the story behind the story

I’m published!

And about damn time – I’ve been writing about writing for the past 7 years but didn’t have a scrap of fiction to share…until now.

Some context: the latest round of edits on Fool’s Gold slowed (further) over the summer due to burnout. I needed to get the creative juices flowing again, and what better way than with a short story? Something with a simpler plot and less time/emotional investment.

When I stumbled over evidence that Rudolf II had a pair of Mexican hairless dogs in his extensive menagerie I couldn’t resist playing with the notion of a yipping lapdog that turned out to be more than it appeared.

I queried through the fall. Of twelve publications, six rejected me, five didn’t reply, and one accepted. This, I gather, is par for the course. Persistence really does pay off!

My put-upon animal trader, Janek, is entirely made up. And goddamn, it was freeing to write a fully fictional character! No timelines or documentation to work around! I based his curmudgeonly attitude on Rowan Atkinson’s character Edmund Blackadder, a long-suffering servant to idiotic royals in a series of 80s British comedies. My logline for “The Zolo Hound of the Newly Found World” was “Blackadder runs a zoo”.

Laurenciana Pylmannova, however, was completely real. What little I could find of her was fascinating and still left me enough room to make up a personality.

Please read and let me know what you think, either here or over at Tall Tale TV.

Janek and Laurenciana WILL return, along with Felipe.

the root of the problem

So, I’m editing again.

Or rather, still editing, just limping along a little faster than I have over the past few months. I manage to hammer out a chapter or two a week and if I can get out of my own way I can probably (probably!) finish this fourth draft by fall.

About that getting out of my own way thing.

iPhone Screen: Your Anxiety is calling you - slide to answer

I could pretend it’s just lack of energy that’s been holding me up, but at least part of it is fear. If I finish the draft, then I’ll have no excuse but to start querying again and I fear wasting the one pitch I get to every agent on my list with a manuscript that is less than perfect.

Nebula from Guardians of the Galaxy spitting out some food - it's not ripe
How I imagine agents reacting to my manuscript.

In short, it’s not being told “no” that I fear. It’s running out of opportunities to ask for a “yes”. As long as I don’t query I can luxuriate in possibility. And yes, typing it out makes it sound just as nail-bitey and tail-chasey as it is.

So I’m going to keep propping up the novel’s saggy middle so I get it back out in the world.

how to (not) get all the things done

Late last year I asked for blog post suggestions and got a request for one on How To Get All The Things Done.

frowning stick figure: *all* the things?
Via.

Which is a good question and an “old standard” topic on creative-oriented blogs and podcasts. This subject comes up time and time again because it’s a huge issue. Most ordinary mortals* have day jobs, partners, children, hobbies and/or other things I’ve not thought of that they have to balance with their creative work.

And honestly, most of them have answered this question better than I’m about to. I am so disorganized I’d forget my own name if it weren’t stenciled on the back of my fencing lamé. You’re better off asking creatives who are also mothers of small children. They have to be self-discipline and organizational ninjas in order to get a full night’s sleep, let alone anything else.

No, my big secret is that I don’t do All of the Things.

In fairness, I’m in a good position to avoid some Things. I don’t have children, for one. I also have a partner that is respectful of my time and ambitions and doesn’t get too upset if I don’t fold the laundry**. I make enough money that I can have a cleaner come in once a month so I’m not spending (as much) time on housework. This partly deliberate and partly good luck. I’m aware others may not have the advantages I have.

I’ve also made my peace with knowing that I can do, if not ALL the Things, then more of the Things…eventually. Just not all at once. My time and energy levels permit two non-day job activities. I fence because I love it and because exercise keeps the anxiety demons at bay. Of my other current passions, I can sew or write, but can’t do both.

So I’ve not sewn anything in over a year. I imagine that as writing becomes more job than hobby it will be even longer than that. But there’s always time between books, or waiting for edits, or…something. I’ll figure it out.

And I have a lot of other interests that I’ve set aside for an undetermined later time. Maybe I’ll make jewelry to go with a really great dress. Maybe if I blow out my knees I’ll take up archery***. Maybe I’ll take up painting again at some point.

All the more reason to fence – to keep myself in good enough health that I stand a chance of getting to all the things I’m interested in.

So I guess I’d recommend prioritization and a realistic assessment of what you can do in 24 hours to make sure you don’t bite off more than you can chew. And take the long view – you may not be doing something you love right this minute, but maybe in a few years you can carve out a few hours.

What about you? How do you balance your creative impulses with everyday needs?

*The J.K. Rowlings and Stephen Kings of the world are among the few writers who can make a full-time, profitable living from writing. The rest of us have to pay the bills some other way.

**I do wash my clothes! I’m not an utter slob. And if I didn’t I’d suffocate in a cloud of cat hair. The clothes just don’t always make it into dressers and closets.

***Who am I kidding, I’ll start wheelchair fencing!

what’s my motivation?

I’m writing a short story. The premise of “chupacabra in Rudolf II’s court” just wouldn’t leave me alone. So I thought I’d tame the plot bunny, practice writing an (original) short story, and work out my writing muscles between books*.

But when I sat down to write it I couldn’t make it go anywhere. I described the setting. I described the chupacabra. I walked my protagonist and the chupacabra through different scenarios. I even tried naming them**. I couldn’t get any of it to cohere into something resembling a plot.

So I turned to Oblique Strategies, a card deck/randomizer developed by Brian Eno in the 1970s to help him unwind creative snags. I got “Remove ambiguities and convert to specifics”.  Frustratingly vague, but enough to shatter my rigid mind.

So I noodled with specific mannerisms for my protagonist: rubbing his eyes, tugging his doublet, smoothing his (thinning hair). But what in his personality would make him do any of these?

Is he tired? Fussy about his clothing (or does it not fit)? Why do I imagine him with thinning hair? Why do I imagine him as a “he”***?

Ryan Reynolds in scrubs saying

So that got me thinking about his personality, and what would lead someone of his inclinations and situation to rub his eyes, smooth his clothes, and drag a potentially deadly creature across Europe to give to an Emperor.

Which gets into backstory, because why would anyone travel with a chupacabra (threats? Prestige? Serious money? A death wish?) Which brought me back to:

The story is always about people (or aliens/animals/something standing in for people) and what motivates them, and how they act in situations they encounter or seek out. I couldn’t begin to get at a plot until I had at least some idea of character.

So now the story is moving along, if not perfectly at least better.

Don’t know what I’ll finally do with this thing – maybe it’ll just sit on my hard drive forever. But it continues to be a useful exercise.

*I’ve started research for the new book. No spoilers but I’m feeding the muse.

**Good thing I based my first novel on real people because I can’t name a damn thing. Thank doG for Scrivener’s Name Generator function.

***I already know the answer to this one: the story takes place in the sixteenth century and regrettably in most historical times and places (hell, even today) men had more freedom of movement than women.

why write?

As I sit here tinkering with my third draft, it occurs to me that I could be doing almost anything else. It’s summertime, time for loafing with a G&T and beach reading.

Not that I’m not doing these things, but even so this writing gig eats a lot of time for uncertain ends (and I hate uncertainty). So why do I do it?

It sure as hell isn’t for money. Kameron Hurley does a yearly breakdown of her earnings to illustrate how difficult it is to make a living as a writer. She’s an established sci-fi author with awards so I’ll count myself lucky if a newbie like me in a niche genre breaks even. No, I will always have a day job.

man lying in pile of money making a snow angel
Nope. Via Giphy.

It’s not for fame. While I’d like recognition for a well-written book, the odds of being a J. K. Rowling or Stephen King are close to nil. Which is good for me. Celebrity appears (from the outside at least) to complicate life so much that managing it would be a whole separate job.

David Bowie singing; caption reads
Nuh-uh. Via Giphy.

Speaking of well-written, more than one writer I’ve interacted with online has said that they write in order to improve their writing. This does make sense to me because I fence, an activity at which you never become expert even after years of practice. There is no graduation, you never arrive—there’s just the next lesson (writing exercise), competition (book), medal (publishing deal) etc., in an endless process of improvement.

Work it, make it, makes us, harder, better, faster, stronger, more than power never ever after work is over, work it harder make it better do it faster makes us stronger, more than ever hour after hour work is never over.
Yes! Via Giphy.

No, I think in the end, for me, writing is about the opportunity to share ideas that intrigue me with interesting people. I love good conversation but for most of my life I didn’t feel like I had anything to contribute or any means of doing so. Writing has proved that perhaps I might and can.

I want to get a book out in the world that’s compelling enough to inspire discussion, if not with me then among readers.

And I can’t find a gif for that.

art for art’s sake

The second draft is now safely in the hands of multiple beta readers and I’m now out of my “what do I do now?” stupor. So as I promised myself years ago I’m indulging in a sewing project (or two). New research + changed shape = I need new sixteenth century stays, so I’m raiding my fabric stash.

photo of pattern draft for a piece of historical costume. It kinda looks like a pair of rabbit ears.
Yeah, I’m critiquing too but you can’t really take a picture of that, so have a weirdly shaped muslin instead. Photo author’s own.

I’m going to use a nicer fabric than above, though stays are a foundation garment and never show. Not sure when I’m going to wear them next, either: I’ve not had much opportunity to dress up since last fall’s renaissance festival.

So why go to all the trouble of fitting and refitting with junk fabric for something no one’s ever going to see that I may not get to wear anytime soon?

Because utility isn’t the point. The result isn’t even the point, though I’ll make them as well as my skills allow.

No, it’s the experience of making.

Planning. Problem solving. Experimentation. Ripping it up and starting again, if necessary. Abandoning a project if I work myself into a corner because not everything works out. Always learning something, for good or ill. And, of course, fun.

Kind of like writing, that way.

I don’t know what’s going to become of these stays, or of the book. Maybe I’ll ruin perfectly good silk on something that won’t fit or look good. Maybe I’ve spent the past 4 years on a 300+ page turkey. Neither would be fun, and in the case of the book it’d break my little black heart if the second draft is unsalvageable.

But it’s not the destination, it’s the journey. Even failed projects are practice for the one that succeeds. Or so I keep telling myself.

 

 

 

at loose ends

So I’ve got my book with beta readers. What now?

via GIPHY

No, really, what now? For the first time in four(!) years I’ve not had the Work In Progress breathing down my neck (I didn’t take much time away between the first and second drafts) and it’s deeply strange. Not mourning or melancholy, but a kind of like an engine running to go nowhere. I need to feed my hungry mind.

The standard writers’ response is: start the next book! Which is smart career-wise and certainly possible as my plot idea folder is overflowing. But I need a break from long-form writing. Blogging and book reviews will continue cranking out as scheduled. Hell, maybe I’ll do some discovery writing or toss out a fanfic just for giggles.

I promised myself a sewing project so I’m trying to do that, but find myself wheel-spinning because I have too many options. Good thing I need new measurements because I can put off making a decision.

One thing I am doing is sticking to my resolution to learn by doing and be useful while I’m doing so. To these ends I’m critiquing and beta reading as I’m asked and able. I’ve given Scribophile a lot of attention and need to get back to my local writer’s group.

What about you? Ever feel like an engine raring to go without a map?

the finish line (may cut my head off)

OMG. OMG. As of this post I’m down to the last eight scenes in my second draft(!) This is wonderful. This is terrifying.

I’ve spent 3 days trying to congeal my anxiety into a post while John Adamus nails my mood in 140 characters.

Nonetheless, my own blatherings: Second draft = putting the whole thing in front of beta readers time. Structural errors that I could excuse as “covered in another chapter” when readers only read excerpts will now be writ large. Shallow emotions, poor cause and effect, loose ends, red herrings: all will be glaringly obvious in context.

I know – it’s why one has beta readers. I’m just nervous that these errors won’t only reveal what I need to fix but what I can’t. Maybe because it’s beyond my ability. Maybe because who am I to write about people like I understand how they work, how dare I?

Ahem.

In short, I’m afraid of what the story will say about me as a person, rather than about my ability to write.

A wise friend once told me about my fencing that no single competition defines one’s worth as a fencer or as a person–a crucial distinction for me as I too often conflate what I do with who I am. It’s no different with writing. If my book sucks it doesn’t mean I’m an awful person.

But if it sucks too badly to salvage it does mean I’ve spent four years on a cold, dead turkey. Which is a lovely “learning experience” but it sure as hell won’t feel like it.

But at the end of my chat with Mr. Adamus he posed the question:

The goal is making this book as good as I can before seeking a professional editor. But to do that I need other eyes to notice the things I can’t anymore.

I’m going to get there by [cringe] putting it out there and letting beta readers rip it to shreds. Even if it hurts. Even if they tell me things I don’t want to hear.

What about you? In your endeavors, do you ever freeze to a point that you just can’t finish what you started? How did you move past it?

overclocking

It’s been a rocky couple of weeks.

Between the day job, holiday preparations, a competition, competing social possibilities, and my cat getting sick it’s been a rollercoaster of ups and downs and too much at once. Even the good stuff has involved logistics that already stretch my overstretched brain. Long periods of waiting culminate in swift decision making–two things I’m particularly bad at.

Yeah, I know I need to take a chill–that’s what the holidays are for, right? Even so I feel like I’m juggling knives and can’t let a single one drop, ever.

No, I don’t smoke. I’ve never smoked. But even so…via GIPHY

So, writing has rather fallen by the wayside. The waiting gives me enough time to brainstorm but not enough for butt in seat, words on screen. What little I’ve written bores and frustrates me.

My hopes for the new year involve a schedule that calms down enough for me to work through the writer’s block. And for all my failings I have learned about my writing process: if I keep hammering I do break through to where the words flow again.

Beyond that, I’ve not got many goals for the new year (I’m bad at goal setting. Maybe learning to do so should be my goal…).

What are you looking forward to/working on/planning on for 2018?

playing in other people’s sandboxes

So I said a couple of weeks ago. I’m not alone in the sentiment if the thread is any indication. Mind, I’m biased. I got my start as a fanfic writer.

Fanfic is often unjustly maligned as the refuge of the lazy and unoriginal. This Imaginary Worlds episode explains well the origin of these stereotypes and refutes them quite well. A good number of published authors got their start in fanfic (DailyDot found these 10; Google will find you many more).

Media franchises are the modern version of mythology. People want to tell and share new stories about characters they already know and love. It’s a wonderful way to interact with other fans, speculate about future developments, offer alternatives to canon, and keep canceled properties alive.

Mind, I’ve not run into much fanfic based on historical fiction (though fic writers love to use historical “alternative universes”). Still, I nurture a foolish hope that I’ll run into Dee/Kelley slash someday. Even more than being on a bestseller list, if my books can involve people that much I’ll know I’ve truly arrived.

So: could you, would you, have you written fanfic? If so, in what ‘verses (you can probably guess one of mine)?