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I recently enjoyed reading:
Tinker, by Wen Spencer
I'm currently reading:
Fangs and Angel Wings, by Karen E. Taylor
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LENA SAWYER
March 9, 2004
Still working on my novel, which is nealy 30,000 words in first draft. But what does that mean? Well, I have writtten the beginning scene that sets up who the main characters are. I have the scenes in which they all meet. I have several of the pivotal scenes written. I have yet perhaps two or three more major scenes, then the big explosion scene to write. And all of this in first draft. Which for me is sparse and odd, but I'll get to that later. So, with all of the above in mind, just what is the value of numbers in first draft? I certainly don't know. Let's just say posting or announcing numbers makes me feel like I'm accomplishing something.
Scenes are the action of the novel, right? Given that definition, I'm writing my first draft in scenes. I'm writing the action. Not to say that I'm not slipping in characterization and dialogue (tons of dialogue), but I'm concentrating on moving the plot forward, or around. So I approach a new scene thinking something like, "Mona runs away, Jack sends Steve after her, then follows to meet up with them, and they end up meeting Mona's family." Movement is the key: in this scene they literally move about 200 miles, and they take the steps to making Mona a regular part of their group. This was accomplished in the scene. Also accomplished was the defining of Mona as Jack's true love and lifemate, Nick's fear (which turned out not to be the thing I thought it was, but fear of a different type), a confrontation with Art, and finding out some more about the "rules" of their lifestyle. Most of this was done in narrative and dialogue. Why? Because it's first draft and it's messy; first drafts are allowed to be messy.
As an aside, get yourself to your local library, find a copy of Feburary's Boys' Life magazine, and read Justin Stanchfield's story, "Looking for Charley". Really wonderfully written.
January 23, 2004
You know, if this were one of those instant blog things, I'd keep up much better. Then again, I'd end up writing a lot of things I'd regret. Personal things do NOT belong on my journal page; no way, no how. Except... well, my cousin's daughter, who is sort of my niece (at least to me she is) had a baby! She and her husband are the proud parents of a lovely little girl who weighed in at 3 pounds 10 ounces, but is breathing on her own! My sad times are private, but this I must tell the world about! Congratulations, Shanna and Shane.
Back to the issue for which this journal was conceived (nice segue, eh?): writing. What issue is plaguing me lately? Well, the issue of world-building disease and it's near kin atmosphere-enhancing syndrome. I do not know who first coined the phrase world-building disease, but if you aren't familiar with it, it is when a fantasy (or science fiction or dark fantasy or whatever) writer gets so caught up in building the imaginary world for their characters to inhabit that they end up writing more/spending more time on world building than on plot and characters. They may have exhaustive lists of family trees, of foreign words and phrases, of styles of clothing; a case of drawings of maps; a catalog of flora and fauna; a ream of paper that is the history of their own little world. All because it makes the world come alive. The plot is still struggling along with a guy in a tavern drinking ale, but the world is well and good. Not that inventing the world is not important, but it's the out of control extent of that inventing that makes it the disease.
All right, that is world building-disease. What, then, is this atmosphere-enhancing syndrome? Ah, that now, is the same fish, different cooking vessel (I'm so good, I should be a writer). This is wherein said writer gets lost in researching things that will never make it into the text. How can you know? you ask. Well, for example, I once wrote a short story about a man in a mid-western city who became a vampire. Now it is not important what happened to him, especially as the story never saw print, but I knew what city I was imagining and at this point I could have looked at a map, figured out which neighborhood he was most likely to live in, what bus routes he was taking, where this and that would have happened, and on and on. None of which would have appeared in the story, but which could have put me more in the mood, basically enhancing my writing atmosphere or mindset.
Another example; I am a proponent of using the appropriate mood-setting music while writing, so that different works use different soundtracks, if you will. However, while working on a manuscript that involves characters in a band, I started to think (mostly while driving) about what songs would be in their playlist. I'd hear a song and try to find out the name and artist, eventually thinking I'd make a compilation CD to play while writing about this band. If this had stayed in the thinking about stages or limited itself to a thought while driving, fine. But then I started doing internet searches, playing samples of songs from webpages, checking CDs in stores and playing samples if possible. Going way overboard. In other words, this is the syndrome wherein a writer puts more effort into creating the proper mood in which to write a story than they put into writing the story.
Basically, the symptoms of these two afflictions differ, but the result is the same: the story does not get written. The reasons for succumbing to these maladies are as varied as plots. If after your first draft, you realize your research was inadequate, put sticky notes (or some equivalent) on the pages in the questionable areas and go find out what you need to. Notice I did say "if your research was inadequate". I'm not advocating going into a writing project without doing the proper research, just saying don't let yourself get so caught up that the research over shadows your story. My musicians need to have the proper equipment, but I don't need to know how to use a sound board. I do need to know whether or not they'd have one, and how much time they'd spend with it, but how to adjust it isn't something my POV character would do or spend time studying, so neither will I. If you write a story with a character who is a mountain climber, you don't have to climb a mountain or read every book on mountaineering. I would suggest you read a few and talk to someone who has done it. If you read a few first, then you will have questions in your mind that you can ask your new friend the mountaineer. That is just good research. However, adding a dozen books on mountains to your library may indicate you have a problem. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. First, stop. Just put down the book, the map, close the website. Then, to paraphrase Karen Taylor, put your backside in a chair and write. Just write.
And I'm trying.
Hello, my name is Lena and I have an affliction that affects many writers today. But I have hope.
October 30, 2003
After an extended break, here I am again. Various life events have kept me from so many things, but finally I feel the time is right to pick up this journal once again.
I've been working on another novel. This makes my fourth. My first try at a novel was a sword and sorcery novel. I finished it, but it was a mess. A learning experience. Yeah, that sounds so much better. My second novel attempt was a mystery. I finished that one as well, but it was depressing and called boring by the few first readers I could snag. That third novel is yet unfinished, but is a vampire story. As that novel was never meant to see a reader, I'm not at all broken up over it not being completed. It's more like an exercise than a serious novel, though sometimes I wonder. This latest novel is also a dark fantasy, but it is werewolves. I won't call it horror because while there may be the occasional brutal scene, that isn't what it is about: this novel is about the characters who inhabit it. They live, they breathe, and yeah, they sometimes get furry, but it's their lives I'm concentrating on, not the reactions of humans to them.
Which brings me to a point. Can horror be said to be about the reaction to something rather than about the thing itself? Possibly. Horror, really scary stuff, for me, often has most to do with my anticipation of something coming. How scary can things be? Especially today, when we laugh at movie monsters that would have given heart attacks to our grandparents, the "it" just isn't what scares. It's the anticipation of the "it", the worrying about that encounter occurring, that keeps me on the edge of my seat. And I'm not talking about the cheap stuff, the guy in the mask jumping out at you when you are only expecting the cat. No, that's just a cheat. That's a slasher movie. That's over as soon as you punch the guy for doing such a jerky thing. Real horror makes you afraid to turn the light off at night, afraid to leave your feet on the floor at the side of the bed, because you anticipate something happening. At least I do. And even in my middle age, I'm still afraid of the dark.
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