The Sound of Pen on Paper

Or, more accurately, the sound of the keys on my old keyboard.

While there's been a lot of keyboard clicks lately, there have not, however, been words added to any piece of fiction for over 2 months now. I'm kind of embarrassed to admit it, especially since I've always been a big proponent of writing regularly, even if it's only a little bit.

I have reasons and excuses. Some are physical-- such the time-sucking adventure that is known as homeownership. Some are mental-- such as a crippling wave of low self-confidence.

I miss writing. I miss Bo Fexler. I am continually hoping to get more writing in, one way or the other. I know I need to improve my habits, get into a better routine, and make progress, even if it's only little bits. Next semester I have a different schedule, which I'm hoping will afford me just a little more time-- the time needed, I hope, to return to writing as a habit.

I have some new ideas for improving the novel I'm in the middle of. Things that will straighten out a few niggling problems.

But more than hope is needed-- I must make that push, that change and begin to write again. It's the only way that Bo Fexler will see print.

The mystery book section needs some shaking up-- some one modern and appealing to younger readers. Something new and different. Maybe I'm concieted, but I think the mystery book section needs some young, hot women running around. And I've got one just waiting for her chance. As soon as I finish an acceptable first novel.

Novels don't write themselves, though, anymore than dishes wash themselves or clothes hang themselves in the closet.

Indentification

Apparently, I'm the odd one out.

Again.

Apparently, most readers want to follow a character who they can identify with. One who shares flaws or fears with them. One who is like them in some ways.

I don't. When I read, I want to escape. If I wanted to be reminded of my own shit, I wouldn't be reading. I'd be pretending to deal with my own shit. The only trait I like to share with the characters is that of self-sufficiency or competence.

I read to escape. For a little voyeurism. To get into someone else's life, skin, and flaws. To get away from my own.

I've no interest in a story revolving around a teacher. I've watched some of those feel-good teacher-changes-the-world movies and they just leave me flat. I'm not likely to be changing the world. I will change individual lives and that's the best I hope for. I'll never get my motley crew of students to all ace the ACT (or Michigan Merit Exam) next go-round. Hell, I'm lucky if I can get them to read three whole novels in the course of a semester.

I don't want to read about failed relationships or people who only whine about their failed lives and poor choices. I want to read about action, adventure, mystery, and other people getting by in life. I prefer stories where people are doing at least okay in their lives, not fucking it up.

Now, either I just write it poorly, or what I write just doesn't go over with the average reader. I know that I'm not including these fatal flaws-- though Bo does have some pretty serious flaws-- but I also don't dump them out at the beginning of the book. It's not a massive bitch-fest about how horrible her life has been.

Like me, Bo has a tendency to focus on what she can and will deal with now. She doesn't spend much time lamenting what happened before. She focuses on the her work, current problems, and honestly, tries to avoid spending much time on things she can't deal with-- her past. Maybe this just doesn't (or hasn't) translated to the page well.

But I'm still getting feedback-- occasionally-- that deals with this issue. And I'm not sure how to reconcile it. Do I try to write is as people expect or do I hold fast to my vision of Bo. Do I write for readers or for myself. It's a tough choice. I'm still going to pretend I can do a little from column A and a little from column B.

And it may just mean it takes longer to get published. Good thing I have this cushy teaching job... oh, wait. There's nothing cushy about it. Damn.

Battle of the Distractions!

Usually, I just putter around the internet between scenes or sentences, depending on how well the writing is going. I go through the normal sites, and sitting in my field of vision, my novel waits in another window. That little reminder is enough to keep me going back and trying to work, even if it's just a little at a time.

TV watching is a different matter for me. I'll put shows on with the intention of half-watching while I work. I usually pick shows that are fairly formulaic or, better yet, reruns so I'm less liable to be distracted. That's the theory.

The reality is that I put my feet up, and watch more than I work. It's always "one more show" or at the next commercial. But commercial breaks are for attending to nature or skipping since I have a DCR now. So, I watch "just a little more." It's a lot harder for me to stay focused on my writing with the TV on than to sit on the computer.

As writers, we all have our own particular brand of overpowering distractions. For some people, the internet may as well be from planet Krypton. For others, every little chore and or household task is more compelling than a story waiting to be written. Work, family obligations, even writing-related tasks such as character sketches, outlines, setting notes, and so forth are all great ways to avoid writing.

In spite of the TV... and the ugly heat and humidity, I did put on 4.5k words in the last two days. I'm calling for a partial victory over distractions on that one.

Clearly, heat... and TV are my Kryptonite. What's your worst distraction? And how do you bullshit yourself into indulging anyway?

The Sound of Keys Not Typing

Well... it happened. I've stalled. Partly from a busy weekend, what with social gatherings on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. That alone is enough to wear me out. Plus the usual collection of chores and weekend projects. And I just didn't even open the document with my current WIP.

Blah, blah, blah. It's all excuses.

If I'd really wanted to, I would have found time to work on my novel. The fact is that I'm kind of frustrated. I don't like that Bo's voice is missing from much of the story, and I'm having trouble putting it in, even during this last batch of revisions. I also keep running into scenes that are damned hard to write.

It's making me cranky.

But, I'm done with excuses. Tonight, after Hubby has gone to bed, when the night is quiet and still, I will saddle back up and get back to work.

Besides, if I'm writing, that means I have a good excuse for not cleaning the basement or washing windows or digging another drainage trench or trimming the bushes or...

I've Been Here Before...

Every writer has their particular trouble spots. Some writers revise the beginning.

I tend to keep my beginnings. My pattern is to get to the climax without much trouble. Then, I tend to stop for a while, gathering my wits (ha!) and figuring out the best way to end the story. I'll write an ending. Then, let it stew for awhile. Depending on my gut feeling about the story as a whole, I may revise the beginning part, may even send the story off to my beta reader.

Sometimes, the end part stays. But, more off than not, I trash the ending and write a whole new version, from climax (or shortly thereafter) to final line. It's not so bad in a short story. But scrapping the end of a novel is rough. That's, like, nearly 20k words!

I'm hoping, now that I've just strutted past the 50k mark in the current Bo Fexler novel, that I won't do what I usually do. But, chances are pretty good that I will still be me. And I will probably end up writing the ending of the current novel twice. It's a little discouraging at this point.

I've tried plotting out the end, then writing it. I've tried waiting a few days to let the idea gestate before putting it down. But time and time again, it doesn't matter. I have to write the ending twice. At least.

Do you have any such writing quirks?

Pushing On Anyway

I don't believe in writer's block. I've never suffered from writer's block. I have, however, anguished with indecision, gotten bored with what I was writing, and even gotten stuck because I was forcing characters or plots the wrong way. These I can fix-- writer's block is a nebulous idea with no real solution. (To fix the problem, treat the cause, not the symptoms.)

My solution to these writerly problems is to keep working on the story. Sometimes, I'm not sure what exactly the problem is with the story. But I press on regardless. I may plot, scratching out new ideas, new plot points on scrap paper or at the end of the document. I may keep writing, churning out words and scenes that, hopefully, will be right for the story. Often in this, as I explore the characters and situations, I get a flash of insight into where the story needs to go. But I keep at it.

Why?

Why not?

The story ain't gonna finish itself. There are no story fairies that'll come in the night. (No Dish Fairies either, dammit.) Some people swear by letting an idea ferment. Maybe that works for them... I rarely get ideas for how to fix/ finish a story UNLESS I'm thinking about it with some sort of regularity or intensity. Just waiting doesn't solve problems for me, be they in fiction or elsewhere.

And on this note, I am happy to say that finally, I wrote the end of 'Bosom Buddies.' Again. Fourteen scrapped versions. Today alone saw the deletion of more than 1200 words, written only last night. As soon as I stopped writing last night, I knew in my little writer heart that what I had written needed to be excicesd. That came this morning, replaced with a new idea and 830 new words.

This damned story has vexed me for the better part of a year. I wrote it, but didn't like the climax. It was forced and put Bo in a position that I didn't like her in. So, I poked at it, rewrote it, edited it, restarted it, added, deleted, put it away, took it out, swore at it, swore about, and kept at it. Never once did I even entertain the thought of not finishing this story. I hate unfinished projects more than I hate giggly, vapid girls.

I spent most of the afternoon utterly delirious with delight at finishing the story. There's still a nagging worry that I've not pulled it off, likely because I've spent so long being frustrated over this story, that has tainted my perception of it. As soon as I'm up to it, I'll reread the story, then begin the process of preparing and seeking publication for this piece of work.

Even though this story has been damned hard to write, I am so very glad I kept with it. It makes the success (of merely finishing) that much greater.

Now, onto the next project.

Excuses, exscuses

It's fascinating to me, when amongst a group of writers, to hear the creativity at work. How many different ways can people find to excuse or explain why they can't or didn't write.

It echoes a similar trend in society as why everything is not my fault.

But writers are the most creative, I think. Unfortunate mischanneling of energy.
Can't write because Word has too many features.
Or because the computer has internet access, that's too distracting.
Can't write because I'll edit.
Or because the house is a mess, but that's not my fault either-- it's just too overwhelming.

All valid reasons. Valid excuses.

But at some point, I think, a writer has to realize that they are making excuses. It's not the internet's fault or the sun's fault for being in the wrong place in the sky or even Word's fault. It's the writer coming up with roadblocks.

The first step in overcoming a problem is identifying it.

Now that the new semester is in swing, I have far fewer excuses of my own. And I'm back to writing. Not as much as I could. And that's my own fault. It has nothing to do with the internet... that's a symptom of a very different problem. The problem is, for the most part, that I don't want to write something bad. (This is compounded when I don't like where the story is going.) But this is all on me.

I can't-- I WON'T-- blame anyone or anything else. As tempting as it may be... ;-)
Except maybe Hubby...

Before and After the Beginning

Like most short stories there is a lot of information that I need to know that does not need to be in the story. For example, with just about any Bo Fexler mystery, I need to know who her client is, what the investigation entails, and what conflict Bo's going to face. I don't usually know these all at the beginning of the story since I tend to start with a spark of an idea and just hope that the flame spreads to the rest of the pages.

Because I need to figure out the client and the case, I often end up starting at that point. Sometimes it's the client meeting, sometimes it's an info dump early in the story. But, as you my dear readers have clearly seen, these things are not often present in the final draft. I pick a new starting point. Something, hopefully, far more interesting.

I fell out of short story writing for quite a spell there. There were a few pieces, here and there, but mostly I had just been polishing up and finishing older stories. As I started writing again, I recalled that I used to actually write the backstory into the narrative. Which was part of the reason why, once upon a time (believe it or not) I used to be convinced that I could not write short stories. Then I learned how to edit.

For some reason, for a spell here, I've been averse to the idea of having to edit the stuffing out of my stories. I was struggling with trying to just not write the extra fluff. But I think that's just the sort of writer I am. I am not an outliner... every time I outline something, when I actually start writing one or seven characters will go and say something they were never supposed to. (I'm not crazy, I'm a writer. There's a slight difference, honest!) So, now that I realize that I am what I yam, the words come easier. Many of them will be cut and prune, reshaped until the overgrown hedge resembles a dolphin (or a phallus).

But the good news is that I am now learning to accept the type of writer I am. It goes along with my long time acceptance of my procrastination, my ever-messy-office, and the fact that I am nocturnal. These things just are. I may as well accept and embrace them.

No Pressure? Ha!

Like many writers, I am my own worst enemy. I write and delete, write and delete, fret and pull out my hair. Good thing I have extra hair.

I've been making something that almost looks like progress on Novel #2, but I keep having trouble with the fear of writing crap. Sometimes, particularly in the early days of a novel or story, I just write and see where the story takes me. But once there's some semblance of something salvagable, I seize like an engine without motor oil. I can't write crap because that wouldn't be worth writing. What?

Sometimes, I push myself anyway and find that these fingers are capable of writing not-crap. But the fear of writing something I'm only going have to undo or redo is causing some serious slow-downs in writing.

I've been gutting, filleting, and redoing Novel #2(but not starting over and somehow that's important. Look, if I wasn't a head case, I could hardly be a writer!). In this process of redoing so much of it, I can't seem to force myself to write just anything. My fingers resist. And then they go clicky-clicky over to the internet. =/

I've been noticing how my writing habits wax and wane with phases of the moon. A period of good writing makes me want to write more. A drought... and I spend a lot of time in the kitchen looking for ways to break the drought. So far, I've not had any great inspiration in the kitchen, but one never knows.

Too much pressure to write. I've got to find a way to get past this. NaNoWriMo's coming up, which should help. (Yes, I can be counted amongst the foolish! Fourth year now.) In the mean time, does anyone has any ideas to get some of the pressure of myself? Writing is supposed to be fun, both the good and the bad.

GOOD NIGHT MOON

I wrote this as an example for a project in my English 9 class. With credit due to author Margaret Wise Brown.

Goodnight room
Goodnight moon
Goodnight CD with my favorite tune

Goodnight desk
Goodnight chair
Goodnight floor that is never bare

Goodnight boxes
Goodnight totes
Goodnight ideas hastily scrawled on notes


Goodnight paper
Goodnight pen
Goodnight story I don't know how to end

Goodnight office
Goodnight mess
Goodnight plot issues I need to address

Goodnight cups
Goodnight clock
Goodnight to another bout of writer's block

(Which also explains why I haven't done much writing.=)