I had every intention of submitting a blog post a week. I had intended to write a synopsis of my NaNo '08 novel. I had intended to write character studies of the characters from that '08 novel. I had intended to write the latest chapter of my just for fun, X-Files-inspired story-with-no-apparant-end epic. I had intended to sketch out the next chapter of my unfinished NaNo '07 project...
Instead, I read.
Sometimes intentions can be the road to a personal private hell. And sometimes they can be the road less traveled and sometimes they can be what we wanted but was never intended to be.
I've started another just-for-fun project...and I no longer feel guilty for them. All writing is practice, and, although I've not been doing what I'm meant to be doing...I am writing.
So, here is a half-baked blog post, just so I can cross an item of my "I had intended to..." list.
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Thursday, October 30, 2008
...Here be Monsters.
I love that line from Pirates of the Caribbean: "We're off the edge of the map we've made; here be monsters." (and yeah, I know it isn't original to the movie -- it was written on the unexplored margins of most maps back in the day)
I'm still reading this marvelous, humble little book called "Page after Page" and I'm in the home stretch but I've reached the absolute end of my inter-library loan abuse. The marker has been called, and I've got to return it today. So close! (Ah, well, the copy I ordered should be in the mail sometime this week.)
The last section is some good stuff, brother. I just had to come and post -- nay, I was compelled to post!
My thoughts, let me show you them.
God! Heather Sellers is so... good. That tells you nothing! -- let me dig deeper and get into some of my compost, tell you how I really feel. I have to quote from the book, directly. (Disclaimer Ahead!!) These are Ms. Sellers words, not mine:
The thing is, for me, writing is like giving birth. I've only ever attempted it once (hah! birth, not writing) -- despite having two children (first one a scheduled C-Section, the second one an emergency C-Section after being in labor for 24 hours) -- but I remember it vividly. It was hard. And it hurt like the fires of Hell. And it made me SICK and so, so tired. But I didn't even once imagine quitting. I wanted to push that baby OUT -- I wanted to break that tape as I crossed the finish line!! It was the most profound thing I've ever attempted, the pushing. As the doctors and nurses tried to pull this vital thing out of me, I vomited and peed and yes, I shat. It was ...excruciating -- the embarrassment.
Writing *is* pulling something vital from the deepest part of you with all the attendant gore -- there's sweat and blood and urine and feces and vomit and placenta and (finally) tiny, helpless, perfect (even in "imperfection") HUMAN. A whole.other.person.
Writing is swarming in all sorts of life-force vibrancy. It's also a mash of disgusting explicitness. It's... if it is anything *real*-- like LIFE itself. Life is full of dark places that we don't want to go... much less show anyone else because -- God forbid! -- they'd know we were HUMAN. And frail. And disgusting. And struggling. And noble -- sometimes. And ...worth every effort.
*THAT'S* how I see writing. It's, like my friend Robin says, really very easy. But it's also the hardest thing to make yourself do, every day -- day in and day out.
But like birthing a human... it's worth every effort.
I'm still reading this marvelous, humble little book called "Page after Page" and I'm in the home stretch but I've reached the absolute end of my inter-library loan abuse. The marker has been called, and I've got to return it today. So close! (Ah, well, the copy I ordered should be in the mail sometime this week.)
The last section is some good stuff, brother. I just had to come and post -- nay, I was compelled to post!
My thoughts, let me show you them.
God! Heather Sellers is so... good. That tells you nothing! -- let me dig deeper and get into some of my compost, tell you how I really feel. I have to quote from the book, directly. (Disclaimer Ahead!!) These are Ms. Sellers words, not mine:
Some writers, who work very hard, every day, make money off of their writing. Most, like painters and puppeteers and pianists, have other sources of income: lessons, shows, community performances. Most writers are less master and more jack-of-all-trades. It can be frustrating, but I think we like it that way. Most writers aren't terribly obnoxious or stuck-up or greedy for chic sunglasses and fancy cars. They like nice paper. Beautiful pencils. Maybe a particularly fine desk lamp or a gift certificate from a locally owned bookstore. I might be wrong, but I think most writers are going to do the work, anyway, for some other reason than fame or fortune. We are people of letters, as Janet Burroway says. We have to record what we see and what we know, in our towns and on our streets, in our families and in our daily lives. In this way, we are the opposite of fame and fortune.
The thing is, for me, writing is like giving birth. I've only ever attempted it once (hah! birth, not writing) -- despite having two children (first one a scheduled C-Section, the second one an emergency C-Section after being in labor for 24 hours) -- but I remember it vividly. It was hard. And it hurt like the fires of Hell. And it made me SICK and so, so tired. But I didn't even once imagine quitting. I wanted to push that baby OUT -- I wanted to break that tape as I crossed the finish line!! It was the most profound thing I've ever attempted, the pushing. As the doctors and nurses tried to pull this vital thing out of me, I vomited and peed and yes, I shat. It was ...excruciating -- the embarrassment.
Writing *is* pulling something vital from the deepest part of you with all the attendant gore -- there's sweat and blood and urine and feces and vomit and placenta and (finally) tiny, helpless, perfect (even in "imperfection") HUMAN. A whole.other.person.
Writing is swarming in all sorts of life-force vibrancy. It's also a mash of disgusting explicitness. It's... if it is anything *real*-- like LIFE itself. Life is full of dark places that we don't want to go... much less show anyone else because -- God forbid! -- they'd know we were HUMAN. And frail. And disgusting. And struggling. And noble -- sometimes. And ...worth every effort.
*THAT'S* how I see writing. It's, like my friend Robin says, really very easy. But it's also the hardest thing to make yourself do, every day -- day in and day out.
But like birthing a human... it's worth every effort.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Creative Juicers...
That phrase "Get the creative juices flowing" made me think of just how those juices would start flowing... And the unsavory thought struck me, "Hmmm, probably the same way we get juice from other things... by wrenching and squeezing the dang thing till we've purged it of it's last 'gettable' drop."
Sitting down to write is the precise time one would like to have those creative liquids seeping copiously and -- very often -- that's just when the mental electricity goes out and the infernal machine won't operate and the juices, alas, remain unsquozed. (it's a word, 'cause I said it is.) Of course...that's when you knuckle down and do it like Grandma did before household electricity was a given. You grab that fruit and you slice it open, and you mash it down on that weird thing that looks like a deformed, ridgy boob, and Voila! You got your juice!
Come to think of it... that pretty much nutshells the writing process in all it gory glory.
Before I put my big girl panties on and actually told people that I was a writer, and swallowed my fear and joined a Writer's group, I wrote with abandon... I wrote like it was my job. I wrote without even thinking about it. As soon as I told someone, "Why yes, I am a Writer," it appeared the well pretty much ran dry.
It reminds me of a story about faith I came across once. Here it is:
The following letter was found in a baking-powder can wired to the handle of an old pump that offered the only hope of drinking water on a very long and seldom-used trail across Nevada’s Amargosa Desert:
“This pump is all right as of June 1932. I put a new sucker washer into it and it ought to last five years. But the washer dries out and the pump has got to be primed. Under the white rock I buried a bottle of water, out of the sun and cork end up. There’s enough water in it to prime the pump, but not if you drink some first. Pour about one-fourth and let her soak to wet the leather. Then pour in the rest medium fast and pump like crazy. You’ll git water. The well has never run dry. Have faith. When you git watered up, fill the bottle and put it back like you found it for the next feller.
(signed) Desert Pete.
P.S. Don’t go drinking the water first. Prime the pump with it and you’ll git all you can hold
(Keith Miller and Bruce Larson, The Edge of Adventure)
That little buried bottle is to the pump what 'creative juicers' are to writing... My friend Diane calls them 'prompts'.
During one of our meetings, someone -- in the LIBRARY, no less (tell me, when did libraries lose that 'shhhh, please be quiet' thing? Why was I never told?) -- starts blabbing rather loudly on her cell phone during one of our 10 minute writing exercises. In the library. Where it's supposed to be a safe haven for studying. I got rather irate, "OH! the nerve --" when Diane shhsh'd me and said, "Use it: it's a prompt!" Aside from giving me a "harrunh?" moment... I actually learned something.
Everything -- every piece of stimuli our senses take in -- can be used as flint to start the fire; the creative juicer that extracts those creative juices. Every experience we have, every person we know is an opportunity to exercise that squeezing hand and extract a little prose.
Sitting down to write is the precise time one would like to have those creative liquids seeping copiously and -- very often -- that's just when the mental electricity goes out and the infernal machine won't operate and the juices, alas, remain unsquozed. (it's a word, 'cause I said it is.) Of course...that's when you knuckle down and do it like Grandma did before household electricity was a given. You grab that fruit and you slice it open, and you mash it down on that weird thing that looks like a deformed, ridgy boob, and Voila! You got your juice!
Come to think of it... that pretty much nutshells the writing process in all it gory glory.
Before I put my big girl panties on and actually told people that I was a writer, and swallowed my fear and joined a Writer's group, I wrote with abandon... I wrote like it was my job. I wrote without even thinking about it. As soon as I told someone, "Why yes, I am a Writer," it appeared the well pretty much ran dry.
It reminds me of a story about faith I came across once. Here it is:
The following letter was found in a baking-powder can wired to the handle of an old pump that offered the only hope of drinking water on a very long and seldom-used trail across Nevada’s Amargosa Desert:
“This pump is all right as of June 1932. I put a new sucker washer into it and it ought to last five years. But the washer dries out and the pump has got to be primed. Under the white rock I buried a bottle of water, out of the sun and cork end up. There’s enough water in it to prime the pump, but not if you drink some first. Pour about one-fourth and let her soak to wet the leather. Then pour in the rest medium fast and pump like crazy. You’ll git water. The well has never run dry. Have faith. When you git watered up, fill the bottle and put it back like you found it for the next feller.
(signed) Desert Pete.
P.S. Don’t go drinking the water first. Prime the pump with it and you’ll git all you can hold
(Keith Miller and Bruce Larson, The Edge of Adventure)
That little buried bottle is to the pump what 'creative juicers' are to writing... My friend Diane calls them 'prompts'.
During one of our meetings, someone -- in the LIBRARY, no less (tell me, when did libraries lose that 'shhhh, please be quiet' thing? Why was I never told?) -- starts blabbing rather loudly on her cell phone during one of our 10 minute writing exercises. In the library. Where it's supposed to be a safe haven for studying. I got rather irate, "OH! the nerve --" when Diane shhsh'd me and said, "Use it: it's a prompt!" Aside from giving me a "harrunh?" moment... I actually learned something.
Everything -- every piece of stimuli our senses take in -- can be used as flint to start the fire; the creative juicer that extracts those creative juices. Every experience we have, every person we know is an opportunity to exercise that squeezing hand and extract a little prose.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
On Goldberg's Pwnd
Some people (like some guy named Lee Goldberg) think that fanfic writers are deluded, moronic idiots with seventeen cats all named some precious, goopy name, huge fat rolls hanging off the sides of their broken down office chairs and basically nothing in their life worth living for so they seek out emotional fulfillment by STEALING SOMEONE ELSE’S BABEEEE!!!! While Mr. Goldberg and his ilk are certainly entitled to their opinion, I think t/he/y weaken their position by resorting to schoolyard tactics such as bullying and name calling.
How... precious.
Anyway... I hate cats, am out of shape but not FAAAAAAT!11! (Hello, Mr. Goldberg – Glass house and all?) I’m happy to say that my life actually is kinda good; so busy and fulfilling, in fact, that in the four years I've been "actively" writing fanfiction... I've managed to hammer out only a little over 100,000 words.... And dudes, that's like only ONE Michael Connelly book, right?
So, yeah, I write fanfic. I do it as a writing exercise... to work on the mechanics of the craft of writing, without the pressure of "Oh-my-god-I-have-to-try-and-get-this-thing-published-or-I'll-be-a-failure-GAH!!1!!!1" In other words, it relieves the competitive struggle from my brain – ie, I CAN’T have it published – and frees me to be able to simply concentrate on a specific skill set during the exercise.
My question, and it's NOT "Why is Lee Goldberg picking on me and my ficcing brethren?" Rather, it's simply "Why does he care?" What punches his buttons so furiously that he continues to flog a horse that is so dead it’s a Frenchman’s dinner? Why does he get so hot under the collar about it?
I have a theory… and it’s by no means original – I think Freud might have come up with it first, and it’s trotted out on every media fan board argument at some point – I think Mr. Goldberg reacts so viciously because he sees a little of himself in what he attacks. It’s sound psychology – we usually are harshest with the people who most remind us – subconsciously – of ourselves.
The guy writes tie-ins. So he gets paid to steal someone else’s baby. Is that like kidnapping, kinda? Oh, wait – it’s sanctioned by the creator, right? I guess it’s alright to be a hack and come up with alternate scenarios for someone else’s creation if yousell your soul to them first sign a deal with them to shill their product.
Whatever; like I said, I’m supportive of his right to have an opinion. The button-pushing that drove me to rant about it, is that Mr. Goldberg is the beneficiary of some old-school nepotism and the people – like Naomi Novik, a ‘lowly’ ficcer who “Made It” – whom he attacks so vehemently, AFAIK, specifically aren’t. He and his compadres “Made It” through connections (read: relationships) to those already there. Ms. Novik made it…uh, because some power broker…uh… liked her writing…? Is it because Ms. Novik created an entire universe out of her imagination and, uh, is actually successful at it, while Goldberg (mostly) writes tie-ins for…uhm… teevee shows? Ahem. I’m sorry. I can’t resist laughing …just a little.
So, yeah… rant on, Mr. Goldberg and friends. We all know what you look like – being the beneficiary of some blood-line connections in the writing world – attacking a woman who successfully took her hobby and made something original.
Here’s another psychological principle for you, Mr. Goldberg. Most people when threatened by something they perceive as better than they will react one of two ways: they will either attack it (so, so tacky)…or they will compensate by substituting something for their own inadequacies.
Oh-oh-oh, I know! Why don’t you get a really fast, souped-up sports car?
How... precious.
Anyway... I hate cats, am out of shape but not FAAAAAAT!11! (Hello, Mr. Goldberg – Glass house and all?) I’m happy to say that my life actually is kinda good; so busy and fulfilling, in fact, that in the four years I've been "actively" writing fanfiction... I've managed to hammer out only a little over 100,000 words.... And dudes, that's like only ONE Michael Connelly book, right?
So, yeah, I write fanfic. I do it as a writing exercise... to work on the mechanics of the craft of writing, without the pressure of "Oh-my-god-I-have-to-try-and-get-this-thing-published-or-I'll-be-a-failure-GAH!!1!!!1" In other words, it relieves the competitive struggle from my brain – ie, I CAN’T have it published – and frees me to be able to simply concentrate on a specific skill set during the exercise.
My question, and it's NOT "Why is Lee Goldberg picking on me and my ficcing brethren?" Rather, it's simply "Why does he care?" What punches his buttons so furiously that he continues to flog a horse that is so dead it’s a Frenchman’s dinner? Why does he get so hot under the collar about it?
I have a theory… and it’s by no means original – I think Freud might have come up with it first, and it’s trotted out on every media fan board argument at some point – I think Mr. Goldberg reacts so viciously because he sees a little of himself in what he attacks. It’s sound psychology – we usually are harshest with the people who most remind us – subconsciously – of ourselves.
The guy writes tie-ins. So he gets paid to steal someone else’s baby. Is that like kidnapping, kinda? Oh, wait – it’s sanctioned by the creator, right? I guess it’s alright to be a hack and come up with alternate scenarios for someone else’s creation if you
Whatever; like I said, I’m supportive of his right to have an opinion. The button-pushing that drove me to rant about it, is that Mr. Goldberg is the beneficiary of some old-school nepotism and the people – like Naomi Novik, a ‘lowly’ ficcer who “Made It” – whom he attacks so vehemently, AFAIK, specifically aren’t. He and his compadres “Made It” through connections (read: relationships) to those already there. Ms. Novik made it…uh, because some power broker…uh… liked her writing…? Is it because Ms. Novik created an entire universe out of her imagination and, uh, is actually successful at it, while Goldberg (mostly) writes tie-ins for…uhm… teevee shows?
So, yeah… rant on, Mr. Goldberg and friends. We all know what you look like – being the beneficiary of some blood-line connections in the writing world – attacking a woman who successfully took her hobby and made something original.
Here’s another psychological principle for you, Mr. Goldberg. Most people when threatened by something they perceive as better than they will react one of two ways: they will either attack it (so, so tacky)…or they will compensate by substituting something for their own inadequacies.
Oh-oh-oh, I know! Why don’t you get a really fast, souped-up sports car?
Friday, March 30, 2007
So... Blogger is Google, now?
My, how things change. Google will one day rule the world... Bwahahahahaha.
Couldn't get into my blog, because I'd forgotten my password. Figures. You try to come up with a password that can't be hacked, and it's so good, you can't remember it yourself. Now, THAT's irony, Alannis.
From now on, I'm going to stop being coy, and just embrace the fact that I'm a writer. I'm not going to go around calling myself a fledgling writer, or a wanna-be writer or an unpublished writer (all of which are true...well, except for the last one, if you consider college publications.) From now on, I'm simply going to say, i am... a WRITER. --period-
Mostly, I'm writing fanfiction (yeah, laff it up) because I'm able to just experiment with an already created universe, concentrating on plot, dialogue and characterization. Right now, I'm in the middle of a WIP of colossal proportions based on the X-Files. It's mostly paralleling canon, but I'm trying to weave a wicked AU relationship between Scully and Krycek. This caught me some flak, at first -- a couple of ugly posts telling me, basically, to SHUT UP! SCULLY LURVES MULDER!!! KRYCEKS A LOSER!1!!!1 (hee) But mostly the reception has been very gracious.
It's funny, I used to be so into Mulder and Scully -- I never thought they should be romantic (their relationship transcended the merely sexual, imo) but I got kind of MAD at Duchovny with all his "I'm staying/ I'm going" bs... and I thought, Go! Don't let the door hit ya, ya ingrate!
And besides... Nick Lea is so beautiful it hurts to look at him.
So, yeah. Obsession + passive aggression = I want to make my Scully and Krycek action figures (snigger) do it. So sue me.
DISCLAIMER!!! I don't own the characters, and am making no (michael) muhney (another minor obsession) on them!!111!!1
Hee -- that always makes me laugh. Like anyone writing fanfiction would ever actually cut into the profit margin of the Big Brother(s). I know the disclaimers are a necessary evil, but they STILL make me laugh.
What? A point? Oh, yeah.
Okay, things I've learned from writing fanfiction:
1) Write something every day. Even if it's a sentance that you backspace through a hundred times. Writing takes metaphorical muscles -- if you don't exercise them, they will atrophy. NO, really. Be Nike. Just do it.
2) Try to write the stuff that pleases YOU -- not your readers. It's not being selfish; you only know your own tastes -- what makes you sit up and take notice -- and, chances are, there are others out there who enjoy the same things you do (otherwise, there'd be no Nielson Ratings) Instead of trying to figure out what will draw readers, write what would draw you. Remember Field of Dreams? If you write it (and you like it) they will come.
3) Have a 'spot' that you write in -- it can literally be the same seat at the dining room table, size doesn't matter. But, it's important to have it, and stake your claim on it: "THIS... is my writing spot!"
4) When you're writing (fiction, especially) get into the head of your primary character. In your mind's eye, take a few moments to visualize the scene you will be writing; see what your POV character sees, and describe it. It's that simple. And that hard. Because the trick is ---
5) ...try to describe it as succinctly as possible. (something that's really hitting home with my current X-Files fic, lemme tell ya... ) The more tight the writing (especially in action-driven fiction) the more the reader is drawn in and will be caught up in the writing.
6) Spell check, spell check, spell check. It should be like a mantra, man. Nothing takes someone out of the moment of your story quicker than baad spillink.
7) Accept constructive criticism gracefully. Let me go further -- encourage it, court it, solicit it. I like strokes... a LOT; who doesn't? But, sadly, strokes don't help me improve my writing. (although... they do inspire more writing...)
8) Read other good writers. Shamelessly copy them. NO -- don't steal their words (plagarism is NEVER cool)... but learn from them, imitate them (it's the best form of flattery) and try out their different styles. Always with the mind toward, finally, finding your own.
9) Try to get an objective person to read it before you post it -- a Beta reader. You are too close to your own writing, and sometimes -- like a doting parent with an unruly child -- can't always see the faults that need correcting which would stare the less-involved Beta in the face. It can only help.
10) Even if you do have a Beta tell you, "Cut this entire paragraph!" and it's something that you feel reeaally needs to be included? Trust your gut. You, after all are the crafter of that little slice of heaven... and if it's something you feel strongly about, keep it.
11) Sometimes, the chapter you're working on just ...isn't happenin'. Don't sweat it. Try writing a future chapter, or reworking an old one, or just go back and read older chapters to get back into the timeline you've established. Or, you know, take your dog for a walk, or shoot baskets with your kid... Don't, absolutely DON'T fear the Writer's Block. It happens, yes. But like with most things -- it, too, shall pass. Don't give up on your passion. If you do? You will live to regret it.
So, that is what I've learned, so far. It's been a wonderful, frustrating, enlightening, frightening thoroughly rapturous journey.
Till next time --
Couldn't get into my blog, because I'd forgotten my password. Figures. You try to come up with a password that can't be hacked, and it's so good, you can't remember it yourself. Now, THAT's irony, Alannis.
From now on, I'm going to stop being coy, and just embrace the fact that I'm a writer. I'm not going to go around calling myself a fledgling writer, or a wanna-be writer or an unpublished writer (all of which are true...well, except for the last one, if you consider college publications.) From now on, I'm simply going to say, i am... a WRITER. --period-
Mostly, I'm writing fanfiction (yeah, laff it up) because I'm able to just experiment with an already created universe, concentrating on plot, dialogue and characterization. Right now, I'm in the middle of a WIP of colossal proportions based on the X-Files. It's mostly paralleling canon, but I'm trying to weave a wicked AU relationship between Scully and Krycek. This caught me some flak, at first -- a couple of ugly posts telling me, basically, to SHUT UP! SCULLY LURVES MULDER!!! KRYCEKS A LOSER!1!!!1 (hee) But mostly the reception has been very gracious.
It's funny, I used to be so into Mulder and Scully -- I never thought they should be romantic (their relationship transcended the merely sexual, imo) but I got kind of MAD at Duchovny with all his "I'm staying/ I'm going" bs... and I thought, Go! Don't let the door hit ya, ya ingrate!
And besides... Nick Lea is so beautiful it hurts to look at him.
So, yeah. Obsession + passive aggression = I want to make my Scully and Krycek action figures (snigger) do it. So sue me.
DISCLAIMER!!! I don't own the characters, and am making no (michael) muhney (another minor obsession) on them!!111!!1
Hee -- that always makes me laugh. Like anyone writing fanfiction would ever actually cut into the profit margin of the Big Brother(s). I know the disclaimers are a necessary evil, but they STILL make me laugh.
What? A point? Oh, yeah.
Okay, things I've learned from writing fanfiction:
1) Write something every day. Even if it's a sentance that you backspace through a hundred times. Writing takes metaphorical muscles -- if you don't exercise them, they will atrophy. NO, really. Be Nike. Just do it.
2) Try to write the stuff that pleases YOU -- not your readers. It's not being selfish; you only know your own tastes -- what makes you sit up and take notice -- and, chances are, there are others out there who enjoy the same things you do (otherwise, there'd be no Nielson Ratings) Instead of trying to figure out what will draw readers, write what would draw you. Remember Field of Dreams? If you write it (and you like it) they will come.
3) Have a 'spot' that you write in -- it can literally be the same seat at the dining room table, size doesn't matter. But, it's important to have it, and stake your claim on it: "THIS... is my writing spot!"
4) When you're writing (fiction, especially) get into the head of your primary character. In your mind's eye, take a few moments to visualize the scene you will be writing; see what your POV character sees, and describe it. It's that simple. And that hard. Because the trick is ---
5) ...try to describe it as succinctly as possible. (something that's really hitting home with my current X-Files fic, lemme tell ya... ) The more tight the writing (especially in action-driven fiction) the more the reader is drawn in and will be caught up in the writing.
6) Spell check, spell check, spell check. It should be like a mantra, man. Nothing takes someone out of the moment of your story quicker than baad spillink.
7) Accept constructive criticism gracefully. Let me go further -- encourage it, court it, solicit it. I like strokes... a LOT; who doesn't? But, sadly, strokes don't help me improve my writing. (although... they do inspire more writing...)
8) Read other good writers. Shamelessly copy them. NO -- don't steal their words (plagarism is NEVER cool)... but learn from them, imitate them (it's the best form of flattery) and try out their different styles. Always with the mind toward, finally, finding your own.
9) Try to get an objective person to read it before you post it -- a Beta reader. You are too close to your own writing, and sometimes -- like a doting parent with an unruly child -- can't always see the faults that need correcting which would stare the less-involved Beta in the face. It can only help.
10) Even if you do have a Beta tell you, "Cut this entire paragraph!" and it's something that you feel reeaally needs to be included? Trust your gut. You, after all are the crafter of that little slice of heaven... and if it's something you feel strongly about, keep it.
11) Sometimes, the chapter you're working on just ...isn't happenin'. Don't sweat it. Try writing a future chapter, or reworking an old one, or just go back and read older chapters to get back into the timeline you've established. Or, you know, take your dog for a walk, or shoot baskets with your kid... Don't, absolutely DON'T fear the Writer's Block. It happens, yes. But like with most things -- it, too, shall pass. Don't give up on your passion. If you do? You will live to regret it.
So, that is what I've learned, so far. It's been a wonderful, frustrating, enlightening, frightening thoroughly rapturous journey.
Till next time --
Sunday, September 03, 2006
On Fanfic
Oy.
First of all, I'm just going to say that I write what is in my head. I'm not a great writer, but that's good; I've got a goal that way, see?
Secondly, I get bored easily by the same old, same old, and my mind wanders to the different avenues, the little back streets, the messy little greasy spoons, precisely because they are the road less traveled.
When you're writing in a forum which is open to eeeevvvverrrryyybody and their brother, you are gonna get all kinds of stuff -- or you should, anyway. And all I was seeing was the same stuff over, and over, and over. I envision something...else.
My name at the forum is the same as here. And I'm not that prolific -- I've only got two stories -- one that is basically abandoned, and one that I just started. Both were based on popular shows... One, a dinosaur that's still limping along on the N_ _ network, and one that put Fox (both of them) on the collective consciousness's map. I cherish my stories, y'all, because writing is a dream that detoured in my life, and something that I am compelled to do... like breathing, right?
If I think the former nurse turned doctor and the rich boy doc who feels called to Africa really, truly belong together... and I write it in my little fanfic and that bugs.. well, you're entitled to be bugged, but get over it. I watched it faithfully, and that is what I thought should happen. If the powers didn't exactly agree with me, so what. Their's is a money game, so I understand. Gotta squeeze that teet as long as the cow is still standing, right?
If I think the dirty double agent who doesn't like to be discarded like somebody's bad prom date (and -- what a shame -- lost one of those enormously attractive arms) and the inscrutible doc from Quantico with the creamy skin turned alien chaser make for more interesting possibilities in my little passion play, who CARES? The show has been in the can for FOUR YEARS. The double agent doesn't even talk about his time shillin' for the mytharc anymore and the inscrutible, beautiful doc with the delicate skin is busy setting up housekeeping in London and doing stage plays. Meanwhile the Favored One, the Agent everyone loves best, the one everyone thinks the lady doc should have ended up with is busy parody-ing Agent Fox, painting charity pictures with his butt aided by his very, very funny wife and enjoying being a dad.
I don't think my doofy little fanfic is bothering any of them, really.
So every.single.person.writing.x-f fanfic thinks MSR is a religion... I don't. Never did. Can't make me see it that way... (oh, yeah -- here's more treachery: it ended for me at the foxy one's disappearance. The truth wasn't out there after Season 7)
Besides, it's so much more fun when there's lots of variety.
So, as far as my stress-busting creative pursuits are concerned, Bad boy double agent? you go for it, boy -- enough skulls, get you some skully in your closet.
And Doctor Former Nurse, if you're going to stay with the Croatian, get him to lighten up.
First of all, I'm just going to say that I write what is in my head. I'm not a great writer, but that's good; I've got a goal that way, see?
Secondly, I get bored easily by the same old, same old, and my mind wanders to the different avenues, the little back streets, the messy little greasy spoons, precisely because they are the road less traveled.
When you're writing in a forum which is open to eeeevvvverrrryyybody and their brother, you are gonna get all kinds of stuff -- or you should, anyway. And all I was seeing was the same stuff over, and over, and over. I envision something...else.
My name at the forum is the same as here. And I'm not that prolific -- I've only got two stories -- one that is basically abandoned, and one that I just started. Both were based on popular shows... One, a dinosaur that's still limping along on the N_ _ network, and one that put Fox (both of them) on the collective consciousness's map. I cherish my stories, y'all, because writing is a dream that detoured in my life, and something that I am compelled to do... like breathing, right?
If I think the former nurse turned doctor and the rich boy doc who feels called to Africa really, truly belong together... and I write it in my little fanfic and that bugs.. well, you're entitled to be bugged, but get over it. I watched it faithfully, and that is what I thought should happen. If the powers didn't exactly agree with me, so what. Their's is a money game, so I understand. Gotta squeeze that teet as long as the cow is still standing, right?
If I think the dirty double agent who doesn't like to be discarded like somebody's bad prom date (and -- what a shame -- lost one of those enormously attractive arms) and the inscrutible doc from Quantico with the creamy skin turned alien chaser make for more interesting possibilities in my little passion play, who CARES? The show has been in the can for FOUR YEARS. The double agent doesn't even talk about his time shillin' for the mytharc anymore and the inscrutible, beautiful doc with the delicate skin is busy setting up housekeeping in London and doing stage plays. Meanwhile the Favored One, the Agent everyone loves best, the one everyone thinks the lady doc should have ended up with is busy parody-ing Agent Fox, painting charity pictures with his butt aided by his very, very funny wife and enjoying being a dad.
I don't think my doofy little fanfic is bothering any of them, really.
So every.single.person.writing.x-f fanfic thinks MSR is a religion... I don't. Never did. Can't make me see it that way... (oh, yeah -- here's more treachery: it ended for me at the foxy one's disappearance. The truth wasn't out there after Season 7)
Besides, it's so much more fun when there's lots of variety.
So, as far as my stress-busting creative pursuits are concerned, Bad boy double agent? you go for it, boy -- enough skulls, get you some skully in your closet.
And Doctor Former Nurse, if you're going to stay with the Croatian, get him to lighten up.
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