don’t try to default to any sort of formulas for sentence length (such as, long, long, short, medium). Don’t use short sentences for the sake of having short sentences. The human brain is smart enough to naturally pick up patterns across paragraphs, and using the same one over and over will become monotonous. Unfortunately, that monotony is also the reason why it’s easy to slip into following patterns in the first place — brains are lazy.

Instead, follow this rule of thumb: The more important the idea is, the more concise the sentence should be.

For example:

He was fucked.

Versus:

He was in the unfortunate position — and he had to admit that it was entirely his fault — of finding himself in a dire situation.

The former conveys a sense of urgency and finality that the latter doesn’t possess, because the effect is softened by the use of more words. In the second sentence, we naturally expect the character to find a way out, despite his dire situation, because the urgency just isn’t there. However, there’s no arguing with the simplicity of the three words that compose the first sentence. He’s fucked, and that’s that.

Let’s do another example:

His eyes were blue, surrounded by aging skin that was creased with smile lines, which made them seem soft and friendly.

Versus:

His eyes were blue. They were surrounded by aging skin that was creased with smile lines, making them seem soft and friendly.

In the first sentence, the fact that this character’s eyes are blue matter less than the fact that they are soft and friendly, and the color might never be mentioned again. The point of this sentence is to give the reader a general idea of how this character looks.

In the second sentence, the character’s eyes are *blue*, and the reader subconsciously expects this emphasis to be important later on. Maybe they’re blue because he’s secretly an angel, or maybe someone will recognize him by his eyes after he’s been inflicted with amnesia, or something. This sort of emphasis is a subtle and effective form of foreshadowing. Cool, huh?

For the most part, read your writing out loud to hear how it sounds; you can even record yourself then play it back to get a better idea the flow. If you don’t like what you hear, fix it. Most of us read with an internal voice narrating to ourselves, and writers need to be mindful of that fact when they are plying their craft. That’s how you create something enjoyable.