It's time for entry number ten in my ongoing series of essays on the art and craft of writing. All the essays in this series are based on my fifty thoughts on writing, and will range from the deeply practical to the somewhat more abstract. Not all thoughts will be of equal use to everyone, but you never know until you try. I will continue doing my very best to make sense if you will continue telling me when I don't. As for today's thought, here it is:
Thoughts on Writing #10: Validate Yourself As Well As Your Parking.
The topic of validation is a very touchy one, and we're going to be returning to it several times as this essay series goes on. Since this is our first time, we're basically going to validate the idea of validation -- that is, we're going to look at when it's not only okay to seek validation, it's practically required. So our thought for the day is:
When a book or an idea is new, it's okay to want validation. You're standing at the mouth of a tunnel that's probably thousands of pages long, once you calculate for discarded text and revisions, and that's scary. Ask people 'do you like my idea?'. Tell people you need to hear good things about what you're doing. It's okay to say 'it's my first time, be gentle.'
As a writer, you're going to hear a lot of things about validation. Some of those things will be good. Some of those things will be bad. None of those things will change the fact that, as human creatures, we will occasionally require positive feedback to encourage and motivate us, and to keep us moving forward. So when is it okay to go fishing for approval? What makes validation a good thing, and not a handicap?
Let's begin.
( My thoughts are not your thoughts; my process is not your process; my ideas are not your ideas; my method is not your method. All these things are totally right for me, and may be just as totally wrong for you. So please don't stress if the things I'm saying don't apply to you -- I promise, there is no One True Way. This way for my initial thoughts on the touchy topic of validation.Collapse )
Thoughts on Writing #10: Validate Yourself As Well As Your Parking.
The topic of validation is a very touchy one, and we're going to be returning to it several times as this essay series goes on. Since this is our first time, we're basically going to validate the idea of validation -- that is, we're going to look at when it's not only okay to seek validation, it's practically required. So our thought for the day is:
When a book or an idea is new, it's okay to want validation. You're standing at the mouth of a tunnel that's probably thousands of pages long, once you calculate for discarded text and revisions, and that's scary. Ask people 'do you like my idea?'. Tell people you need to hear good things about what you're doing. It's okay to say 'it's my first time, be gentle.'
As a writer, you're going to hear a lot of things about validation. Some of those things will be good. Some of those things will be bad. None of those things will change the fact that, as human creatures, we will occasionally require positive feedback to encourage and motivate us, and to keep us moving forward. So when is it okay to go fishing for approval? What makes validation a good thing, and not a handicap?
Let's begin.
( My thoughts are not your thoughts; my process is not your process; my ideas are not your ideas; my method is not your method. All these things are totally right for me, and may be just as totally wrong for you. So please don't stress if the things I'm saying don't apply to you -- I promise, there is no One True Way. This way for my initial thoughts on the touchy topic of validation.Collapse )
- Current Mood:
thoughtful - Current Music:Weird Romance, 'Amazing Penetration.'
It's been too long since we've had one of these, so welcome to the ninth installment in my ongoing essay series on the art and craft of writing. All of these essays are based on my fifty thoughts on writing, which I basically wrote down because I was bored one afternoon. If I'd known that I was going to wind up accidentally basing an essay series off the damned things, I might have been a little more careful about what I was thinking. Only probably not, because I've met me, and I tend to regard that sort of thing as a challenge. Luckily, I'm caffeinated. Today's point to ponder:
Thoughts on Writing #9: Control Your Children.
I truly do feel that today's topic is an important one. I also feel that it's one of those things that's mildly difficult to explain -- either it makes sense or it doesn't. Since I've never been one to back away from something just because it was impossible to articulate, I'm just going to get out the hammer. The core of the idea is simple: sometimes your kids aren't perfect either. More expansively:
You know those parents with the totally out-of-control kids who run around the restaurant sweeping things off tables and screaming in the faces of all the other diners? And you know how they just sit there looking serene, because their kids are precious little angels and everything they do is wonderful? Don't be one of those parents. If your book spits in somebody's metaphorical soup, the appropriate thing to do is to apologize and discipline your text, not tell the person with the saliva slowly dissolving in their minestrone that they 'just don't appreciate the beauty of spit.' Not everyone is going to like what you do, but you can damn well make sure your kids don't trash the place before you pay the check.
What does this mean? It means that we can't please all the people all of the time, no matter how amazing we may think we are. It also means that sometimes, we aren't going to be able to defend the things our children -- our words -- can do, and we'll need to just apologize and move on. The responsibility for our creations is no one's but our own.
Let's begin.
( My thoughts are not your thoughts; my process is not your process; my ideas are not your ideas; my method is not your method. All these things are totally right for me, and may be just as totally wrong for you. So please don't stress if the things I'm saying don't apply to you -- I promise, there is no One True Way. This way for my thoughts on the things our kids can do.Collapse )
Thoughts on Writing #9: Control Your Children.
I truly do feel that today's topic is an important one. I also feel that it's one of those things that's mildly difficult to explain -- either it makes sense or it doesn't. Since I've never been one to back away from something just because it was impossible to articulate, I'm just going to get out the hammer. The core of the idea is simple: sometimes your kids aren't perfect either. More expansively:
You know those parents with the totally out-of-control kids who run around the restaurant sweeping things off tables and screaming in the faces of all the other diners? And you know how they just sit there looking serene, because their kids are precious little angels and everything they do is wonderful? Don't be one of those parents. If your book spits in somebody's metaphorical soup, the appropriate thing to do is to apologize and discipline your text, not tell the person with the saliva slowly dissolving in their minestrone that they 'just don't appreciate the beauty of spit.' Not everyone is going to like what you do, but you can damn well make sure your kids don't trash the place before you pay the check.
What does this mean? It means that we can't please all the people all of the time, no matter how amazing we may think we are. It also means that sometimes, we aren't going to be able to defend the things our children -- our words -- can do, and we'll need to just apologize and move on. The responsibility for our creations is no one's but our own.
Let's begin.
( My thoughts are not your thoughts; my process is not your process; my ideas are not your ideas; my method is not your method. All these things are totally right for me, and may be just as totally wrong for you. So please don't stress if the things I'm saying don't apply to you -- I promise, there is no One True Way. This way for my thoughts on the things our kids can do.Collapse )
- Current Music:Little Shop, 'Suddenly Seymour.'
Periodically, someone will get a look at something I'm working on and demand to know why it looks the way it does. (Most common question: Why are you double-spacing? Don't you know that wastes paper? Second most common question: Why can't you use italics like a normal person?) So I thought I'd take a few minutes and explain standard manuscript formatting. Because I can.
(Note that in today's world, where an increasing number of markets will allow electronic submission, these rules may be relaxed or even changed completely. Always check the submission guidelines of a market or publishing house before you submit to them. Also, these are novel formatting instructions, not short story formatting instructions, which are similar but different.)
*
Formatting Your Manuscript.
1. On the first page of your manuscript, please give the name of your project (underlined), skip two lines, and then provide your name and contact information, and the number of words in your work. Number of words is somewhat approximate, but try to stay within a hundred. Editors know. The submission rules mean that many of them can glance at a page and tell you how many words are on it. Deeply spooky. Do not screw with the editors. All this information should be tidily centered.
2. Most of us compose on computers these days. Computers have a lot more fonts than typewriters do...and you should forget about them as completely as you can. Set your font size to 12, select a basic font, and go to town. People will recommend both Courier and Times New Roman. Courier has the advantage of being monospace (every character is exactly as wide as every other character); Times New Roman, on the other hand, is so generic that it's rapidly becoming invisible. You want your manuscript to be invisible. Invisible manuscripts make for visible stories.
3. If you want something to be italicized in your final manuscript, use underlining. Seriously. You are not allowed to use any tricks your computer can do that your typewriter can't. If you want to be like Stephen King and make your readers crazy with little handwritten notes and such inside the text, become famous and talk to your editor.
4. Minimize non-essential emphasis. Titles will still be emphasized; depending on your genre, thoughts may be emphasized. But try to really consider how much underlining you have on a page, and keep it low.
5. Many rules of punctuation have become excitingly optional on the Internet. They are not optional in your manuscripts. Always put two spaces after any sentence-ending punctuation. Optional on the Internet? Yes. I don't care.
6. Begin the first chapter of your actual manuscript on line number eight.
7. Insert a hard page break at the end of every chapter. Begin the next chapter on line eight of the next page.
8. Signal intentional line breaks with either '#' or '*' alone on a line. The jury's out on whether this character should be centered or flush left. It's kinda up to you.
9. If you are printing your manuscript for submission, rather than submitting electronically, use only plain white non-erasable paper. You can get this at any office supply store. Better quality paper is always, well, better. Only print black-on-white. That's the easiest for people to read, and it's what's expected of you. Printing on weird paper doesn't make it more likely that you'll get published, sad to say.
10. Whether you're printing at home or submitting electronically, be sure to leave margins of at least one inch around all four edges of the page. This allows for taking notes, and makes it easier for people to read quickly.
11. Always double-space. If you're anything like me, this is going to look super-weird, at least at first. And yes, you'll kill a few more trees, but that's the way it works. You need to leave room for people to make notes on your document. Don't space-and-a-half, don't triple-space. Double-space.
12. Do not print double-sided.
*
There are a lot of other little tricks, opinions, and personal formatting touches that people use, but on the whole, 'black on white, double-spaced, underline instead of italics, leave plenty of space in the margins' is going to give you a really good start. There are entire books on the subject. Read one before you submit a book. You'll be glad.
(Note that in today's world, where an increasing number of markets will allow electronic submission, these rules may be relaxed or even changed completely. Always check the submission guidelines of a market or publishing house before you submit to them. Also, these are novel formatting instructions, not short story formatting instructions, which are similar but different.)
*
Formatting Your Manuscript.
1. On the first page of your manuscript, please give the name of your project (underlined), skip two lines, and then provide your name and contact information, and the number of words in your work. Number of words is somewhat approximate, but try to stay within a hundred. Editors know. The submission rules mean that many of them can glance at a page and tell you how many words are on it. Deeply spooky. Do not screw with the editors. All this information should be tidily centered.
2. Most of us compose on computers these days. Computers have a lot more fonts than typewriters do...and you should forget about them as completely as you can. Set your font size to 12, select a basic font, and go to town. People will recommend both Courier and Times New Roman. Courier has the advantage of being monospace (every character is exactly as wide as every other character); Times New Roman, on the other hand, is so generic that it's rapidly becoming invisible. You want your manuscript to be invisible. Invisible manuscripts make for visible stories.
3. If you want something to be italicized in your final manuscript, use underlining. Seriously. You are not allowed to use any tricks your computer can do that your typewriter can't. If you want to be like Stephen King and make your readers crazy with little handwritten notes and such inside the text, become famous and talk to your editor.
4. Minimize non-essential emphasis. Titles will still be emphasized; depending on your genre, thoughts may be emphasized. But try to really consider how much underlining you have on a page, and keep it low.
5. Many rules of punctuation have become excitingly optional on the Internet. They are not optional in your manuscripts. Always put two spaces after any sentence-ending punctuation. Optional on the Internet? Yes. I don't care.
6. Begin the first chapter of your actual manuscript on line number eight.
7. Insert a hard page break at the end of every chapter. Begin the next chapter on line eight of the next page.
8. Signal intentional line breaks with either '#' or '*' alone on a line. The jury's out on whether this character should be centered or flush left. It's kinda up to you.
9. If you are printing your manuscript for submission, rather than submitting electronically, use only plain white non-erasable paper. You can get this at any office supply store. Better quality paper is always, well, better. Only print black-on-white. That's the easiest for people to read, and it's what's expected of you. Printing on weird paper doesn't make it more likely that you'll get published, sad to say.
10. Whether you're printing at home or submitting electronically, be sure to leave margins of at least one inch around all four edges of the page. This allows for taking notes, and makes it easier for people to read quickly.
11. Always double-space. If you're anything like me, this is going to look super-weird, at least at first. And yes, you'll kill a few more trees, but that's the way it works. You need to leave room for people to make notes on your document. Don't space-and-a-half, don't triple-space. Double-space.
12. Do not print double-sided.
*
There are a lot of other little tricks, opinions, and personal formatting touches that people use, but on the whole, 'black on white, double-spaced, underline instead of italics, leave plenty of space in the margins' is going to give you a really good start. There are entire books on the subject. Read one before you submit a book. You'll be glad.
- Current Mood:
awake - Current Music:Vixy singing 'Rubber Ducky' in my head.
Welcome to the eighth installment in my ongoing essay series on the art and craft of writing. Some of these essays are all deep and meaningful and literate and stuff. Others aren't so much. That's because they're all based around my fifty thoughts on writing, some of which are much more intellectual than others. (I think this is true of fifty thoughts on anything.) Remember that the author always responds well to bribery, and since Starbucks now has Pumpkin Spice back in the stores, bribing has just become very, very easy. And now, because I can only stall for so long, it's time for the main event:
Thoughts on Writing #8: God Made the Mosquito.
This was one of the ones that turned out to be a little difficult to summarize, hence the oddly Vacation Bible School title of today's essay. Still, it's true that, as writers, we often assume that we're going to be the final authority and our own work. And sadly, that isn't always the case. Hence today's thought:
You are the author. That makes you, effectively, God. God created the mosquito. Sometimes, God can screw the pooch in a very big way. Being the author doesn't mean that you're incapable of being wrong. Sometimes, you'll write things that are out of character. Sometimes, you'll write things that are out of place. And sometimes, you'll write things that are just flat-out incorrect and inaccurate and insane and wrong. That's not a bad thing. The bad thing is refusing to admit it.
Essentially, I'm saying that no one gets to be infallible, not even the people who supposedly are. Oh, sure, we can cover it up with claims of being all-knowing, but that's not going to stop the spread of malaria. Today we're looking at authorial mistakes, learning to spot them, learning to resolve them, and having the will not to be ashamed.
Let's begin.
( My thoughts are not your thoughts; my process is not your process; my ideas are not your ideas; my method is not your method. All these things are totally right for me, and may be just as totally wrong for you. So please don't stress if the things I'm saying don't apply to you -- I promise, there is no One True Way. This way for my thoughts on the fact that yes, sometimes, authors make mistakes.Collapse )
Thoughts on Writing #8: God Made the Mosquito.
This was one of the ones that turned out to be a little difficult to summarize, hence the oddly Vacation Bible School title of today's essay. Still, it's true that, as writers, we often assume that we're going to be the final authority and our own work. And sadly, that isn't always the case. Hence today's thought:
You are the author. That makes you, effectively, God. God created the mosquito. Sometimes, God can screw the pooch in a very big way. Being the author doesn't mean that you're incapable of being wrong. Sometimes, you'll write things that are out of character. Sometimes, you'll write things that are out of place. And sometimes, you'll write things that are just flat-out incorrect and inaccurate and insane and wrong. That's not a bad thing. The bad thing is refusing to admit it.
Essentially, I'm saying that no one gets to be infallible, not even the people who supposedly are. Oh, sure, we can cover it up with claims of being all-knowing, but that's not going to stop the spread of malaria. Today we're looking at authorial mistakes, learning to spot them, learning to resolve them, and having the will not to be ashamed.
Let's begin.
( My thoughts are not your thoughts; my process is not your process; my ideas are not your ideas; my method is not your method. All these things are totally right for me, and may be just as totally wrong for you. So please don't stress if the things I'm saying don't apply to you -- I promise, there is no One True Way. This way for my thoughts on the fact that yes, sometimes, authors make mistakes.Collapse )
- Current Mood: thoughtful
- Current Music:Weird Romance, 'Feeling No Pain.'
It's time for yet another essay on the art and craft of writing, since there's nothing else going on around here. To recap our premise, this is number seven in a series of fifty essays based around my fifty thoughts on writing. The topics range from the deeply silly to the fairly serious, and that's probably why I keep doing them. That, and I don't like to leave things unfinished. As always, bribes are happily accepted, and since we're approaching Halloween -- the most wonderful time of the year -- suitable bribes are easily found. But enough about that. Here's a look at today's topic:
Thoughts on Writing #7: Write What You...Hell, No.
One of the first things most of us learn in classes on writing -- even high school-level English classes -- is 'write what you know.' We hear it from teachers, we hear it from other writers, we hear it from people who just want to help. 'Write what you know.' Well, here's my thought on the topic:
The phrase 'write what you know' is innately flawed. I don't know what it's like to be a changeling detective working the mean streets of San Francisco, or a hard-boiled journalist with a crazy twin brother, or a teenage lycanthrope with a serial killer problem. Write what you're willing to know. Everything will begin with a kernel of pre-existing knowledge -- I know folklore (Toby), zombies and blogging (Georgia), and coyotes and high school (Clady) -- and expand into a fabulous orgy of learning. Toby taught me San Francisco history and lots of ways to kill people. Georgia taught me virology and plagues. Clady taught me about snack foods. If you're not willing to write anything but what you already know, you're going to be restricted to autobiography, non-fiction, and writing the same plot ten thousand times. And that's just not fun.
I think it's pretty clear that I don't actually believe in 'write what you know.' So what does that mean? This time we're talking about writing what you know, writing what you're willing to know, and writing what you learn.
Let's begin.
( My thoughts are not your thoughts; my process is not your process; my ideas are not your ideas; my method is not your method. All these things are totally right for me, and may be just as totally wrong for you. So please don't stress if the things I'm saying don't apply to you -- I promise, there is no One True Way. This way for my thoughts on writing what you know -- when it's appropriate, and when it really isn't.Collapse )
Thoughts on Writing #7: Write What You...Hell, No.
One of the first things most of us learn in classes on writing -- even high school-level English classes -- is 'write what you know.' We hear it from teachers, we hear it from other writers, we hear it from people who just want to help. 'Write what you know.' Well, here's my thought on the topic:
The phrase 'write what you know' is innately flawed. I don't know what it's like to be a changeling detective working the mean streets of San Francisco, or a hard-boiled journalist with a crazy twin brother, or a teenage lycanthrope with a serial killer problem. Write what you're willing to know. Everything will begin with a kernel of pre-existing knowledge -- I know folklore (Toby), zombies and blogging (Georgia), and coyotes and high school (Clady) -- and expand into a fabulous orgy of learning. Toby taught me San Francisco history and lots of ways to kill people. Georgia taught me virology and plagues. Clady taught me about snack foods. If you're not willing to write anything but what you already know, you're going to be restricted to autobiography, non-fiction, and writing the same plot ten thousand times. And that's just not fun.
I think it's pretty clear that I don't actually believe in 'write what you know.' So what does that mean? This time we're talking about writing what you know, writing what you're willing to know, and writing what you learn.
Let's begin.
( My thoughts are not your thoughts; my process is not your process; my ideas are not your ideas; my method is not your method. All these things are totally right for me, and may be just as totally wrong for you. So please don't stress if the things I'm saying don't apply to you -- I promise, there is no One True Way. This way for my thoughts on writing what you know -- when it's appropriate, and when it really isn't.Collapse )
- Current Mood:
contemplative - Current Music:The opening theme from 'The Middleman.'
Having moved past our series of entries on people being mean to you (which is going to happen, just in case you miraculously managed to miss that memo), it's time to begin a totally new topic here in my series of fifty essays based around my fifty thoughts on writing. We're starting to get into the really philosophical, and hence somewhat more difficult to express, concepts. That means we're heading for more headaches and a lot more fun. Also, hopefully, more bribery, as we're standing at the gateway of candy corn and pumpkin products season. Remember, a bribed blonde is a happy blonde. A darling blonde. And that brings us to today's topic:
Thoughts on Writing #6: Kill Your Darlings.
That's right: I'm advocating murder. Now, before you call the police to report me as a hazard to the human race, I think we'd better take a look at the thought that goes with the title, because it's going to make a lot of things a lot more clear:
Kill your darlings. You can save their wordy little corpses in a file where you can look back on them with love -- I do -- but often, the little bits of text that we're the most proud of have no business being in the middle of the narrative. Nothing is sacred once the editing machete comes out.
This is one of the proverbs of the writing world, and one of the hardest instructions I've ever had to learn how to take. This time, we're talking about identifying your darlings, killing them mercifully, and finding a way to live with what you've done.
Let's begin.
( My thoughts are not your thoughts; my process is not your process; my ideas are not your ideas; my method is not your method. All these things are totally right for me, and may be just as totally wrong for you. So please don't stress if the things I'm saying don't apply to you -- I promise, there is no One True Way. This way for my thoughts on killing your darlings, doing it mercifully, and not turning your manuscript into a blood bath.Collapse )
Thoughts on Writing #6: Kill Your Darlings.
That's right: I'm advocating murder. Now, before you call the police to report me as a hazard to the human race, I think we'd better take a look at the thought that goes with the title, because it's going to make a lot of things a lot more clear:
Kill your darlings. You can save their wordy little corpses in a file where you can look back on them with love -- I do -- but often, the little bits of text that we're the most proud of have no business being in the middle of the narrative. Nothing is sacred once the editing machete comes out.
This is one of the proverbs of the writing world, and one of the hardest instructions I've ever had to learn how to take. This time, we're talking about identifying your darlings, killing them mercifully, and finding a way to live with what you've done.
Let's begin.
( My thoughts are not your thoughts; my process is not your process; my ideas are not your ideas; my method is not your method. All these things are totally right for me, and may be just as totally wrong for you. So please don't stress if the things I'm saying don't apply to you -- I promise, there is no One True Way. This way for my thoughts on killing your darlings, doing it mercifully, and not turning your manuscript into a blood bath.Collapse )
- Current Mood:
mellow - Current Music:Avenue Q, 'It Sucks To Be Me.'
Since we've gone a little while without a lengthy essay on writing, I figure it's time for the fifth installment in what seems really likely to be a series of fifty essays based around my fifty thoughts on writing. On the plus side, at least this means we're ten percent of the way there! On the down side...why am I doing things where 'ten percent of the way there' seems like a ringing endorsement? Ah, well. At least it's keeping me from starting the pandemic, which would be antisocial and really quite mean of me. And speaking of people being mean to you, let's take a look at today's topic:
Thoughts on Writing #5: People Are Going To Be Mean To You, Take Two.
Does this seem similar to our last topic? That's because superficially, it really is. It's only when we start digging down beneath the surface that the differences become really apparent. Get your shovel, and take a look at the original thought:
People are going to be mean to you: that's axiomatic. And sometimes, those people are going to have good and vital things to say. But people who are being mean for the sake of being mean have the potential to do more harm than good, and when you encounter those people, it's okay to walk away. Don't refuse to let anyone tell you that you're flawed. That way lies madness and pretentiousness. But don't stand around to be told that everything you think is fun is a steaming piece of shit, either.
So last time we talked about cruelty and the fine line between tough love and people being dicks just because they can. This time, we're talking about the fact that you do have a right to assess the critique you're given for its innate value and walk away when it's necessary.
Let's begin.
( My thoughts are not your thoughts; my process is not your process; my ideas are not your ideas; my method is not your method. All these things are totally right for me, and may be just as totally wrong for you. So please don't stress if the things I'm saying don't apply to you -- I promise, there is no One True Way. This way for my second set of thoughts on people being mean to you.Collapse )
Thoughts on Writing #5: People Are Going To Be Mean To You, Take Two.
Does this seem similar to our last topic? That's because superficially, it really is. It's only when we start digging down beneath the surface that the differences become really apparent. Get your shovel, and take a look at the original thought:
People are going to be mean to you: that's axiomatic. And sometimes, those people are going to have good and vital things to say. But people who are being mean for the sake of being mean have the potential to do more harm than good, and when you encounter those people, it's okay to walk away. Don't refuse to let anyone tell you that you're flawed. That way lies madness and pretentiousness. But don't stand around to be told that everything you think is fun is a steaming piece of shit, either.
So last time we talked about cruelty and the fine line between tough love and people being dicks just because they can. This time, we're talking about the fact that you do have a right to assess the critique you're given for its innate value and walk away when it's necessary.
Let's begin.
( My thoughts are not your thoughts; my process is not your process; my ideas are not your ideas; my method is not your method. All these things are totally right for me, and may be just as totally wrong for you. So please don't stress if the things I'm saying don't apply to you -- I promise, there is no One True Way. This way for my second set of thoughts on people being mean to you.Collapse )
- Current Mood: thoughtful
- Current Music:Death Cab for Cutie, 'The Ice Is Getting Thinner.'
Well, here we are, back again, for the fourth installment in what's looking more and more like a series of fifty essays based around my fifty thoughts on writing. Never let it be said that I looked at an enormous commitment, shrugged, and declared myself to be preemptively over-booked. Besides which, this is at least reasonably entertaining, and the discussions it's sparking are really entertaining. As always, I respond well to bribery. Consider the virtues of candy corn. And in the meantime, why not check out today's topic? Which is, of course:
Thoughts on Writing #4: People Are Going To Be Mean To You.
You are a person, and you have a right to the ball! Just make sure that it's the right ball before you really get attached. Committing to the wrong ball just makes everyone sad. The original thought:
People are going to be mean to you. Full stop, absolutely, people are going to be mean to you. Some of them will be mean because they like what you're doing, and they want to see it work. Some of them will be mean because they feel like being jerks. Learn to see past the mean and get to the actual meat of what's being said. 'I don't like romance' is not the same thing as 'this scene makes no sense,' and they don't have the same potential to benefit your work.
That's right: today we're talking about cruelty, and the fine, fine line between tough love and being an absolute asshole. Because that's the sort of thing that keeps us entertained around here.
Let's begin.
( My thoughts are not your thoughts; my process is not your process; my ideas are not your ideas; my method is not your method. All these things are totally right for me, and may be just as totally wrong for you. So please don't stress if the things I'm saying don't apply to you -- I promise, there is no One True Way. This way for my thoughts on people being mean to you.Collapse )
Thoughts on Writing #4: People Are Going To Be Mean To You.
You are a person, and you have a right to the ball! Just make sure that it's the right ball before you really get attached. Committing to the wrong ball just makes everyone sad. The original thought:
People are going to be mean to you. Full stop, absolutely, people are going to be mean to you. Some of them will be mean because they like what you're doing, and they want to see it work. Some of them will be mean because they feel like being jerks. Learn to see past the mean and get to the actual meat of what's being said. 'I don't like romance' is not the same thing as 'this scene makes no sense,' and they don't have the same potential to benefit your work.
That's right: today we're talking about cruelty, and the fine, fine line between tough love and being an absolute asshole. Because that's the sort of thing that keeps us entertained around here.
Let's begin.
( My thoughts are not your thoughts; my process is not your process; my ideas are not your ideas; my method is not your method. All these things are totally right for me, and may be just as totally wrong for you. So please don't stress if the things I'm saying don't apply to you -- I promise, there is no One True Way. This way for my thoughts on people being mean to you.Collapse )
- Current Mood: thoughtful
- Current Music:We're About 9, 'Writing Again.'
And now it's time for the third installment in what I'm pretty sure has just become a series of fifty essays based around my fifty thoughts on writing. Because what I was really dying for was another way to drive myself insane. Oh, well. I work best when I'm trying to run in seventy directions at the same time, and this definitely qualifies as a series of sprints, if not a marathon. Remember, I respond well to bribery, especially when the bribery happens to be pumpkin-flavored. In the meantime, please enjoy today's topic. Namely:
Thoughts on Writing #3: You May Not Be A Novelist (and That's Okay).
You are a person, and you have a right to the ball! Just make sure that it's the right ball before you really get attached. Committing to the wrong ball just makes everyone sad. The original thought:
Putting fifty thousand words on paper does not make you a novelist. It means you successfully put fifty thousand words on paper. You should be proud of yourself for that, because dude, it's difficult to stick with a plot and a concept and an idea and characters for that long, and I salute you. At the same time, you're not a novelist. Sweating over those fifty thousand words until you're confident that at least forty thousand of them are good ones is what makes you a novelist. Good luck.
Ready?
Let's begin.
( My thoughts are not your thoughts; my process is not your process; my ideas are not your ideas; my method is not your method. All these things are totally right for me, and may be just as totally wrong for you. So please don't stress if the things I'm saying don't apply to you -- I promise, there is no One True Way. This way for my thoughts on becoming a novelist.Collapse )
Thoughts on Writing #3: You May Not Be A Novelist (and That's Okay).
You are a person, and you have a right to the ball! Just make sure that it's the right ball before you really get attached. Committing to the wrong ball just makes everyone sad. The original thought:
Putting fifty thousand words on paper does not make you a novelist. It means you successfully put fifty thousand words on paper. You should be proud of yourself for that, because dude, it's difficult to stick with a plot and a concept and an idea and characters for that long, and I salute you. At the same time, you're not a novelist. Sweating over those fifty thousand words until you're confident that at least forty thousand of them are good ones is what makes you a novelist. Good luck.
Ready?
Let's begin.
( My thoughts are not your thoughts; my process is not your process; my ideas are not your ideas; my method is not your method. All these things are totally right for me, and may be just as totally wrong for you. So please don't stress if the things I'm saying don't apply to you -- I promise, there is no One True Way. This way for my thoughts on becoming a novelist.Collapse )
- Current Mood: thoughtful
- Current Music:Aqua, 'Halloween.'
Welcome to the second of what looks dismayingly like it's going to be a series of fifty essays based on my fifty thoughts on writing. Because, y'know, it's not like I was doing anything else with myself in my copious amounts of spare time. Except for the part where, oh, wait, I DON'T HAVE ANY. Clearly my brain is trying to kill me. Please send help. If you can't send help, please send pumpkin cake, as it is direly needed. If you can't send pumpkin cake, well, enjoy today's topic. Namely:
Thoughts on Writing #2: Your Grammar Is Eating The Neighbors.
...what's sad is that this is actually nicer and less snarky than the first entry in this series. Just in case you'd wondered whether I was actually mellowing. The original thought:
The rules of English grammar were devised by an evil linguist who had a bone to pick with the adherents of the more traditional schools of the written word. They laughed at him in the academy, and we bastards are still paying today. You don't need to have a perfect grasp of the seventeen thousand (occasionally conflicting) rules to be a writer; that's what editors and proofreaders are for. At the same time, you can't just throw a bunch of words at the page and expect to have all your work done for you. Learn the basic rules of punctuation and grammar before you subject other people to your work. They can squabble over the Oxford commas at their leisure.
Ready?
Let's begin.
( My thoughts are not your thoughts; my process is not your process; my ideas are not your ideas; my method is not your method. All these things are totally right for me, and may be just as totally wrong for you. So please don't stress if the things I'm saying don't apply to you -- I promise, there is no One True Way. This way for my thoughts on grammar.Collapse )
Thoughts on Writing #2: Your Grammar Is Eating The Neighbors.
...what's sad is that this is actually nicer and less snarky than the first entry in this series. Just in case you'd wondered whether I was actually mellowing. The original thought:
The rules of English grammar were devised by an evil linguist who had a bone to pick with the adherents of the more traditional schools of the written word. They laughed at him in the academy, and we bastards are still paying today. You don't need to have a perfect grasp of the seventeen thousand (occasionally conflicting) rules to be a writer; that's what editors and proofreaders are for. At the same time, you can't just throw a bunch of words at the page and expect to have all your work done for you. Learn the basic rules of punctuation and grammar before you subject other people to your work. They can squabble over the Oxford commas at their leisure.
Ready?
Let's begin.
( My thoughts are not your thoughts; my process is not your process; my ideas are not your ideas; my method is not your method. All these things are totally right for me, and may be just as totally wrong for you. So please don't stress if the things I'm saying don't apply to you -- I promise, there is no One True Way. This way for my thoughts on grammar.Collapse )
- Current Mood: thoughtful
- Current Music:Girlyman, 'Hey, Rose/Genie In A Bottle.'
Apparently, coming up with a list of fifty thoughts on writing wasn't enough for the teeming bag of plague-carrying bats that is my brain, because I have continued to ponder each of the points...
...thus leading to what looks very likely to be a series of fifty posts on and about writing. There are days when I look at my brain and truly wonder whether it is, in fact, a suicidal glob of fat and neurons, devoted to driving me insane and thus allowing it the sweet oblivion of death. But no matter! For the moment, there is pondering to be done, and a pseudo essay to be written. Today's topic, inspiring as it may or may not be:
Thoughts on Writing #1: You're Going To Suck.
Aren't we kind around these parts? The original thought:
You're going to suck when you start. Sucking when you start is okay. Every new project, no matter how brilliant the idea at the heart of it happens to be, is going to start by sucking. Just deal with it, and soldier through. Every sentence is a learning experience.
Ready?
Let's begin.
( My thoughts are not your thoughts; my process is not your process; my ideas are not your ideas; my method is not your method. All these things are totally right for me, and may be just as totally wrong for you. So please don't stress if the things I'm saying don't apply to you -- I promise, there is no One True Way. This way for my thoughts on sucking.Collapse )
...thus leading to what looks very likely to be a series of fifty posts on and about writing. There are days when I look at my brain and truly wonder whether it is, in fact, a suicidal glob of fat and neurons, devoted to driving me insane and thus allowing it the sweet oblivion of death. But no matter! For the moment, there is pondering to be done, and a pseudo essay to be written. Today's topic, inspiring as it may or may not be:
Thoughts on Writing #1: You're Going To Suck.
Aren't we kind around these parts? The original thought:
You're going to suck when you start. Sucking when you start is okay. Every new project, no matter how brilliant the idea at the heart of it happens to be, is going to start by sucking. Just deal with it, and soldier through. Every sentence is a learning experience.
Ready?
Let's begin.
( My thoughts are not your thoughts; my process is not your process; my ideas are not your ideas; my method is not your method. All these things are totally right for me, and may be just as totally wrong for you. So please don't stress if the things I'm saying don't apply to you -- I promise, there is no One True Way. This way for my thoughts on sucking.Collapse )
- Current Mood: thoughtful
- Current Music:Rasputina, 'Bad Moon Rising.'
I just read On Writing again. I also just read half the books in the Howdunnit series, because it's always good to refresh your understanding of poisons and blunt-force trauma. Oh, and a couple books on pandemics and how to make sure everybody has a good time—what if we threw a pandemic and everybody came?!—but that was for fun. Also, I just revised three novels at a speed that, were the publishing world a reality show, would probably qualify me for a spot on the finale and a shot at the hundred thousand dollar grand prize (So You Think You Can Write, with your host, Warren Ellis, will be back after a short break...). The end result of all this wallowing in the technical sides of the written word, as well as all this revising? A whole lot of thinking about writing. I mean, seriously, I never spend this much time just thinking about writing, and I spend the bulk of my time actually writing. When I'm not writing, I'm whining about the fact that I'm not writing. And now? Now I'm thinking about writing.
Because I believe firmly in the art of over-sharing, I've decided to write down some of my conclusions about writing. Technique, reality, functionality, revision, critique, the whole ball of wax. Because maybe that will get them out of my head, and allow me to get some goddamn work done. Your mileage will absolutely vary. You may look at my list and go 'wow, she's totally out of her tiny little blonde mind.' You may look at this list and go 'wow, I never thought of it that way.' And either way is totally fine. My method of writing is not yours. Your method of writing is not mine. And we should all be very grateful for that, because if we cloned my muse, the world would rapidly run out of absinthe and cherry pie.
( Click here to be subjected to a variety of disconnected thoughts on the wonderful world of writing. Fifty in total. You must be at least this tall to ride this ride.Collapse )
Because I believe firmly in the art of over-sharing, I've decided to write down some of my conclusions about writing. Technique, reality, functionality, revision, critique, the whole ball of wax. Because maybe that will get them out of my head, and allow me to get some goddamn work done. Your mileage will absolutely vary. You may look at my list and go 'wow, she's totally out of her tiny little blonde mind.' You may look at this list and go 'wow, I never thought of it that way.' And either way is totally fine. My method of writing is not yours. Your method of writing is not mine. And we should all be very grateful for that, because if we cloned my muse, the world would rapidly run out of absinthe and cherry pie.
( Click here to be subjected to a variety of disconnected thoughts on the wonderful world of writing. Fifty in total. You must be at least this tall to ride this ride.Collapse )
- Current Mood: thoughtful
- Current Music:We're About 9, 'Writing Again.'
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