Results of Ruminations

I finished my tenth novel today. As I've been struggling to finish this latest book (struggling because I wrote all 88,000 words of it in the last four weeks, and that kind of focus is draining), I decided to do a rough approximation of how much writing I've done since I started college/came back from my mission. (During my time in Florida, I didn't really write anything, though I talked about ideas with roommates or companions. Writing--genuinely putting effort into my stories--started in July of 2004, after I had been home from my mission for about a month. I've been writing ever since.) Since I'm bad at math, I decided to make a spreadsheet that would do the calculations for me. This is what I have so far: All of these are finished novels, and some of them I even like. The numbers have decimal points, for some random reason. Ignore those extra zeroes. I'm only talking about finished  products, but assuming those numbers are right (I'm a little ...

There are two basic philosophies about how you write a novel: Gardeners or architects--also known as pansters and outliners. The idea of "pantsing" is that you're writing by the seat of your pants. You don't have a lot of stuff written down. You feel a story is in there somewhere, and that you need to write about it. Here's how Stephen King phrases it in his memoir/writing advice book (page 163-164): I believed stories are found things, like fossils in the ground...Stories are relics, part of an undiscovered, pre-existing world. The writer's job is to use the tools in his or her toolbox to get as much of each one out of the ground intact as possible. Sometimes the fossil you uncover is small; a seashell. Sometimes it's enormous, a Tyrannosaurus rex  with all those gigantic ribs and grinning teeth. Either way, short story or thousand-page whopper of a novel, the techniques of excavation remain basically the same. Technically, he's discussing the gene...

The debate over who's the "better" writer among the anchors of the Western canon tend to devolve into arbitrary designations: Homer was first, therefore...; or, Milton was so allusive, therefore...; or, Shakespeare gave us a plethora of new words , therefore.... All of these claims are fine, but they're like having an academic debate whilst in line at Cold Stone to determine which gourmet ice cream is actually superior.* Regardless of who is the Best, Shakespeare is in the running. But as a writer, what does Shakespeare provide that fellow writers can learn from? I've been asking myself this question for a long time, and though I'm sure there are additional reasons, I've figured out at least three: language as a tool, interior depth, and variation in consistency. I'll approach the first here. Language as a Tool One of the many paradoxes about Shakespeare is that he's simultaneously adored and feared for his robust language. It's not just ...

At writers' group tonight, we got to talking about the news that Brandon Sanderson's Cosmere (multi-book spanning cosmology) is being optioned and put toward film franchises. While this is cool news, it got me thinking about what Hollywood producers are aiming to get out of fantasy franchises. With the undeniable success of Peter Jackson's adaptations of  The Lord of the Rings , as well as the country's continued fascination with Game of Thrones , there's obviously a connection to well-rendered fantasy worlds that has mainstream appeal. I worry, however, that producers are reading the wrong message. For every Lord of the Rings , there are a dozen Eragon  or Percy Jackson  films. For every Game of Thrones , there's a slew of Legend of the Seeker -type IPs that get out there, flounder, and fade away. What's different? What sets apart some of the tentpole properties from the rest of the herd? First and foremost, the caliber of the stories has to matter. Whi...

As rain began to patter across my windshield, I listened to a teacher in New York who was fired from his job because he has Tourette's Syndrome. His distress and grief came through and I felt for him. What , I thought, a story. Obviously, it isn't a good story, in that it isn't a story about good things. But it was a good story because it had merit. It had worth. And I thought that it'd be so nice if my life had that, too--a story of worth or merit. That isn't to say that my life is bereft of anything dramatic or interesting. It's just that my life is so simple, so padded, so convenient that I hardly notice the bumps as bumps--they all feel like mass potholes when, in reality, they're mostly just pebbles. I guess a large part of it is that I spend so much time talking about writing and teaching others about writing and thinking about writing that I never sit down and hammer out sentences, putting one letter after another until the page is blank...

I wrote this poem a while back when I was in a somewhat similar situation as I am in currently: Writer Blocks Waiting to be able to write is worse Than a five year old on Christmas Eve, Worse than nine months' gestation To an elephantine mother. Yes, it feels great when it leaves, Like a virus expelled, or house guests― Like a bladder held too long getting relief. Though it feels great in the releasing, It doesn't feel great in the holding. Inability to write is holding glass in the hand, Painful, bleeding, possibly damaging. Holding anything in isn't recommended (Nine out of ten Surgeons General say so), Like breath or love or a story. So that's what it becomes, then, These mighty weights in the brain: Blocks upon which a tale is written, Cement stories, laid brick by brick, Word by word, letter by letter, Thought by thought. The writer Isn't blocked, but blocks the writing. Except in this case, when he sits And types a free verse poem And wishes he were ...

I've been working steadily the past week on my three-project mess. It's kinda hard to show exactly how much each has progressed, but it's good to see something going on. At least, I think so. Tales: 5,206 new words (that doesn't sound like a lot, but I'm pleased with it. I'm 25% through my goal for the month) Press Start: I have 9,995 words in the project, a number of which I've culled from this blog. (Yes, just 5 words away from 10k! Of course, as I lamented in the last blog post, a lot of those words have to be thrown away. I don't have an overall goal for the month with this one. A large—probably overly-large—portion of this one isn't going to be written until I finish Baudrillard.) Words: This is the revision one. It's going to float around 136,721 words (it's current count) pretty permanently. A better track: 3/44 chapters revised. That's not even 1% yet. Books and Other Snippets I'll probably post a little anecdote about the re...

I tried my hand at writing another essay today. It spiraled out of control and exploded messily on my computer. There are still bits I'm picking out of the keyboard. I'll probably post the tragedy here fairly soon...if I ever get beyond that last blasted paragraph. On unrelated news, Brandon Sanderson has just released a new stand-alone fantasy book that I plan on picking up this week. I recommend his work to anyone who likes fantasy.