Creating Rules of Magic

madoka magica homura
Source: Puella Magi Madoka Magica

One of my favorite things so far in writing In My Blue World has been creating the rules of magic in this universe.  It’s very similar to the process I used when I wrote the trilogy, and it asked the following questions:

  1. What kind of magic do I want my characters to use?
  2. Why would they use it?
  3. What are the limits of its use?

Sounds simple, yes?  But the trick here was to remember: every use of magic must have its reason, and it must have its balance.  In the trilogy, every time Denni used some kind of psychic force, she had to do it for a reason (usually to protect others), and it had its balancing effect (Saisshalé would respond in kind).  This was to show that there was always a price to pay for their actions.

For In My Blue World, I essentially follow the same rules: Zuzannah (aka Zuze) comes from a universe where magic is a natural occurrence and is used in everyday life.  What kind of magic do I want her to use?  She uses this magic energy equally as a creative and destructive force; one of her abilities is to make ‘a tear in the weave’ of the multiple universes so she can jump between them, but for every tear, she must also ‘reweave’ it.  Why would she use it?  She uses it to temporarily escape from a stronger foe.  She also uses it to return and face him once more, when she is more prepared.  What are the limits of its use for her?  Weave-tearing is an extremely rare ability and uses up a hell of a lot of power in the process.  She only uses it when absolutely necessary.  The level and process of magic she’d used in her initial escape was so high and unfocused that it rendered her unconscious for two days.

Using these rules helps me focus on how the plot should unfold.  When she’s in the reality of our other characters, her magic is still there but it works differently.  When she returns to her own universe, her original powers return.  The other characters are also given the same rules: they are introduced to this magic as well, but with their own costs specific to them.

This is why I say that this kind of worldbuilding is often my favorite part of writing a novel.  It’s not just about coming up with neat ideas that I can play around with throughout the novel — though that is a major plus and a hell of a lot of fun — it’s about laying the groundwork for how everything works.  It’s a balance in and of itself, and quite often it suggests more of the plot than you initially expect.

The Choice Not to Write Longhand

watson typing
No, really, I type fast.  I just don’t know what to write at the moment.  Honest!

Speaking of calling it, I’m putting an end to my ongoing test of whether or not I can write a novel longhand.  It just doesn’t seem to be working out the way I’d like.  I’ve tried it with at least three projects over the past couple of years, and if I’ve learned anything, it’s this:

I write longhand much slower than I type.

I haven’t tested my typing speed, but I know it’s at least 70 wpm, if not faster.  [This doesn’t include my frequent misspellings; apparently the word “available” is the hardest one for me to type fast.  Thanks to my Day Job for pointing that out.]  I’ve never written longhand fast, because if I went any quicker it would be illegible shorthand.

I judge the pace of my novels as I write them.  When I get into a writing flow, I connect with the pace of the story.  I connect with the fast action scenes and the deliberately slow dramatic scenes.  I’ve written novels on the PC for almost twenty years now, so I’ve gotten used to this process.  And because I write longhand so much slower, I have trouble adjusting to the flow of the story.  I’ve attempted this multiple times with a handful of projects, and each time it’s lasted maybe a few months before I give up and restart the whole thing on MS Word.

I’ve been thinking maybe this might be one of the reasons why I’ve been having so much trouble with the Apartment Complex story, and why I’ve been having no trouble at all with In My Blue World.  I started noticing it again when restarted Can’t Find My Way Home the other night.  I was frustrated and straining trying to write it in my notebook, but as soon as I restarted it on Word, everything started flowing seamlessly.

So.  Does this mean I’ll give up longhand?  For novel projects, yes.  I’m still using it for my personal journal and other mini-projects, but for now, my novel writing will remain on the PC or on the laptop.

Refining My Reading

book-reading-words-flying-by-animated-gif

I’ve been putting a lot more books in my Did Not Finish pile on GoodReads lately, and to be honest, I’m not feeling too worried about it.  It’s not that the books are bad (though there have been a few), it’s more that they’re just not my thing.

I’ve found that for me, one of the most common reasons for not finishing a novel is that trying to get through it is a chore.  They’re either far too verbose, far too infodumpy, or just in a really irritating style.  There are also the Everything/Everyone Is Horrible novels that I really don’t have time for in my life right now.

When I was a teenager it used to irritate me that I would lose interest in a book.  Granted, a good handful of the assigned reading when I was in high school was dry as a bone (George Eliot’s Silas Marner remains one of my least favorite books for its desert-level dryness); others were Written to Make a Point (like William Golding’s Lord of the Flies, which dropped metaphors on you like Acme™ anvils).  Both are my least favorite styles of writing.  It actually put me off reading for entertainment for quite some time.

Yes, this, coming from a writer, right?  This is why I focused more on storytelling in different mediums, like comics, movies and television.  It wasn’t until I was in my late 20s that I figured it was time to actually read novels for entertainment again.  Once I got back into the swing of it, my personal library expanded exponentially.

Thing is, I found that I was trying to read everything, whether it was enjoyable or not.  There were very few books that I wrote off as DNF; I kept a hold of them for years, trying to read them again at a later time.

Nowadays I go by my book ownership rules:

  1. If I just bought it new, it needs to be read within the year.
  2. If I’ve bought it but haven’t started reading it in over a year, I push it to the top of my To Be Read queue.  If I don’t think I’ll get to it anytime soon, however, it goes to the donation pile.
  3. If I’ve owned it for ages and enjoyed it in the past but don’t think I’ll be reading it again, it goes in the donation pile.
  4. If I’ve gotten a quarter of the way in and it’s just not doing anything for me, or if it’s more irritating than enjoyable, it’s not worth finishing. [Note: This is not to say I toss books at the slightest irritation.  It takes a lot for me to give up on a book, so I give it a serious go before giving up.]

I donate the books to the Friends of the SF Public Library at their book store over in Fort Mason.  I’m totally fine with not making any money back, because these end up getting sold at their store or at their Big Honkin’ Book Sale they have a few times a year.  I might not have liked the book, but hey, someone else might!

I’ve found that sticking to these four rules works out really well, as it helps me get through my towering To Be Read pile quickly. Time’s too short to force myself through novels that are more of a chore than a joy.  Plus it leaves me more time to check out new writers!

Back Burner Projects vs Trunked Novels

shikamaru sigh
What a drag.

As mentioned on Wednesday, the Apartment Complex project (and by extension, the College Campus story, as they’re both in the same universe) have been put on the back burner.  Not trunked, just put aside for now.  I’ll get back to them sooner or later.

So, what’s the difference between trunking a project and putting it on hiatus?  Well, for me, anyway, trunking is when I’ve all but made my peace with it and given up.  It can be for any reason, really: loss of interest, failure to find any kind of strong plot, or growing dissatisfaction with the project overall.  I’m okay with those outtakes doing little more than just taking up space on the bookshelf next to my desk.  Every now and again I’ll think about them, but I won’t do any more writing on it.

But what about putting projects on the back burner?  There’s many reasons for that as well.  I don’t want to give up on them, not just yet.  They still show promise, they just need a hell of a lot more work than I’ve given them.  More often than not I put them on hiatus because I’m stuck.  I did this with The Balance of Light, and I’ve done it with a few other projects as well.  I need to distance myself from the project for a bit so I can get a clearer head.  Maybe I’m diving far too deep into the project and I’ve lost direction.

Or worse, maybe it’s that I’ve got some really cool ideas for it, with a lot of nothing in between.  That’s the main problem with the AC project.

How does one make this decision, whether to put it aside or to put it away?

I suppose it’s different for every writer.  Personally, if every moment feels more like a chore and I’ve lost all excitement about it, chances are I should trunk it.  I’ve trunked stories that at one time I really wanted to write, but the spark just isn’t there anymore.

On the other hand, if every moment feels like a chore but I still think the idea is worth working on, I’ll put it aside.  I’ve found over the years that these projects fall into one of two columns: either A) I just don’t have the emotional and/or intellectual energy to dedicate to it, or B) The story is far from coherent in my head.  The Balance of Light was in column A, while AC is in column B.

If I’m at either point, it’s best for me to back away and get my shit together.

Either way, it’s moved to the ‘Backburner’ subfolder on my PC.  I’ll get back to it soon enough.  Sometimes it’ll take a few months, sometimes it’ll take years.

But I’ll get back to them.

 

shikamaru temari
When A. stops by and slaps some sense into me.

On Calling It

naruto shikamaru facepalm
I feel your pain, Shikamaru.  I really do.

It’s 8:21pm on Tuesday the 17th, and I’m officially calling it:  The Apartment Complex story is on hiatus.  On the back burner.  Put aside for a bit.

It’s been three and a half months of thinking I could write the damn thing.  I’ll get some really good work done, and it’ll work for about two weeks, and then it’ll crash and burn.  Each and every damn time.

It’s not that it’s a story I can’t write.  It’s definitely not that I don’t enjoy the story.

It’s that it’s not yet ready to be written.  There are still far too many gaping holes in it.  I don’t quite know what it needs, and just throwing more words at it isn’t helping.  Nor is trying to restart it again and again.  And trying to make myself believe it’s just a rough patch definitely isn’t helping.

I’ve decided, it’s time to call it.  It’s at the point where I’m just wasting my time now.

So.  Now what?

As it happens, I’m actually doing just fine with In My Blue World, so I’m going to continue with that as my 750Words project.  I’m really enjoying writing that one and I’m having minimal issues with it so far.  I’m glad I started that one, because that one’s saving me from feeling the “OH GOD I SUCK” that every writer gets.

Which gives me the evening writing session to do…what project?

Good question.  I’ll have to think about that.

At least I’m finally starting to go through my spiral-bound notebooks that have been collecting dust.

dbz midle finger
TAKE THAT, AGGRAVATING WRITING PROJECT!

 

 

My daily writing process, told in anime gifs

Trying to think through the scene I’m about to write:

anime-thinking-sasuke

What the inside of my head looks like at that very moment:

naruto screaming

What I probably look like at the same time when A. walks into Spare Oom to see what I’m up to:

anime blank eyes

When I suddenly decide maybe I need some brain food if I’m going to get anywhere:

spike spiegel eating

Post-snack, back to thinking about what I should be writing:

anime thinking smoke ears

SUDDENLY: An idea emerges!

fullmetal idea

And now I write.

umaru-kawaii

That moment when A. decides to come in and check up on me again:

anime blink blink

Kicking ass and banging that scene into shape:

anime ergo proxy

Getting into the groove and hitting a damn fine word count:

naruto killer bee

Almost forgetting to save my work. ALMOST.:

anime shocked

Realizing I’ve been working for an hour and a half straight with no break:

tired panda

Calling it a day, heading to bed:
anime-tired

Breakthrough!

doctor who brilliant

On Tuesday evening I finally had a breakthrough with the Apartment Complex story!

Two, to be exact!  One, I have a title for it!  Though I’m not sharing it just yet… it’s a special word in the conlang of this story that means ‘bonded friend’ and ties in with the main theme of the story.  I’m going to play around with it, tweak the spelling and the pronunciation, double-check it with Google Translate to make sure it isn’t a word in another language, and reveal it when it’s ready.

Secondly, on the same evening, I finally sussed out what style the story needs.  That had been the main hang-up all this time; I knew I was doing it wrong, but it took me multiple tries to figure out which style was right for it.  And ironically, it’s the same style I used in the trilogy — rich in texture, world-building and characterization.  It’s definitely an ensemble piece; given the theme, it kind of has to be.  SO!  Now that I know how to write this damn thing, I can forge ahead!

I have to say, I do love it when I get those breakthrough moments.  Getting to that point can be the biggest pain in the ass ever, but once I hit that moment, it’s worth all that hard work.

Changes of Influence

makoto shinkai tgow
Source, Makoto Shinkai’s The Garden of Words

The other day I was thinking about how my writing influences have changed over the years.  My current influences — the works of Makoto Shinkai, the novels of Haruki Murakami, numerous YA authors like Rachel Hartman, Susan Dennard and AM Dellamonica, and genre authors like Yoon Ha Lee, Ann Leckie and Becky Chambers — are quite different from the influences I had about twenty years ago when I was first writing the trilogy.

In addition to that, some of my old influences don’t seem to inspire me all that much anymore.  I find that particularly interesting.  It’s not to say their works haven’t stood the test of time; it’s more that what amazed me about them doesn’t seem to catch my eye now.  I’ve moved on to other styles and stories.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s partly due to the way time moves on.  What was breathtaking to me then seems a bit old hat now.  It could be caused by oversaturation — after all, Hollywood is certainly known for making a eight hundred different flavors of the same Explodey Action Film, right?  Or it could be overindulgence — I stopped reading dark fantasy and cyberpunk a long time ago when it just didn’t excite me anymore.

But there’s always that one thing, the make-you-stop-in-your-tracks book or film that changes the game completely.  The Matrix is definitely one good example.  Your Name is another one (for me anyway).  Becky Chambers’ The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet and Ann Leckie’s Ancillary trilogy are also very good examples.

That seems to be the only constant for me over all these years; the books and films that don’t just blow me away but make me rethink my own writing processes.  These are stories that are told, maybe not from a fresh or unique perspective, but are so different from the status quo, that it reminds me: you don’t have to play by the rules, you know.  They’re stories, like Your Name, that are so intricately woven with life (yet done so unobtrusively) that I’m emotionally and spiritually moved by the level of detail put into the work.

This constant is what influences my writing the most.

And the amazing thing about all of this is that, maybe five or so years from now, my influences will have evolved even more by something that hasn’t even been written or filmed yet.  Something will pop up that will make me rethink the whole game all over again.

I have to admit, I’m looking forward to that.

Instinct

dareka no manazashi
Source: Dareka no Manazashi by Makoto Shinkai

Meanwhile, the Apartment Complex story is slowly — finally — taking shape.  I’m trying not to give away too much, for fear that it’ll blow up in my face once more, but I’m feeling a little more hopeful this time.

Instinct is something that doesn’t get talked about when we talk about writing, except maybe in a clinical sense.  We talk about rules that we follow and rules we break.  We talk about inspiration.  We talk about styles, processes, all kinds of things.  But we don’t always hear about the instinct of a writer.

For me, it’s a very large part of how I create a story, to know if it feels right to me.  It’s more than just looking at a rough, just-written passage and feeling the frustration of how horrible it reads.  It’s more than keeping to the notes of future plot points written on my index cards (or in my head).  It’s more than knowing if I’m following the rules, mine or others’.

Regarding the Apartment Complex story, my continued frustration with the previous versions was that instinct kept telling me: this is not the way the story is supposed to go.  It was telling me: this is not the story you want to tell.  The prose was weak and the plot was forced, sure.  But instinct kept telling me I was going in the wrong direction.

With many of my projects, it’s instinct that tells me whether a possible plot point is worth it or just filler.  This is how I edit my own work, to some degree.  During the Great Trilogy Revision, I relied on instinct almost exclusively; I knew the story inside and out, so I could tell what was weak and need to be excised.  There are numerous scenes — many of them in The Balance of Light — that were cut for precisely this reason.  It just didn’t feel right to me.  In the context of the rest of the story, if it felt like a weak point, or a useless ramble, out it went.  But I was also putting the trilogy in the context of an extremely long single novel; I had to rely on instinct that what I was editing and revising in Book 3 connected on a deeper level to the other two books, and the entire story as a whole.

It’s not a magical thing, instinct.  But it’s something I’ve relied upon quite a bit over the years with my writing.  I connect myself to my writing on a level where I try to understand its spirit, if that makes sense.  Or perhaps it’s like music, my other obsession.  I understand the melody and where it’s going, anticipating its flourishes and quietness, connecting with its tempo and its ambiance.  And I try to sculpt the story into what I hear within me, waiting to come out.

It definitely took me years to learn this, but it’s never let me down once I did.

Wait, it’s April already?

nichijou calendar
What the year feels like sometimes.  Source: Nichijou, of course.

I think I’ve trained myself to the point where I’m not looking at a calendar and going ‘Wait, it’s April already?  I haven’t done jack!  MY LIFE SUCKS’ anymore.  Well, not as often, anyway.  Right now I just look at every new month as a way to start off fresh with my whiteboard schedule and see how far I can go with it.  I don’t even feel bad when I miss a day for whatever reason (even if that reason is ‘laziness’).  I just do what I can in thirty-odd day increments.

Typing this made me think of something I’d said during a panel at FogCon a few weeks ago, when someone had asked about the ability to get anything done when one already has a full schedule.  I’d told them about my whiteboard calendar, telling them that it’s not a matter of getting everything completed in one go; it was a matter of doing doing a little bit at a time, and that would add up.  Don’t aim for the finish line every single time…sometimes all you need to do is aim for the end of the chapter, or maybe even a few hundred words.  It does indeed add up by the end of it.  That’s how I was able to write 80k words for Meet the Lidwells in such a short amount of time.

I will fall back into the occasional ‘I’m not even close to getting any shit done’ stress-out, of course.  I’ve been fighting it a lot lately, what with my multiple attempts at trying to write/rewrite/restart the Apartment Complex story.  It’s partly why I’m trying out a rough draft of In My Blue World using 750Words; I’m tricking my brain into thinking that I’m being twice as productive instead of spending all that time freaking out over a single project.  [I’m actually kind of surprised it’s working, to be honest.]

So yeah, I’m not too worried that it’s April already.  In fact, I’ve embraced it — it’s getting warmer here in the Bay Area to the point where I have the window open in Spare Oom to let some fresh air in.  It’s also given me the impetus to get my writing work done early so I can get back into the habit of going to the gym after the Day Job!

It’s just a matter of taking it a bit at a time, apparently.  Or in this case, a month at a time.