You can pre-order from Smashwords here!
And for a limited time, I’m also making Book 1, A Division of Souls FREE FOR DOWNLOAD! So you get two books for the price of one!
On Writing: Unlearning the Process
I subscribe to a handful of writing magazines, many that I’ve been picking up for a good few decades. Over the years, they’ve helped me rethink how I look at my stories. Sometimes they’ll point out the blatantly obvious that I’d been ignoring for one reason or another (weak prose and word repetition for a start). Sometimes they’ll provide insight on what agents and publishers are looking for and how to contact them. It’s all helpful, and over the years their advice did help me get a lot farther than just guessing or assuming I was doing it right.
On the other hand, I’ve been quite contrarian lately, and I’m not entirely sure why.
Well, maybe I am sure; I think it has to do with self-publishing my work. Also that I’ve been a nonconformist at heart since I was a kid.
Thing is, lately I’ll read these advice articles and think, ‘well, why can’t I do it that way?’ For example, I saw an article earlier this morning regarding a novel having too much plot. I get where they’re coming from, don’t get me wrong; the example they used was bombastic and ridiculous (some litfic plot regarding way too many characters causing way too many plot twists and coincidences that even reality gave it the side-eye), and in that instance, it’s probably for the best that you back it up a bit and maybe narrow the focus. My reaction, however, was this: well, how is it that apparently readers don’t like way too much plot, and yet we love reading doorstop novels from George RR Martin, Kate Elliott, Neal Stephenson, and so on? How can I write the plot-heavy book and still make it readable and enjoyable? The kind of doorstopper that makes readers go ‘damn, that’s some great world building!’ In other words, the kind of books I love to read.
That’s when it dawned on me: it’s not that the writer of the article is stifling creativity; they’re just trying to keep your novel’s highway from gridlocking. If you’re going to write a doorstopper, just make damn sure it’s navigable.
Getting back to my bit about nonconformity, here’s an ironic admission: I’m also a pathetic conformist as well. Let’s just say that even though I touted my individuality in my high school years – sometimes to annoying extremes – and tended to question authority when needed (again, usually in the form of “well, why can’t we…?”), I also found myself desperately trying to fit into the status quo at the same time. I’m a proud self-contrarian in that respect.*
[* – A good example of my proud self-contrarianism: Yes, I am aware of the irony of using a Psykosonik song in a blog entry about writing my sf trilogy, considering that one of the band’s principal songwriters was one Ted Beale, aka Vox Day. I’m not a fan of his politics in the least, but I did love the Unlearn album when it came out in 1995, so I’m fine with keeping the two separate.]
With regards to my writing, I went through quite a few phases of trying to shape my novels into something that agents and publishers would enjoy. The truth is out: one of the reasons it took me so long to self-release the Bridgetown Trilogy is that I spent a good number of years trying to figure out how to revise it so that it was more commercially acceptable to agents and publishers. Suffice it to say, I never successfully figured out how to do it. I didn’t want to give up on the Mendaihu Universe, I just wanted to make it marketable.
I could never figure out why nobody was biting, though — and that’s the downside to the form rejection letter. No one is telling you why. I understand the reason behind the process…most agencies and publishers are actually quite small in crew and literally can’t respond personally to thousands of submissions. At the same time, though, it doesn’t help the writer one bit. It’s like being trained at your workplace for a new system, and when you’re baffled and stuck and ask for clarification, the trainer responds with “Well, what do you think it does?” My initial response to that kind of question is almost always “How the fuck should I know? That’s why I’m asking you!”** I get that they’re trying to make you think it through, but some need a frame of reference first before they can answer that question. If I’m not doing it right, I want to know how I should be doing it to your specifications. I’m a writer: asking that question of me provokes about 3,425 different responses. I have no idea which one is the right one or which would bring me success. I have nothing to base it on.***
[** – Yes, this has actually happened at one of my day jobs.]
[*** – I am aware that this is what writing groups and beta readers are for, but they’ve never quite worked for me. They’re great for talking out ideas and suggestions and I love the camaraderie, but more often than not they end up doing little more than confirming problems and issues I’ve already noticed and hadn’t yet acted upon. I’ve come to the conclusion that I just happen to work better solo and should trust my instinct more often.]
And the nonconformist in me, after so many years, finally decided that DIY seemed like a more viable and entertaining option. The time was right, the field has been quite strong, and I’d already done my research on it. This time I listened that rebel in me.
I’ve mentioned here before that music is an incredibly huge influence in my life, and I took that to heart this time out when I chose to rethink how I viewed publishing. I’ve read so many music bios about punk bands scraping by on a meager pittance and a beat up van yet absolutely loving the lifestyle; I’ve read about their wonderfully creative ways of getting their singles out to radio stations and audiences. There’s a reason why the image of a telephone pole covered with the bark of a thousand nightclub flyers is so iconic; that was punk’s social media of the time, to let all and sundry know that you were in town and were going to play at some seedy bar close by.
So this is what happened in 2015: I chose to unlearn the process of publication as I knew it. I already understood it all too well…if I want to publish commercially, I already know what steps I need to take, and I think I have a bead on how I can make my lighter stories marketable. What I had to do for my self-published work, though, was think like a nonconformist: what makes sense to me, first and foremost, and be consistent in that belief. I taught myself to react to moments of weak prose and plot. I learned to completely trust my creative instincts. I taught myself the mathematics of creativity (thanks again to music), of being aware of what makes a pleasurable work. And most importantly, I taught myself to ignore any self-doubt that popped up. I’m proud of the creative things I can do; I love writing and drawing and playing music, always have since I was a kid, so it was about damn time I followed through with those long-held dreams and make them realities.
I won’t lie…sometimes the DIY route can be daunting. It can be emotionally nerve-wracking. It can also be expensive. But I really do think unlearning the process of trying to be a commercial writer was one of the best moves I’d ever made. I’ve never been happier and more excited about being a writer.
TPoM: Cover Revealed! Coming Soon!
It’ll look a bit better when I redo it with the real non-watermarked picture I just downloaded from Shutterstock not that long ago. The picture creator is Marcel Clemens, whose collection on that website is full of lovely spacey images.
The Persistence of Memories will be released mid-April! Stay tuned for more info as we get closer to the release date! 🙂
Get the Balance Right
I’m not entirely sure how the concept of balance popped up in my trilogy, it just sort of happened naturally.
I think it’s because, when I was writing The Phoenix Effect back in the late 90s, I’d become fascinated by yin-yang relationships in life, and especially how neither side is inherently heroic or villainous. Each side has good and bad qualities, perfections and impurities. It’s up to each individual to decide how they want to act (or react) to their surroundings, or to the other’s actions. Some go with the flow, some do what’s expected of them, some are rebellious and still others refuse to do anything at all.
Originally the trilogy was going to focus mostly on the Mendaihu, with the Shenaihu relegated to textbook villain. But the more I tried writing that, the more I felt it was horribly contrived. What if the Shenaihu were doing what they do for a legitimate reason? Maybe the Mendaihu aren’t all that perfect and awesome after all? And with Earth stuck in the middle of it all, how are they affected?
It’s not just the character balance I watch for when I write, though. I pay attention to the plot arc, and where the characters’ defining moments are placed.
A day or so ago while revising/editing The Persistence of Memories I hit the exact midway point. I was curious as to what that scene would be, as I’d subconsciously put a pivotal Denni scene at that point in A Division of Souls, a point where the book is no longer ‘starting up’ and is now in full acceleration mode. It seems that I did the same exact thing here as well: another main character’s pivotal scene that sets the tone for the rest of the book (and the trilogy). I’ve yet to see if I did that with The Balance of Light, but we shall see, once I start revising/editing that one.
That’s not to say the pivotal now-or-never scene needs to be smackdab in the middle of the book; this just sort of happened organically for me. Another character’s defining moment won’t show up until near the end of TBoL, with mere chapters to go until the end. The point here is balancing the character’s evolution. They start at one level and ascend (or descend) to another, somewhere within the timeline, because otherwise they’re boring.
Point being, by the end of the trilogy, everyone, even the most stubbornly static characters, have changed somehow. The trick as to when they change is in the pacing. Don’t just think about how you want the character to change, but how they’d act afterwards. A character’s evolution too soon might render them boring for the rest of the book; too late and it looks forced. Think about their timeline within the context of the entire book (or series): what would be the perfect time for them to change, and how would it affect the rest of the plot and the other characters?
Again, with the music parallel: where would the chorus of the song fit best? After the first verse? Just after the bridge? (Or like Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin'”, waaaay over at the end of the song, after the guitar solo?) It’s completely up to you, the writer. As long as you do it right.
Make it pleasurable not only for you, but for the reader. Creating balance in your creation is a trick on the subconscious level; we feel pleased by a perfectly balanced shot in a film or painted image. We’re equally pleased by the slow build of an arc that finally explodes in glorious 3D at the perfect moment (again, think the “Don’t Stop Believin'” solo and chorus, or maybe even The Beatles’ “Hey Jude” when it finally hits the “na na na” coda).
The trick is to figure out where to best place it so you achieve the perfect balance.
I Won’t Share You
The decision to pull out of a writing project is a strange one. It’s never a knee-jerk reaction. More often than not, it’s a laborious, emotional, drawn out process. All kinds of questions arise, whether it’s worth soldiering on or cutting losses. The feeling of frustration and irritation due to wasted time. And even the relief (and the guilt of feeling such, despite the decision) when the deadline is no longer hanging over the writer.
I say this now, as I seem to be on the fence on a current long-term project at this time (don’t worry, it’s not Mendaihu Universe related). I won’t go into detail just yet, as I’m still debating on what move I’ll take, but suffice it to say, the end result is different than what I’d expected it to be. It’s starting to feel less like a publishable book and more of a private ‘vanity’ book…something that would appeal to me, but probably not to too many others. Will I finish it? I most likely will, given that I’m close to the end of the initial rough draft anyway. I just may not self-publish it.
It’s a tough decision, and one I’m not taking lightly. It’s not exactly frustrating that it may take this direction…just that it feels weird, signing off something that had potential at one point.
So, fellow writers….ever have this quandry?
Still Editing, Still Busy
Hey there, everyone! Lots of movement here in Spare Oom. The Day Job has been keeping me busy, though I’ve been sneaking a few minutes here and there to edit.
At this point, it looks like the release of The Persistence of Memories will more than likely be end of March rather than February…I do apologize for the delay, but this edit run is taking a bit longer than expected. I’m still about a quarter of the way through, but I’m making good headway. I’m giving myself a bit more of a buffer so I can do the formatting and the cover, and so I can release both the e-book and the physical version at the same time.
I’ll have more to blog about my editing processes to date, but that will be after everything is done. Yay, future blog posts! And thank you for your patience, as always! I promise, it’ll be worth the wait. This one’s still my favorite of the three.
But seriously, I’ve been taking extra steps to make sure I get all this work done on time and with minimal distraction. I’m still utilizing the habit of closing down all web browsers when I’m not using them for something important (like checking my word choice against the Merriam-Webster website). I’m even doing this during the day when I’m editing during slow moments, as you can see from the above picture. Making good on my plan to scale back on my internet usage in general has worked out just fine. I’m more productive and less distracted.* Once I post this, I’ll be closing down the browsers again.
* – Okay, I may have returned to my FreeCell playing habits, but the trade-off is worth it. A five-minute game is a lot better than a half hour of Twitter.
Oh — and if you’re curious, here’s the wallpaper I currently have. I took this out Spare Oom window with my nice camera during a rather spectacular sunset late last year.
Fly-By: Once More Unto the Breach
Oh, hey there! I’ll be scarce the next couple of weeks as I kick my own ass trying to get The Persistence of Memories out and (relatively) on time by end of month. I’m making serious headway on this last Evil Red Pen No Seriously This Is the Final Line Edit, cleaning it up so y’all will enjoy it when it’s released.
See you all soon! 🙂
The Gang’s All Here
I blame Stephen King.
Okay, actually I blame my ex from ’94 for handing me a copy of The Stand while we were working on True Faith, but the point remains: I blame Stephen King for introducing me to the Large Ensemble novel. I read a wide assortment of his novels in 1993-95, intrigued by his style and his characterizations, and it was The Stand that grabbed me the most. I’m extremely picky when it comes to stories with End of the World themes (they don’t bother me, I just have very little interest in them), but this one fascinated me, because it was such a sprawling piece of work. A doorstop. And the edition I read was the expanded version that had just been released. And I loved it. Still do…specifically that version.
I loved the idea of a large ensemble in a novel, because I was fascinated by how each character’s life intertwined with the others, even if they never met face to face. I loved the idea of each character’s unique development and evolution throughout the course of the novel. I especially like how each evolution had a specific role within the main plot, whether it was a large role or a small one.
That’s one of the reasons the Mendaihu Universe novels are always an ensemble affair. Like the purging and repopulating of the human race in The Stand, I wanted to show that the awakening and ascension of spirits in the Universe weren’t merely relegated to the main characters, but to everyone in the world. Not that future MU stories will also have a large cast; I already have some ideas focusing on a minimal number of characters that we may see down the road, and I’m quite sure I’ll have a Tales from the ARU sequence soon enough.
Writing large ensembles is tricky work, because you need to be a really good note-taker, or at least have it down really solid in your head. Switching from one POV to another is simple enough; you just need to pay attention when you do it. More often than not I kept with a single main POV character throughout an entire chapter to keep it simple — and in the process I got to play with that character’s evolution within that length of time. And on a higher level, I had to make sure the main plot kept moving. It was quite the juggling act, but it was a hell of a lot of fun.
I know a lot of people who aren’t big on ensemble casts, or doorstop novels for that matter. They prefer a slimmer cast (and a slimmer spine!) in their books. Shorter, more concise stories, ones that don’t meander or take forever. Events that affect a small group rather than the entire planet. I tend to switch between the two; one of my favorite novels is Mark Danielewski’s House of Leaves, which essentially has two main characters and about six secondary characters, and the plot mainly focuses on how the house affects the characters. And on the other hand, I also love Masashi Kishimoto’s Naruto manga, which spanned 700 chapters and has an incredible array of main, secondary and tertiary characters who all have unique personalities and play an important part in the overall plot.
I say all this because I know that some readers may find the Bridgetown Trilogy a bit long; A Division of Souls is nearly 150k words, which is quite long even for a genre novel. This made me think about playing with convention, maybe taking the opposite approach that the 1994 edition of The Stand took: what if I created an abridged version of the trilogy, and leave it up to the reader to choose which version they’d like to buy or download? I’m totally fine with taking that step, because I learned from Douglas Adams: there’s always more than one way to tell a story. I could conceivably edit out some minor characters and leave out a few scenes here and there and still have the same story.
Don’t get me wrong; it’s not that I’m refusing to listen to reason by whinging that severely edited versions of the books lead to them being less than pieces of art. Yesterday I bought a copy of one of my favorite 90s movies, Wim Wenders’ Until the End of the World. The original 1991 version Warner Bros released is around two hours long; the director’s cut, which I picked up, is 288 minutes — that’s over four and a half hours long. I get that Hollywood needed a much shorter movie. I was fascinated when I watched the first twenty minutes and noticed something: at the 20 minute mark in the Hollywood version, the main female character (Claire) meets the main male character (Trevor/Sam). In the director’s cut, they haven’t even met yet, let alone Claire getting to the destination where they meet. There are number of short establishing shots, bridging scenes, and emotional moments that are there to show how the world looks and behaves in this fictional 1999. Each version tells the story: one is crisp and concise, the other is slow and deliberate. Both work the way they’re supposed to, and both are enjoyable to watch.
And like any director’s cut of any movie, there are going to be fans and detractors. Some audiences hate long films. Others love the idea of an ‘alternate’ version of their favorite movie. This is where I started thinking: why not alternate versions of my novels? Am I willing to spend all that extra time playing around with different versions of my stories? Am I dithering in wanting it both ways? And realistically, would anyone really care either way? Well, some of those questions really don’t matter all that much in reality. I’m not looking for Hugo nominations here.* I’m not looking for scores of fans; I’m just looking for readers who’ll have fun reading my universe, whichever version they so choose.
* — Yes, as a matter of fact, A Division of Souls can be nominated for a Hugo! Go ahead and nominate if you want, I’m cool with that. 🙂
Time is Against Me Now
This always happens, damn it. I give myself a reasonable, decent timeframe to finish the line edit for The Persistence of Memories, and something comes along and says “OH HEY You need to get this done first, there’s a couple of errands you also need to do outside the house, and oh, by the way, Day Jobbery has been busier than usual, so chances of you sneaking any writing in during the day is slim to nil. Oh, and remember those blogs that you ignored all weekend because you were too busy shopping and doing housework, and watching the new X-Files episodes?”
Grumble grumble whine whine.
But you know, I’m not going to let it get to me. This has happened enough times that the most I can do is work around it. I’ve read too many blog writers and webcomic artists that have this same issue, and that’s all you can do: soldier on the best way you can. I say this, as it seems my original schedule has gone a bit wonky. I’m pushing the release of The Persistence of Memories out a few more weeks, mainly because after this line edit is done, I’m going to need to give it another surgery. It’s great as it is, but it’s still far too long at nearly 169k words. That’s actually about 15k more than A Division of Souls. The response to that book, by the way, has been quite positive, except for the words no writer really wants to hear: it’s too long. And Book 3 is even longer than Book 2, which is not a good sign at all.
But! But! It’s a piece of art! You’re supposed to savor the pace both when it’s fast and slow! Why does no one understand my genius?
Heh. Yeah, right. More like, “….Oh. Yeah. Huh. You’re right, that bit’s pretty sluggish. I should definitely speed it up.”
The thing with self-publishing is that you’re going to see it, warts and all. The original 150k version of ADoS is still out there as an e-book and a trade until I get around to re-editing that. On the one hand, as a writer, I feel like a failure because I put the book out there well before it was completely ready, and now No One Will Ever Trust Me as an Author Ever Again.
On the other hand, I can just get back on the horse, fix what needs fixing, present it again, and move on.
Whatever works, kids.
Granted, I’m also giving myself quite a lot to do in the next six months. Editing and revising books 2 and 3 in the trilogy, as well as writing Walk in Silence. My original plan for WiS was to have it released in April, but due to the trilogy editing and re-editing, work has been embarrassingly slow on it (about 2 handwritten pages a day, which really isn’t much). I’m thinking that one will end up being released during the fall semester. I’m okay with that…as long as it’s done by some point this year.
And then, maybe, finally, I’ll be able to work on new stuff. Maybe.
On Writing Longhand
I’ve been writing and editing via my PC for so long that it still feels weird to be writing new things longhand. The last major project I wrote longhand was The Phoenix Effect; the trilogy was written completely on the computer, using MS Write and MS Word. I still have the 3″ floppies containing all the early .wri files, come to think of it. I did do a lot of the world building and the brainstorming longhand, mostly on scrap paper from work (these were the Yankee Candle years), but the new words were all generated downstairs in the Belfry, tapping away on my PC.
Even later incomplete and/or trunked projects like Love Like Blood, Can’t Find My Way Home and Two Thousand and even the earlier versions of Walk in Silence were started or at least primarily written on the computer. I liked working that way for varying reasons: I could chart my daily word count and my production in general; I could edit while writing when it was clear it was needed; I could open multiple documents for reference use and note taking; and peripherally, I could keep myself amused and entertained with my mp3 collection playing in the background.
Writing on the PC can be a great thing, and I still enjoy it, but over the years I’ve realized its limitations as well. I have a penchant for distraction, whether it’s multiple games of FreeCell and Solitaire, futzing around with the tags and the arrangement of my mp3 collection, or the continued refreshing of my Twitter feed. I’ve also been hiding myself in Spare Oom far too long. And then there’s the fact that I already work from home, so I’m spending most of the day back there already, sitting on my duff for eight hours. Spare Oom may not be a man cave, but over the years it began to feel like I was using it as a hideaway from the world. It’s the one room in the apartment that has the best view (see the banner picture over at Walk in Silence), but I don’t look out that window nearly as much as I should.
Starting up my personal journal a few years back was my way of combating all this. Its original purpose was to divert my kvetching habits from social media to paper and curtail them somewhat, and it worked almost immediately. I also made it a habit to write its entries away from my desk. For the last year or so I’ve been writing in it during my midmorning break, sitting on the loveseat across the room where I can glance out the window as well. Much to my own surprise, I’ve kept it up consistently since then, skipping only weekends and vacations.
Early last year, when it was clear that I’d be wrapping up the trilogy project by year’s end, I started writing the new Mendaihu Universe story. This was the first new story I’d be starting completely longhand, in a yellow-covered 3-subject spiral notebook I picked up at Target. This too was kept up consistently until late last year when I put it aside to self-release the trilogy. Once that project is finally wrapped, I’ll be able to pick it up again. In the meantime, though, I’ve been starting new projects longhand, such as this latest version of Walk in Silence. My return to artwork and renewed dedication to weekly poetry have finally torn me away from the PC as well. In addition to that, I’ve been trying to make a concerted effort to work more often on my laptop out in the living room (where I am currently typing this) if I need to use MS Word. And yesterday afternoon during the two football playoff games I sat at the dining table, writing a few WiS pages.
I’d commented elsewhere that I don’t plan on turning myself into a Luddite writer; I just feel the need to change up the habits to keep everything fresh. I can view using the PC as a positive work process rather than a distraction or a slog. I’m not chained to it, and shouldn’t be. When I was working on the trilogy back in the early ’00s, working on the PC was something I looked forward to as an evening process, maybe even as ‘going to the office’ for my writing career, and I kept that separate from the rest of my life. Returning to longhand after so long is sort of a return to that.
I’m curious to see where it takes me next.
Welcome to Bridgetown 