No writing, no blogging. Falling down on the resolution already and January isn't over yet.
Sure, I'm taking a six-week Grub Street class (Monsters & Mayhem, team-taught by KL Pereira and Sue Williams) and it's inspiring and all that, but... but...
I'm tired this week. Get out the tiny violins, but it's true. I'm tired and my brain hurts from my day job. So I haven't done any writing since Monday.
How does the Three Doors Down song go?
You're getting closer
To pushing me off of life's little edge
'Cause I'm a loser
And sooner or later you know I'll be dead
Hmmm, that's pretty depressing.
And J.D.Salinger died today.
Hey, I'm blogging now, at least. That was the deal, that counts. And the weekend's coming up, with plenty of writing time available. My writing life can still be redeemed.
Assuming I'm still alive, tomorrow is another day.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Rough Day at Work?
I know I've had one.
And I'll admit, I was just about to bag the New Year's resolution for today and not write, do any kind of writing-related activity, go out for the evening, or even update this blog because I was, and am, tired. Tired from a mentally, although certainly not physically, exhausting day.
Then I remembered some other working stiffs, who've likely had their share of rough days, too.
Vyvyane Loh, who I heard speak at last year's Muse and the Marketplace conference, wrote her first novel Breaking the Tongue while in med school (and working, and getting an MFA, but med school is enough by itself, don't you think)?
Katrina Firlik, who wrote Another Day in the Frontal Lobe about her work as a freakin' brain surgeon.
And it's not just the doctors. Anthony Bourdain, pounding out his satirical thriller A Bone in the Throat while slinging hash. Roberth Grisham, working lawyer. And pretty much everybody else who didn't write their first book or story while in college or on unemployment, come to think of it.
You work because you don't get paid to do this stuff, at least not the first time around.
It's only 9:20. I still should be able to get at least half an hour in tonight.
Time to get to work.
And I'll admit, I was just about to bag the New Year's resolution for today and not write, do any kind of writing-related activity, go out for the evening, or even update this blog because I was, and am, tired. Tired from a mentally, although certainly not physically, exhausting day.
Then I remembered some other working stiffs, who've likely had their share of rough days, too.
Vyvyane Loh, who I heard speak at last year's Muse and the Marketplace conference, wrote her first novel Breaking the Tongue while in med school (and working, and getting an MFA, but med school is enough by itself, don't you think)?
Katrina Firlik, who wrote Another Day in the Frontal Lobe about her work as a freakin' brain surgeon.
And it's not just the doctors. Anthony Bourdain, pounding out his satirical thriller A Bone in the Throat while slinging hash. Roberth Grisham, working lawyer. And pretty much everybody else who didn't write their first book or story while in college or on unemployment, come to think of it.
You work because you don't get paid to do this stuff, at least not the first time around.
It's only 9:20. I still should be able to get at least half an hour in tonight.
Time to get to work.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Submitting to the Higher Powers
...said powers being, of course, editors.
This evening I did a little clean-up writing, but most of my working time today was spent on the 'business' side of writing, which primarily means getting previously-completed pieces out the door and then updating my submissions log. (I use Excel, although I've also used and have been quite happy with the submissions tracker provided free on Duotrope's Digest.)
My advice for those starting out on the submissions route? Well, first off, congratulations for getting this far and looking for places to submit. Too many good writers I've met in workshops never take that first step to actually being published, which will always involve the writer putting that envelope in the mail, or perhaps emailing or uploading a.doc to a journal's Submission Manager. Nobody's going to come to your door and ask to see your work -- assuming you haven't been making violent threats to national politicians (not recommended).
Before doing that, however, read the journal's submission guidelines. Really. Read the guidelines, top to bottom. NOW FOLLOW THEM. If they're not accepting stories from March to August, don't submit in July thinking you're going to get a jump on the competition. If they don't accept stories over 9,000 words, don't send them your 9,357 word story, no matter how great a fit you think it is for them. (Try editing it down to 8,500 words or so, instead.) Not following the guidelines gives the first reader a great excuse to not read your story at all; and with hundreds of submissions clogging up their in-box, that's going to be all the excuse they need.
And while you're checking out the guidelines, if you don't already read the journal you're looking to be published in, read any fiction they happen to have up on their website. Happy fluffy bunny stories aren't going to hop onto the page at Chiaroscuro, and a quick perusal of what's published there would tell you that. (Unless your fluffy bunnies are very, very scary.)
Then, write a cover letter / email and send it with your piece. Address it to the fiction editor's name. Keep it short. Don't tell them the meaning of your story; the work should speak for itself. Do tell them about any relevant publications you have, if any, and let them know that you'd be honored to appear in their publication.
And you know, you will be, when it finally happens.
But always be prepared for rejection. Rejections, plural. Lots of them. Rejections after months, possibly a year or more, of not hearing anything at all. It's going to happen. Get used to it.
You're not going to hit a home run every at bat, and more often than not you're going to strike out. Don't let one pitch take you out of the lineup. For every rejection you get, send out two more submissions.
And keep writing new stuff.
This evening I did a little clean-up writing, but most of my working time today was spent on the 'business' side of writing, which primarily means getting previously-completed pieces out the door and then updating my submissions log. (I use Excel, although I've also used and have been quite happy with the submissions tracker provided free on Duotrope's Digest.)
My advice for those starting out on the submissions route? Well, first off, congratulations for getting this far and looking for places to submit. Too many good writers I've met in workshops never take that first step to actually being published, which will always involve the writer putting that envelope in the mail, or perhaps emailing or uploading a.doc to a journal's Submission Manager. Nobody's going to come to your door and ask to see your work -- assuming you haven't been making violent threats to national politicians (not recommended).
Before doing that, however, read the journal's submission guidelines. Really. Read the guidelines, top to bottom. NOW FOLLOW THEM. If they're not accepting stories from March to August, don't submit in July thinking you're going to get a jump on the competition. If they don't accept stories over 9,000 words, don't send them your 9,357 word story, no matter how great a fit you think it is for them. (Try editing it down to 8,500 words or so, instead.) Not following the guidelines gives the first reader a great excuse to not read your story at all; and with hundreds of submissions clogging up their in-box, that's going to be all the excuse they need.
And while you're checking out the guidelines, if you don't already read the journal you're looking to be published in, read any fiction they happen to have up on their website. Happy fluffy bunny stories aren't going to hop onto the page at Chiaroscuro, and a quick perusal of what's published there would tell you that. (Unless your fluffy bunnies are very, very scary.)
Then, write a cover letter / email and send it with your piece. Address it to the fiction editor's name. Keep it short. Don't tell them the meaning of your story; the work should speak for itself. Do tell them about any relevant publications you have, if any, and let them know that you'd be honored to appear in their publication.
And you know, you will be, when it finally happens.
But always be prepared for rejection. Rejections, plural. Lots of them. Rejections after months, possibly a year or more, of not hearing anything at all. It's going to happen. Get used to it.
You're not going to hit a home run every at bat, and more often than not you're going to strike out. Don't let one pitch take you out of the lineup. For every rejection you get, send out two more submissions.
And keep writing new stuff.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Writing in Fits, and Starts that Don't Fit
It was back to the blank sheet yesterday for yet another false start -- a clichéd bad start, in fact, a story that began with the main character waking up. (Which I didn't even recognize as a classic example of how NOT to start a story until I'd wasted half an hour on it.)
Today, I resumed a previous story that I began some six months or so ago and abandoned for some forgotten reason. Laziness, most likely. This one, at least, starts not with a waking whimper but with a bang -- a deadly bus crash, in fact. And dialogue. And a theft.
Promises, promises.
During my Junior High School career, back at the dawn of the computer age, teachers were able to add comments alongside the student's printed-out grades, but they had to choose them from a pre-programmed list. The comment I hated the most (and, of course, therefore received most frequently) was the damning "DOES NOT WORK UP TO POTENTIAL."
Re-reading and now adding to this current piece, I'm impressed with the potential of the story. (Who wrote this? He must be a genius.). Now it's time that I do, or do not, hold up the WORK end of the stick.
Later, that is.
Today, I resumed a previous story that I began some six months or so ago and abandoned for some forgotten reason. Laziness, most likely. This one, at least, starts not with a waking whimper but with a bang -- a deadly bus crash, in fact. And dialogue. And a theft.
Promises, promises.
During my Junior High School career, back at the dawn of the computer age, teachers were able to add comments alongside the student's printed-out grades, but they had to choose them from a pre-programmed list. The comment I hated the most (and, of course, therefore received most frequently) was the damning "DOES NOT WORK UP TO POTENTIAL."
Re-reading and now adding to this current piece, I'm impressed with the potential of the story. (Who wrote this? He must be a genius.). Now it's time that I do, or do not, hold up the WORK end of the stick.
Later, that is.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
What Happens After the First Draft?
...you ask the bartender for a second. Sorry, old joke.
A couple of days ago I finished the first draft-and-a-half of the current story, and I've been into the revision process since then.
The second draft / first rewrite, when you're still flush with excitement from actually finishing something, might be my favorite part of the writing process. In the second draft I usually spend a lot of time reworking the beginning, particularly the first two or three pages of the piece. In part this is because the beginning isn't as fresh in my mind as the second half at this point, so I can be a little more dispassionate about it. But more importantly, it's because after finishing the first draft I'm supposed to understand what the story is about, and knowing how and why the story ends as it does means some of the bits and pieces from the beginning have to change or even be jettisoned in order to tie the whole piece together tighter.
This particular story, I knew much earlier than usual what it was going to be 'about' -- and although the ending did end up surprising me, this time the beginning didn't require much in the way of surgery. More spackle and grout than demolition, to mix metaphors.
So the second draft for me is all about making sure the revealed story is now present throughout the piece. The third draft, what I mentally call the first edit, is much more painful. That's when I focus in on individual sentences and words, looking for repetition, flaccid language, weak imagery -- and doing something about it.
The fourth draft? Hasn't occurred yet. That's something that will happen after I put the piece away for a while to get some mental distance, or after my writing group has had a go at critiquing it, and often both. Our group's next meeting is Friday, so I've emailed the latest version off to my comrades-in-ink.
This means that for tomorrow’s writing session, I’ll be back to a blank canvas. Shudder. Maybe instead I'll go back and rewrite this blog posting. Or submit something. Talk about barking at my shadow...
A couple of days ago I finished the first draft-and-a-half of the current story, and I've been into the revision process since then.
The second draft / first rewrite, when you're still flush with excitement from actually finishing something, might be my favorite part of the writing process. In the second draft I usually spend a lot of time reworking the beginning, particularly the first two or three pages of the piece. In part this is because the beginning isn't as fresh in my mind as the second half at this point, so I can be a little more dispassionate about it. But more importantly, it's because after finishing the first draft I'm supposed to understand what the story is about, and knowing how and why the story ends as it does means some of the bits and pieces from the beginning have to change or even be jettisoned in order to tie the whole piece together tighter.
This particular story, I knew much earlier than usual what it was going to be 'about' -- and although the ending did end up surprising me, this time the beginning didn't require much in the way of surgery. More spackle and grout than demolition, to mix metaphors.
So the second draft for me is all about making sure the revealed story is now present throughout the piece. The third draft, what I mentally call the first edit, is much more painful. That's when I focus in on individual sentences and words, looking for repetition, flaccid language, weak imagery -- and doing something about it.
The fourth draft? Hasn't occurred yet. That's something that will happen after I put the piece away for a while to get some mental distance, or after my writing group has had a go at critiquing it, and often both. Our group's next meeting is Friday, so I've emailed the latest version off to my comrades-in-ink.
This means that for tomorrow’s writing session, I’ll be back to a blank canvas. Shudder. Maybe instead I'll go back and rewrite this blog posting. Or submit something. Talk about barking at my shadow...
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Sex and the Married Writer
Still going strong with the current piece, now into the home stretch on the first draft. (Well, draft and a half. Although I'm trying to break myself of the habit, I do some rewriting every time I open up the doc.) I think I know how it ends, although I still could surprise myself. It looks like its going to be a rather short (2,000 - 3,000 words) short story, but definitely longer than a flash fiction piece. Not the best length for submission purposes, but it is, as the kids say, what it is.
It also includes a sex scene, and, oh yeah, another sex scene. In fact it's pretty much all about sex. And drugs. And alcohol. But mostly it's about death. I guess I can pretty much forget about being anthologized in the next 'Chicken Soup for the Soul' collection.
Thank goodness I attended Steve Almond's session on writing about sex at last year's Muse and the Marketplace. A couple of things he said -- and I'm paraphrasing here, sorry about that Steve -- stuck with me: 1) writing sex should be all about what's going on in the character's head, not what's going on in their bodies, unless you happen to be writing porn, and 2) if you're doing a good job writing about sex, you're probably going to be embarassed about doing it.
I guess I'm doing it right.
It also includes a sex scene, and, oh yeah, another sex scene. In fact it's pretty much all about sex. And drugs. And alcohol. But mostly it's about death. I guess I can pretty much forget about being anthologized in the next 'Chicken Soup for the Soul' collection.
Thank goodness I attended Steve Almond's session on writing about sex at last year's Muse and the Marketplace. A couple of things he said -- and I'm paraphrasing here, sorry about that Steve -- stuck with me: 1) writing sex should be all about what's going on in the character's head, not what's going on in their bodies, unless you happen to be writing porn, and 2) if you're doing a good job writing about sex, you're probably going to be embarassed about doing it.
I guess I'm doing it right.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Writing After Hours
Back to work, and by that I mean paying work (i.e. not writing), for the first time this year. Even though I was working from home today, I was indeed working, and that meant that today's writing time came out of evening family and relaxation time (as does this blogging, now that I think about it).
I'm still going, though. Another forty-five minutes, another page down, and I've moved the characters into what is likely to be the location of the story's end (although I'm not at the final scene -- at least one, maybe more, flashbacks are begging to be written first). Writing in short bursts is working for me.
Although like every working writer I daydream about being able to do nothing but write all day, realistically I think that a full-time writing life would be more exhausting than any job that doesn't require you to be on your feet swinging a twenty pound sledghammer for eight hours.
Sue Williams, I don't know how you do it. I'm off to family / relaxation time.
I'm still going, though. Another forty-five minutes, another page down, and I've moved the characters into what is likely to be the location of the story's end (although I'm not at the final scene -- at least one, maybe more, flashbacks are begging to be written first). Writing in short bursts is working for me.
Although like every working writer I daydream about being able to do nothing but write all day, realistically I think that a full-time writing life would be more exhausting than any job that doesn't require you to be on your feet swinging a twenty pound sledghammer for eight hours.
Sue Williams, I don't know how you do it. I'm off to family / relaxation time.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Writing Under the Influence
...Under the influence of ideas, that is. An idea caught spark yesterday, and this afternoon I was able to burn through the first two pages of what looks to be a relatively long story with plenty of momentum left for tomorrow. This evening, however, I am enjoying a glass of Shiraz and, not coincidentally, thinking about the 'writer's curse,' a.k.a alcoholism.
I've not seen any hard facts that writers suffer more from alcoholism or other addictions than the general public, but it wouldn't surprise me if they did. Prone to other obsessive behaviors? Check. Desiring to break down their inhibitions? Check. Curious about altered states of consciousness? Check.
Unusually early for me, I already know the major theme of my current story. It happens to be addiction. This knowledge might not be a good thing. A 'theme' that surfaces too early can sink the story before its written, if you start bending the narrative to fit. I'll have to try and be on the lookout for that.
Time for a refill, and a little more reflection on the subject before going to bed.
I've not seen any hard facts that writers suffer more from alcoholism or other addictions than the general public, but it wouldn't surprise me if they did. Prone to other obsessive behaviors? Check. Desiring to break down their inhibitions? Check. Curious about altered states of consciousness? Check.
Unusually early for me, I already know the major theme of my current story. It happens to be addiction. This knowledge might not be a good thing. A 'theme' that surfaces too early can sink the story before its written, if you start bending the narrative to fit. I'll have to try and be on the lookout for that.
Time for a refill, and a little more reflection on the subject before going to bed.
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