Pulling Threads Together

When I finished writing yesterday, I’d completed another chapter. Now I had three chapters that needed to be pulled together. Each was a thread that seemed unrelated to the others, even though I knew they were related.

Walking along, I thought about that writing process. I’d envisioned something happening to these characters, gone down several side trails (creating the three threads) and now had to tie them together to return to the original story line. I thought about how much of my writing seems like problem solving, and things I’ve done all my life, from solving math problems in school to logic problems done for pleasure, personnel issues because I’d become a manger, on to difficult business cases that required me to find, compile, and analyze data using spreadsheets.

I’ve heard people say that they wrote something but didn’t finish it, because they didn’t know what to do next. Resolving those things shouldn’t stop us, if we’re writers. We dig more deeply, searching for ways to finish the story we’re telling. How we get to that point that we find a way varies. I walk and noodle, and sometimes read other books. Reading fiction often seems to open another door in my mind. It’s a fresh reminder of the importance of reading if you’re writing. Reading stimulates my imagination and creativity.

While I walked and thought, I recognized that I was also intimidated. I was afraid of making a mistake, tying the three together. It’s a major moment in this series.

That amused me, since I knew that what I wrote when I write like crazy is rarely the finished product. I make mistakes, and correct them, trying to improve the story and how I’m telling it. But I also realized that I was over-analyzing what was going on, a regular problem I have with myself for everything from deciding what to order on a menu to, well, writing a novel.

I also laughed at myself because I thought, a million words written, and it seems like a million more to go. It staggered me to think that these four novels plus the support documents for this series added up to over a million words. It didn’t seem like a million words, but I never thought about the sum total when I wrote them. I just wrote, word by word, and it all came together.

It reminded me, too, of walking to get somewhere, and stopping partway through the journey because I’m hot, sweaty, and tired, and realized, I’ve come so far, but there’s more to go. So I pause, look around, accept that I have to walk on to get anywhere, and continue on the path that I began to follow.

So, deep breaths, I told myself. Just sit down, have some coffee, and write. I’ve written a million words; what’s a million more?

Okay, I’ve had the coffee, and I’m sitting down. Time to write like crazy, at least one more time.

March 29, 2018 0

Episodic, Hyperlink, Mash-up

I’m enjoying writing the Incomplete States series. I have worried about its structure and my style, until I came across the term hyperlink used to describe a form of novel.

Eureka! That lifted my bloody spirits. Until then, I was cringing over the shape and my methodology. People won’t like this, I told myself even as I answered, so fucking what, and acknowledged, you can’t please every reader, and reminded myself, I’m writing for myself as a reader first, and this is what I like.

I really like how the first volume’s beta version emerged, and I’m happy with the third volume. Number four is in progress and is coming along well.

A sharp reader will noticed that I skipped over number two. Volume two was the first one written. As Thomas Weaver noted in comments to me during some of my postings, most writers start out in the middle. That’s certainly what I usually do, and I did with this concept. I was definitely walking across a dark and unfamiliar room when I began writing it. It ends up as the most complex of the four volumes, with the greatest aspects of hyperlinks. Therefore, it worries me the most. But when I read and review it, I don’t come across anything that I want to change. An outside editor might have another view of that. Hell, come on, we know they will.

It’s not something to worry about now. Right now I’m giddy with satisfaction over my progress.

Guess what time it is? Yep, got my coffee. It’s time to write like fucking crazy, at least one more time.

March 28, 2018 0

The Winding Road

As the current sub-plot and story line of my work in progress winds along like a leisurely country drive, I curb impatience to be done. If I had to describe myself, impatient is a word I’d consistently employ. I’m continuously monitoring and struggling with my impatient urges to be done, to move on, to get there, to get finished, etc.

Today, motoring through the scenes I planned to write, I realized that I wasn’t as close to being finished with the work in progress that I’d hoped and believed. I’m enjoying writing it. It’s weird to say that it’s a leisurely write, because I write several thousand words a day (knock on wood – don’t want to scare off the muses), and edit it every day. Yes, I’m a writer that edits as I go, because my writing is an organic garden in progress, and requires constant attention. I usually edit the volume in progress (number four), but sometimes jump back and edit the others. They’re all beta, and will require more work when they’re done before they’re finished.

I want this series done so I can go on to other books that I’ve begun or planned. One is from a story idea a fan sent me. “What can you do with this concept?” she asked. Answering her, I ended up writing about forty pages. I stumbled across it last night, and enjoyed what I read, and remembered what else was planned, and I feel like I owe her to finish it.

The second project that I want to continue is the third novel in my Life Lessons mystery series. Readers of the first two books have asked several times, “When is the third one coming out?” Soon, I promise, as soon as I finish this work in progress. I’d written five chapters of it before getting distracted by the current concept, and read some of that last night, and remembered, “Oh, yes, there’s so much to write here.” I had several more sequels planned in the series and had a broad outline of that developed. And, as I write this fourth volume of the current WIP, a fifth volume keeps tugging on my sleeve.

Not enough time, you know? Those are just a few of the dozen items in the writing bucket. But, c’est le vie, this is the writing life.

Now time to write like crazy, at least one more time.

March 25, 2018 0

So It Goes

I ended up doing a little editing and a lot of reviewing during my writing session today. It was wholly unplanned. Part of it was that the stories drew me in. I wrote what I liked to read, and I enjoyed reading it.

That’s the best part of this writing life, that I can read these things that seem to flow into me from somewhere else, and enjoy them. They seem like they’re far superior to my thinking and skills. Weird, right?

Time to call it on another day of writing like crazy.

March 9, 2018 0

Wickedly Aggressive

You ever been writing and catch fire? The words blaze through you and onto the page, forcing you to do your best to keep up. It’s an exhausting but exuberant process, oddly like scoring a touchdown or do something else that requires focus, attention, and energy.

Then you stop writing to attend to the mundane requirements of life, but the writing doesn’t stop. It keeps flowing. Changing metaphors, it’s like rivers overflowing its banks, flooding you with more of the story that you’re writing. Great, but so damn distracting, because it’s consuming your energy, removing you from normal conversations and interactions. You become short-tempered and irritated with others because your energy is pouring into the writing pouring into you.

And then, it won’t stop at the day’s end. Your body and brain are ready for sleep, but the writing continues in your mind, refusing to be stopped.

I’m not complaining, though, just pointing out that sometimes, those muses can be wickedly aggressive.

Okay, time to write like crazy, at least one more time.

March 2, 2018 11

Madeleine Said

Exactly how I often feel.

March 2, 2018 0

Olympic Gold

Sometimes when I’m writing, I think about taking a break from the process.

I’m thinking about that now, thinking, when I finish the first draft of this quadrilogy, I might take a break.

Yes, I’m almost at the end, and I’m tired of writing it, so it’s natural to think, I want a break. Focusing on the moving parts and the characters’ activities is intense and takes intellectual energy that straps my other energies.

Then, I realize, yes, I’m tired of writing that series, a series I’ve been working on since July of 2016. Not long, you say? Yes, but this is the first draft, and there’s work to be done on other projects. I deliberately choose not to work on other writing projects to focus on the complexity. I want to write them.

Then there’s the madness.

The madness is the standard writer’s angst about what has been done and what remains against the filter of, does this fucking work? Will others read it and think, “This guy is an idiot.” Worse, they’ll say, “He’s a talentless, pathetic hack.”

These words, coming through me from imaginary others, are wearying. I combat them by assuring myself that I don’t know if that’s how others will react, and reflect on why they might think that way – what makes me worry that they might think that way.

It’s complicated, this writing business, done alone in shadows. Sometimes the shadows grab us, and tear us down.

But then, in saner, stiller moments, I read what I’ve written, and find myself engrossed by it, and pleased. Then I encourage myself, “There’s probably other nuts out there who like the kind of fiction you write because they share your taste in fiction.”

I hope to hell that’s true, I answer myself, but I don’t really sound convinced. I sound more like a person who left a job interview and answers, “How did it go?” with, “I think it went pretty good.”

Yeah.

Others will say, “Wow, you wrote a book. You wrote four books in that time, four books as part of one series? That’s amazing. Congratulate yourself.”

Well, yeah, that’s all nice, thanks. But that’s like getting to the Olympics and not winning a medal. See, a goal has been set. It’s not enough to write a draft, but to get it edited, published, and out there, and then have others read it, and enjoy it.

That’s the Olympic gold.

Yes, I can settle for less, but why limit myself? I’m putting time and energy into writing these novels. Yes, I’m afraid that others will not like many aspects of it, but there’s no reason for me not believe that I can’t take home the gold. Dare to dream, right? Put that dream out there in front of you, and try.

Others will say, “Hey, that’s beyond your control. You’re putting needless pressure on yourself.”

Yes, I tend to be my worst critic, that I know. (Maybe others are staying politely quiet.) I know my flaws, shortcomings, failures, and mistakes, and can rip them off without a breath to think. Plus, you know, I’m a little down with health issues affecting friends and family. That is another variable in the equation.

I’d been writing like crazy for seventy-five minutes before taking this break to gain some distance, perspective and sanity. I’m hungry, and I’m thinking about sandwiches, and pie. I’ve only drunk about twenty percent of my cup of coffee, having put my head down and fingers to the keyboard. Stop, or go on? I ponder, decreasing the amount of remaining coffee by another twenty percent.

My stomach wins. It always does.

It always gets the gold.

February 15, 2018 0

Back When

Back when I needed a new character, I cast a net for who they were. I found he was male, and a scientist. I named him Professor Kything in honor of the communication technique L’Engle employed in “A Wrinkle In Time.”

I didn’t know much about my new character. I’m an organic writer. I knew he would grow into something, but when I introduced him, he was a minor character, essentially a cardboard prop at the moment.

He grew, though, as my primary hero encountered him. As I developed a description, he became based on a person I used to work with. A senior research and development engineer, my co-worker managed to be smarmy, arrogant, and condescending in almost every encounter with me, usually with a smirk. Since my new character was evolving into a major villain, remembering this former co-worker was very helpful. He was supposed to be a deep thinker, but the certainty of his own knowledge kept him from thinking too deeply. He was dismissive of others instead of working with them to advance ideas, and he was conceited, a womanizer, and a liar.

Most of my characters aren’t based on one person. They’re typically composites of others I know (including me), so this guy, being based on one person, is different. When using composites, I generally think about how one of the composites that I know would react in the situation. That helps me stay consistent, even when the person I base them on is inconsistent and unpredictable, which translate to the same for my character and their behavior.

My cultured dislike for the fellow behind Professor Kything works well for this villain. I’m posting about him today because he was active and smug yesterday, crowing about how much smarter he is than others, and he’s going to be exposed today for the fool that he is.

Sweet.

Time to write like crazy, at least one more time.

February 11, 2018 0

The Writing Processes

I enjoy reading about other writers and their processes. I’m primarily reading for ideas that I can incorporate or adapt into my processes, but I’m also curious about others’ takes on their creative processes. I’m often amused when people insist that writers must outline, or something like that. I tried outlining; it didn’t work for me. I felt that outlining drained the fun and creativity from my writing processes.

I was thinking about this today because I reached a pivot point. Writing organically, I’m journeying without a map. I like journeying without a map. I feel like an explorer crossing a new continent. Explorers decide, “There’s the sun; we’re following this river and heading that way for now. Let’s see where it goes.” I adapt that as, “There’s the ending; we’re following this path heading that way for now. Let’s see where it goes.”

Sometimes, as accounts of explorers will tell you, wrong turns are taken. Blind paths that lead to nowhere are followed. Yet, it’s not a loss, because they’ve expanded their body of knowledge.

That happens with me and my characters, too. They take a turn none of us expected. I don’t just follow then, though. I stop and ask, “Wait a moment. Where is this going? Are we sure we want to follow this path?”

As I’m also a non-linear writer, I’ll sometimes take a few days to write about other aspects while I think over the new potential path. By non-linear, I mean that I don’t write the novel in the order that the story is told, nor in the order of its final finish. I’m usually filling in expository bridges between action scenes during these periods. Action scenes, being sharper and more intense, come quickly, like a flash flood. In fact, I call it flash writing. A sudden inspiration strikes. It follows the general sense already created, so I let the flood happen. Other flash floods often occur in sequence as these major points are seen and grasped. After writing down their essentials, I edit and polish them, add details, and make changes for coherency and consistency.

By that point, they’re raw pearls. I want a necklace. Bridge scenes help me strand them together.

Sometimes, I make huge leaps. There’s an epiphany, and I spring forward to write it before I lose it. This is when I most feel like the novel already exists, and I’m just taking dictation.

Meanwhile, I write posts like this to help me understand what I think. As I thought about this little post and wrote it, my subconscious mind thought over the new piece and offered me some tent poles.

That caused a short interlude here as I explored the tent poles. I came to see how this new piece wasn’t all that new, but a latent piece I’d previously ignored. Indeed, I’d made a small reference to it once, back in the first volume’s first quarter. I’d flash-written some scenes without thinking about how to strand them together, but subconsciously, pieces were being put together. I just needed to remain persistent, let my mind work, accept what it gave me, and go for it. That, I think, sums up the whole writing like crazy philosophy.

I’ve got my coffee. Its smell helps me focus, its caffeine stimulates my creative energies, and it’s a component of my writing session routine. Time to write like crazy, at least one more time.