Going primitive

My writing partner.

I once read a post by a female writer who said she would do anything to avoid writing. She would read any stupid thing on the internet, clean her closets, color-coordinate her clothes - anything to avoid facing that blank page. On a mini-scale, I can relate.

My writing motor is running smoothly again, but I did have some rough months. What I did to avoid writing was move my writing materials - ideas, notes, research, etc. - from one program to another, and then to another, and another ad infinitum. It was all about getting ready, an amorphous thing for a writer. But I finally realized that getting ready is something that happens in my head, not in computer apps. And this allowed me to begin writing again.

I abandoned my digital aids and returned to writing notes in, of all things, a notebook. It was a good move. I feel like I'm home each time I pick up my pen and write something down. (Mind you, the actual writing of the novel occurs in Scrivener, the world's best writing program. That's a given.) Without notes, I'm flying blind. They're a necessary tool for writers.

I discovered something long ago, but forgot it. I can record my ideas by typing them into a program, but there's something about writing the old-fashioned way that burns the idea into your brain. It's as if writing the idea down on paper makes the brain allocate a set place for it. That counts. I seem to lose many things that I type into a program - they're still there but I don't remember them or consult my notes to find them. But my handwritten notes are always there, always retrievable. Although I'm a very digital guy, I am reminded that writing by hand has benefits. I was happy to rediscover this.

I guess writer's block has similarities with baseball players who lose their swing. It's painful to watch them during these periods. They'll try anything to get their groove back, so they take advice from everyone and end up unable to play. And when they finally do find their swing again, they almost always say that the solution was to return to what they used to do when they were playing well. That's what I did. Notebooks are part of the way I write. I need them, I've got them and now I'm writing every day.

I know it sounds simple but that's how it worked for me. I'd love to hear about other writers' experiences...but that never happens on this blog. I used to write regularly about being a fiction writer. I hoped other writers would visit and share their concerns, habits, tricks, etc. The idea was that we could all benefit from hashing things out.

But I gave up. Why hold a party when no one ever arrives? Any writers out there? How does it work for you? A comment or two would be very nice. I'm not going to hold my breath, though. One learns from experience.

Sculptors, painters and writers

An image came to me last night concerning the difference between writers and artists as they engage in the act of creation.

A painter has an image in her mind. "Work" is the process of transferring this image to canvas. It's all right there: artist, paints, brushes, canvas.

A sculptor grapples with the stone or clay in front of him, kneading, chipping or pounding it into submission until it matches the image in his mind. It's a triad: sculptor, tools, medium. The system is closed and finite.

As I had this perception, it seemed to me that a writer has a larger place to go while he is working. We (writers, that is) slip into our creation, into the scene, the plot, the characters, the world. Yes, we're grappling with words as we write, but in a very real way we're not there, not typing, not writing -- we're inside the world we're creating. We're there.

I don't know if this is a reflection of true conditions or an impression that means little. But as I had this thought, I felt lucky to be a writer. The experience of leaving Earth behind while I slip into a fictional landscape feels so damn free.

I imagine artists also lay claim to an alternate space they visit while working, a place that feels more real and free than everyday reality. In truth, there's probably little difference between artists and writers. And since this concerns what philosophers call "qualia", there is no way to be sure. Our experiences are our own and no one else's.

Regardless of the truth of the matter, thinking about the different "work spaces" of writers and artists was uplifting. It made me glad to be this thing, to be a writer. I lucked out. And now, pardon me as I slip into an alternate world.
  
PS: Now you know why this blog is called "The Worlds". Shhhh. Don't tell anyone!

A non-boring guide to punctuation

I already see your eyes glazing over. But hang on. I promise not to bore. Here's the thing: punctuation is about timing. (See? It's easy.) Forget the boring rules (for now) and start to see punctuation as a tool writers use to pace the reader's experience. It's pretty cool. Here's how it works.

A period is a full stop. "The gull took your sandwich." Big pause (and probably a shriek on the other end). A comma is half as long a stop. "I love you as a person, not because you're wealthy and famous." You're helping your reader to understand your sentence by guiding her through the dance: stop here, pause there.

A semi-colon (;) provides a longer stop than a comma, but not a full stop like a period. "He's a fool; nothing has changed." It ain't quite a period, but almost. (I'm totally ignoring the rules here; there are additional reasons for punctuation, other than timing. But let's just look at it this way for a moment. I think it's helpful.)

A colon (:) guides the reader through a greased sluice, easily and quickly, into another phrase. "This is what you need: a broom that can fly!" Yes, there's a pause but less than if there was a semi-colon. (These days, you'll use an em-dash more often than a colon. I'd show you one but they don't appear consistently on the internet. It might look wrong.)

And yes, I've ignored all the sensible reasons to use punctuation. I just wanted to point out that timing is a big part of the story. This is important to remember if you're a writer. Use punctuation to guide the reader through your prose. And through the use of pacing alone, make your words more understandable.

The mortal sins of fiction

I purposely committed several sins while writing Xmas Carol. If someone tells me something is a sin, I must commit it. It's my nature.

My idea is to admit these sins here and now. This way, I've done it before the crowd (ha!) arrives here after reading the book. (Right after "The End", I provide a link to this blog. I want to get people's feedback on the book and a blog seemed like a great place to do this.) By the time readers get here, this post will be lost in the archives. They'll never see it. So I can speak freely about my sins at this time.

1. I didn't play the First Sentence Game. Truly, I wanted to begin the book with "It was a dark and stormy night," but it didn't fit in with my opening scene. It had to be a nice day. As a fallback position, I spit in the faces of the First Sentence Police by beginning the book with this sentence: "Maria Kennedy felt lucky." I'm not going to play the FSG.

2. I mentioned this before but I'll list it here as a sin. I didn't say one of the characters was African-American until after we'd met him in other scenes. My idea was that it seems offensive to have to say something about a character's race. He's a person. Only after his personality was well established did I added the info that he's African-American. We'll see how this flies.

3. The biggest sin of all, and one that people may harp on, is that I never described the main female character. I say nothing about Maria Kennedy's appearance. She could have short or long hair, blonde or black. It's up to the reader to decide. The reason I did this is that I'm often irritated by descriptions of characters. I thought they looked a certain way -- and then the author tells me otherwise. I don't like that; they looked better my way. Plus, since I'm gay it was easy for me to make the male characters sexy. But I just don't feel that way about women. So rather than paint this character, I figured I'd let the readers choose their own fantasy. And here's the thing: before publication, I let over ten people read the book and no one noticed. Fun!

For the record, those are my sins and I'm happy to have committed each of them. It will be interesting to see who notices.

Writers and interruptions

When I write (or edit), I get on a roll. It's an all-encompassing thing and the last thing I need is an interruption. Yet they arrive like clockwork.

What qualifies as an interruption? Sometimes it's a real-life issue, like having to tend to matters out there in the world (ugh). Getting sick can also throw me off, though not always. It depends on the illness. Even changing a prescription drug, or adding a new one, can make me feel so weird that I can't write. Lately, when a doctor suggests a prescription, I say, "Can I skip it?" And usually the doc says "fine" (which makes me wonder why he suggested it in the first place).

In any case, this is a lead-in to say that I'm suffering an interruption. No big deal but I haven't been able to start the final read-through of Xmas Carol. I'll begin tomorrow. And hopefully that will bring an end to this long, long period of editing. I want this book to be finished now.

If you know a writer, don't interrupt him (or her).

Writers, race and fiction

In the early days of this blog I covered the basics of writing a novel. No one taught me how to do this so I built the process myself from the ground up, and wanted to share what I'd learned. I approached it cleanly -- there would be no givens, no sacred cows. I wasn't going to try to write like others did. I'd make it up from whole cloth. This post is about where I landed on one of the issues I encountered as a writer.

One of my characters is African-American. (There are several in my books but I'm talking about one here, for sake of argument.) When it came time to write the first scene where he played a role, I wondered if I should reveal his race. I mean, if the character was white I probably wouldn't, right? So why did I have to do it for an African-American character? It seemed offensive to feel a need to state that this character is African-American. Why was that necessary? The character is a person.

So I didn't mention it. Later on in the book I alluded to the character's race in another way. But he appeared in earlier scenes that contain no racial reference. I think I like this way of doing it. If the reader is surprised later on in the book, perhaps they'll wonder why they're surprised. I like that, too.

I may not do this in every book and with every racial group, but as a writer it was an interesting issue to think my way through. As I say, I think I like where I landed.

Weird experience

The master.

A segment on the news tonight featured an invention I made up for Xmas Carol. There it was, up on the screen -- no longer my secret idea. How dare they invent something I made up? It's downright rude! 

Anyway, horrors. Now it'll look like I lifted the idea. Ah, but my pre-publication readers can attest to my coming up with it first! I'm saved. Then again, I may just come up a new invention and stick it in. Take that, inventors!

This was a seriously strange experience. Again, how dare they?

Writers need privacy

Perfect mug from zazzle.com

People don't understand that writers do something. There is this inane impression that since a writer is home, he's available for visits and chats. It doesn't work that way, kiddies. The books don't just materialize out of thin air.

People regularly intrude on my writing time. They just don't get it. Writers need to be alone. That's how it happens, this writing thing. You have to apply yourself and this requires a block of time when you will not be disturbed. You see, we're actually doing something when we write. And shockingly, this is true even though we're at home. Amazing concept, huh?

Will someone please invent wrist keyboards?

The old-fashioned keyboard that I use.

Joined at the wrist. That phrase has special meaning for me because it brings to mind something I long for. In fact, I've longed for this for decades: wrist keyboards.

I use a split keyboard (and can't imagine why anyone would use another kind). So I'm used to having a half-keyboard at each hand. What I want is something that attaches to my hands -- two half-keyboards -- that I can wear when I'm out in the world. I want to be able to write as I walk around, simply by pressing the keys on my handy wrist keyboards.

This may sound strange but think what you, as a writer, could do with this. You could walk through a crowd and write about what it feels like, what you're seeing, smelling, thinking. You could walk through a park and describe what you see, or sit in a restaurant and write about the sounds and sights and scents. It would be such a great way to capture scenes from real life. And yes, of course you could use a recorder -- but that's another medium. It's not writing; I can't relate.

Afterward, if I wanted to write a scene that takes place in a diner I could haul out the file I wrote while I was actually in one. It would describe the scene in fresh, present ways. I think that's different than making stuff up. I'd at least like to try this system and see if it gives me something more than I can dream up on my own.

This would be useful in so many ways. Hear a curious turn of phrase? Type it into memory. Even during conversations it might be handy because I could record a particular way something was said. I love the different ways people speak, and so much of it goes by the wayside. I'd rather collect it. Gimme wrist keyboards. Heck, I'd wear them to bed to catch the thoughts that shoot by as sleep tries to snatch me away. I'd never lose anything!

Lastly, give me a display in the form of a pair of sunglasses. That's it. With these tools I could conquer the world. So would someone please invent these items? Pretty please? Now?