Fiction writing is an artform, without a doubt. Like painting, sculpting, acting ... even needlepoint ... it takes a certain degree of imagination, a high level of skill, considerable amount of practice, and an ocean of perspiration.
Now, I haven't a clue what goes on in the world of a painter or an actor or a needlepointer. Each is different in its practice. I marvel at what a painter can do, as I struggle just drawing stick figures. And I certainly don't see how I can act a part out of a play so convincingly that the audience would believe I am some character who is possibly a very different type of person than the real me. But what I find is very similar amongst all the arts is the need for criticism. The need for perspective.
Like I said, I haven't a clue how it is for painters and other artists, but I am fairly certain that a serious practitioner would want criticism on their finished product or performance. An actor needs a coach or a director to show them that perhaps the emotion the actor thought they were projecting is just not quite there. The painter may look at the canvas and say this is really cool looking, but an objective eye might see things differently. And then there is the opposite conclusion. Where a painter or a writer or an actor might feel that what they have created is terrible, a valued opinion might reveal that actually things came out great, lending confidence where perhaps little existed.
Additionally the criticism should be constructive. I am a big fan of Simon Cowell. He tells it like it is. He is a bit gruff about it, and it certainly appears to be excrutiating when he gives a negative criticism. But despite the lack of diplomacy in his remarks, he is constructive. He does know of what he speaks. And as painful as things might be, he is helping the artist to become better. Then there are others that can be rather scathing but really do it out of perhaps jealousy or sometimes malice. I recently saw a critique written by a "so-called" expert from Writer's Magazine that eviscerated a book already published and had one some awards. I had read the book myself. Actually, I had assisted the writer over the years in polishing manuscript to get to where it is now ... in the bookstores. Albeit this was a friend and colleague, I found the criticism quite unfair and my friend was rather hurt by it. Still, unfair or not, the criticism was helpful, if for anything other than at least building scar tissue on my friend's lacerated ego.
For writers, the value of criticism is critical. Perhaps it is even more critical for a writer than for other art forms. Perhaps. And I am not really here to debate that topic. Instead, in terms of writers, what I find to be true is that they find themselves immersed in their story and become emotionally connected to the piece at hand. The story becomes like a baby to them that must be raised and nursed to adulthood. And so, like a mother or a father, writers often have difficulty seeing the flaws in their "perfect little bundle of joy". So, a critique of the work is often necessary. No, it is mandatory if one thinks they can seriously get a story to the finished product (or at least finished enough) to where someone might consider publishing it. This is even more so if the piece is self-published, as nothing would be more embarassing (at least to me, anyway) than putting something out there that really stinks and the writer doesn't see it until the readers start rejecting it outright without the piece first having had any professional criticism or editing whatsoever.
Over several years now, I have been a part of a small group of writers in my local community. Each of us at one time or another has actually put out work that has managed to be published and read. We did not start out that way, though. It was actually because of the criticism we lended to one anothers' work that we improved to the point where we all managed to garnish bylines. We saw what each one of us was doing with our individuals pieces. We each received written and verbal evaluations of what had been written, and as we consistently have met together over the years, we have grown in our ability. Although none of us are household names, because of the criticism we have given each other of our collective works over the years, we have managed to become better writers. We have been shown where we went wrong, where the characterization was one dimensional, the plot was flawed, the description of the setting was lacking. It has made us into what we have become. Not just would-be writers, but published authors.
So, for those of you out there seeking to better your skills, even if you are already published, find like-minded souls. Gather around you other writers and critique each others' work. Take the time to give valued criticism to make the members of your group better, and they in turn will do the same for you. In the end you will all benefit, as will the reader who opens the pages of your latest "bundle of joy".
Friday, April 13, 2012
Friday, February 24, 2012
Skeletal Remains
For those of you who sometimes delve into articles or books regarding the art and practice of creative writing, you find a myriad of different ways in which writers go about drafting a story.
Some start with an idea -- a kernel shed from a dream or other inspiration and then jump headlong into it without a clue as to where they might end up. I refer to this as base jumping without the parachute. An exhilarating experience, I might add, and one that I have enjoyed on occasion, but is not what I typically do. Further, this tends to end up becoming a dead end, more often than not.
Others will spend a great deal of time taking an initial idea and then working through considerable research, character "studies", detailed outlines, etc. This is often more the case in speculative fiction where the writer needs to develop an entire world along with its associated pecularities (world building, and creating extra-terrestrial beings and the like), but also occurs in historical fiction as well. Also, not what I tend to do because more times than not that almost always stifles the creative genius part of it and the story never happens.
Then there's the "in-betweeners", those who start with an idea, stew on the notion, perhaps come up with the one-dimensional character background of the protagonist and the antagonist, develop a general storyline and then jump into it with at least a notion that they might end up somewhere good in the end.
There are variations on these three categories to one degree or another, but essentially that is the way of things. You can guess into which category I fall.
As an "in-betweener", I start off with an idea, puzzle upon it for a brief instant, and then if the notion seems "page worthy", then I start developing in my mind, first, a possible storyline. From there I will come forth with a protagonist with a problem or a desire and an antagonist who is only too willing to thwart the solution to the problem or the fulfillment of the desire. Basic character conflict, stuff. From there, I might do a little bit of outlining on paper, or perhaps merely within the confines of my hyper-active mind, and then start in with the first line. And I find this works the best for me. The creative part of me gets moving while the part of me that wants to make sure I am not wasting my time (I hate wasting time) gets a little comfort in knowing that the new story might actually have a fighting chance of surviving through a complete rough draft.
What I find occurring is a process of "body-building". I'll sit down and start cranking the words out, and that feeling of jumping from the cliff hits me (but atleast I have a parachute -- I know where the story is generally going to lead because I put some thought into it). Those primordial words and phrases, those crude sketches of character, of action, of dialogue splatter upon the page, then gel and harden as the story is constructed. Eventually, I find myself with a completed story in the very roughest of terms. It is merely a skeleton of a story, mostly action and dialogue. Scant description of the setting is in place, very little deep characterization has come forth, and the purple prose is almost non-existent. But at least I have a rough draft, something to go with, and even though it is just a skeleton, at least it is the structure of something vaguely resembling the remains of a human being (or maybe a walrus). Somewhere in the middle of all this I will do some research on various things just to make sure what I am trying to portray in the story is plausible and reasonably fits within the bounds of physics or other tenets of reality (this is especially true if I happen to be writing a hard science fiction piece -- which does not happen, being that I am more of a fantasy writer with a decidedly absurdist bent to things).
Then comes the second draft ... sometime much much later in the future. I usually set the rough draft aside for some time (weeks, months ... perhaps years) just to get a little emotional detachment, but also mainly to begin looking at the story from a critical standpoint. I want to determine at this point things like what settings, characters, and objects need to be described either thoroughly or more thoroughly than I had barely managed to do in the rough draft. I will also begin formulating more dimensions (beyond the three) to the characters -- their personalities, their motivations, their associations and interactions with other characters in the story, etc. This second draft will also have a bit more detailed research, if necessary, to make sure that things are correctly depicted as they should be. I call the second draft the musculature where I am placing the meat on the bones of that skeletal first draft.
Once done there, I might then again, let the story sit, but probably not for quite as long as I would have after the first draft (after all, I don't want the meat to spoil on the bone). In the third draft, I am at this point still refining such things as description of setting and characters, but with greater emphasis on drafting the purple prose -- placing metaphor and simile, and looking more towards using exact words to replace those initial rough draft, crude/general words. And I will also look at things such as the overall theme and the milieu of the story just to make sure I am correctly (at least from my standpoint as the writer) evoking the emotional response I want to instill in the reader. The third draft is the guts of the story -- more precisely the stomach, intestines, heart, and lungs, etc.
It is a fleshing out of the story until at this stage I have something that resembles a living breathing organism (human or walrus). There will at this point still be further revisions beyond the third draft. After all, the thing's going to need eyeballs and toe nails, and a little hair on its backside. So further revisions are necessary. And it truly is the detail work, the tedious going over and over again of the body that really makes the story something worth publishing. True, the skeleton of the idea was the foundation, the framework, but that fine stitching of skin over the muscles and organs, that pinpoint accuracy of using just the right word in the right sentence in the exact scene is what takes the idea to the point of being worthy of seeing the light of day, of being taken out for a walk around the grounds. And so with each little application of eyelashes and armpit hair I work it until the story is almost nearly perfect (at least as perfect as a human or a walrus can be), until eventually, one day what was once just a skeleton suddenly takes its first breath ... and I yell out (at least in my head) the immortal words of Dr. Frankenstein, "It's alive!"
Some start with an idea -- a kernel shed from a dream or other inspiration and then jump headlong into it without a clue as to where they might end up. I refer to this as base jumping without the parachute. An exhilarating experience, I might add, and one that I have enjoyed on occasion, but is not what I typically do. Further, this tends to end up becoming a dead end, more often than not.
Others will spend a great deal of time taking an initial idea and then working through considerable research, character "studies", detailed outlines, etc. This is often more the case in speculative fiction where the writer needs to develop an entire world along with its associated pecularities (world building, and creating extra-terrestrial beings and the like), but also occurs in historical fiction as well. Also, not what I tend to do because more times than not that almost always stifles the creative genius part of it and the story never happens.
Then there's the "in-betweeners", those who start with an idea, stew on the notion, perhaps come up with the one-dimensional character background of the protagonist and the antagonist, develop a general storyline and then jump into it with at least a notion that they might end up somewhere good in the end.
There are variations on these three categories to one degree or another, but essentially that is the way of things. You can guess into which category I fall.
As an "in-betweener", I start off with an idea, puzzle upon it for a brief instant, and then if the notion seems "page worthy", then I start developing in my mind, first, a possible storyline. From there I will come forth with a protagonist with a problem or a desire and an antagonist who is only too willing to thwart the solution to the problem or the fulfillment of the desire. Basic character conflict, stuff. From there, I might do a little bit of outlining on paper, or perhaps merely within the confines of my hyper-active mind, and then start in with the first line. And I find this works the best for me. The creative part of me gets moving while the part of me that wants to make sure I am not wasting my time (I hate wasting time) gets a little comfort in knowing that the new story might actually have a fighting chance of surviving through a complete rough draft.
What I find occurring is a process of "body-building". I'll sit down and start cranking the words out, and that feeling of jumping from the cliff hits me (but atleast I have a parachute -- I know where the story is generally going to lead because I put some thought into it). Those primordial words and phrases, those crude sketches of character, of action, of dialogue splatter upon the page, then gel and harden as the story is constructed. Eventually, I find myself with a completed story in the very roughest of terms. It is merely a skeleton of a story, mostly action and dialogue. Scant description of the setting is in place, very little deep characterization has come forth, and the purple prose is almost non-existent. But at least I have a rough draft, something to go with, and even though it is just a skeleton, at least it is the structure of something vaguely resembling the remains of a human being (or maybe a walrus). Somewhere in the middle of all this I will do some research on various things just to make sure what I am trying to portray in the story is plausible and reasonably fits within the bounds of physics or other tenets of reality (this is especially true if I happen to be writing a hard science fiction piece -- which does not happen, being that I am more of a fantasy writer with a decidedly absurdist bent to things).
Then comes the second draft ... sometime much much later in the future. I usually set the rough draft aside for some time (weeks, months ... perhaps years) just to get a little emotional detachment, but also mainly to begin looking at the story from a critical standpoint. I want to determine at this point things like what settings, characters, and objects need to be described either thoroughly or more thoroughly than I had barely managed to do in the rough draft. I will also begin formulating more dimensions (beyond the three) to the characters -- their personalities, their motivations, their associations and interactions with other characters in the story, etc. This second draft will also have a bit more detailed research, if necessary, to make sure that things are correctly depicted as they should be. I call the second draft the musculature where I am placing the meat on the bones of that skeletal first draft.
Once done there, I might then again, let the story sit, but probably not for quite as long as I would have after the first draft (after all, I don't want the meat to spoil on the bone). In the third draft, I am at this point still refining such things as description of setting and characters, but with greater emphasis on drafting the purple prose -- placing metaphor and simile, and looking more towards using exact words to replace those initial rough draft, crude/general words. And I will also look at things such as the overall theme and the milieu of the story just to make sure I am correctly (at least from my standpoint as the writer) evoking the emotional response I want to instill in the reader. The third draft is the guts of the story -- more precisely the stomach, intestines, heart, and lungs, etc.
It is a fleshing out of the story until at this stage I have something that resembles a living breathing organism (human or walrus). There will at this point still be further revisions beyond the third draft. After all, the thing's going to need eyeballs and toe nails, and a little hair on its backside. So further revisions are necessary. And it truly is the detail work, the tedious going over and over again of the body that really makes the story something worth publishing. True, the skeleton of the idea was the foundation, the framework, but that fine stitching of skin over the muscles and organs, that pinpoint accuracy of using just the right word in the right sentence in the exact scene is what takes the idea to the point of being worthy of seeing the light of day, of being taken out for a walk around the grounds. And so with each little application of eyelashes and armpit hair I work it until the story is almost nearly perfect (at least as perfect as a human or a walrus can be), until eventually, one day what was once just a skeleton suddenly takes its first breath ... and I yell out (at least in my head) the immortal words of Dr. Frankenstein, "It's alive!"
Monday, January 23, 2012
Which came first ... the writing or my life?
It is Monday evening, and I am just about up to here with work. Don't get me wrong, as the owner of a small business existing in a struggling economy, we need to work, to generate a profit, to make money and pay the bills. But by the end of this weekend I was just about to blow my top.
Why?
Well, it's like this. Finally, after going through the slow business period of the holiday season (my line of work is not terribly busy during the holiday's, hence revenue goes down -- perfect timing, too, as I would like it to be up so I can have plenty of money to buy Christmas presents), the new year started a little slower than usual. It is now roaring along at top speed. Good thing, right? Well, yes, because we need to generate revenue so everyone gets paid (especially me). But what this leads to, since the year started out slow, is that the clients are starting to come around and shoot work at us with a vengeance. This is combined with the fact that the tax preparation season is upon us. I do have an accountant for the business, but she can't do it all. I have to do some of the prepping for it before giving it over for her to do the number crunching. So, sudden influx of work after being incredibly slow, plus tax preparation, equals almost zero time for writing. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
I am writing, mind you. Heck, I am writing right now in drafting this blog. But I need more. I am an addict and I need bigger highs. And all this other stuff ... this ... these things we collectively throw into the basket we call life is getting in the way.
Which begs the question: Which came first ... the writing or my life?
One can realistically argue that it is necessary to do these other things in order to survive, to eat, to provide for my family, to fund a retirement, etc. So life outside of the writing must go on. Without it there can be no writing (chiefly because the electricity would be shut off that runs the computer I am typing on).
But there is the other side. The yearning of the human soul side of things that says, what is the point of living if one cannot pursue happiness? Happiness to me is writing, creating, placing words upon the page in such a fashion that it is literally musical.
So how do we balance things? For me, at least this weekend, it begins with the germinating seeds of revolution. In fact, this very weekend I spent most of it working on reports, closing out assignments, working on taxes, and by the time I hit Sunday afternoon, I was mentioning to the "Genius" (read, the wife) that I was about to revolt. And that is exactly what I did. At approximately 3:30 p.m on Sunday the rebellion ensued. I stopped working and started writing. What's more, I wasn't even writing (or rather re-writing, mind you) my novel. I was working on a couple of different short story projects. Although I should have been working on the second draft of the novel, so shoot me.
The basic truth of the matter was that my mind yearned to do more than simply be. To simply exist is not enough, especially if one has an artistic bent. Scratch that -- it is not human to simply exist, to survive, to eat and sleep, and just make a living. What would be the point? A person must be more than what they do to earn their keep. Some choose painting. Some choose charity work. Others are missionaries. And then there are those like me who like to write. It is my way of contributing positively to humanity. It is the essence of the soul. So, if all one does is work, work, work, the soul is neglected. If it is neglected too long ... viva la revolucion!
I present this to you. One must work to eat. True. But one must create to live. How you find the time is up to you, but find it. Even if there is a ton of things to do. There are five loads of laundry to wash, a ton of dishes, fifteen thousand reports to generate, three billions widgets to manufacture. Stop!
Take a break! Even if you are in the middle of the assembly line building widgets. Take a moment and do what is important to your soul. Even if it is just thirty minutes, do it!
"But I have so much to do!" you yell at me. True, you do. But if you take the time to nourish the soul, you will be reinvigorated and, hence, that much more efficient in completing those three billion widgets. And your attitude will be much better, because you got to do what you like to do. Heck, despite the thirty minutes, or three hours, you lost doing what you enjoy (in my case, writing), you may even find your widget making productivity increase and thereby erase the time lost.
It is necessary to do this, you know. Because if you don't, sure enough ... viva la revolucion!
Why?
Well, it's like this. Finally, after going through the slow business period of the holiday season (my line of work is not terribly busy during the holiday's, hence revenue goes down -- perfect timing, too, as I would like it to be up so I can have plenty of money to buy Christmas presents), the new year started a little slower than usual. It is now roaring along at top speed. Good thing, right? Well, yes, because we need to generate revenue so everyone gets paid (especially me). But what this leads to, since the year started out slow, is that the clients are starting to come around and shoot work at us with a vengeance. This is combined with the fact that the tax preparation season is upon us. I do have an accountant for the business, but she can't do it all. I have to do some of the prepping for it before giving it over for her to do the number crunching. So, sudden influx of work after being incredibly slow, plus tax preparation, equals almost zero time for writing. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
I am writing, mind you. Heck, I am writing right now in drafting this blog. But I need more. I am an addict and I need bigger highs. And all this other stuff ... this ... these things we collectively throw into the basket we call life is getting in the way.
Which begs the question: Which came first ... the writing or my life?
One can realistically argue that it is necessary to do these other things in order to survive, to eat, to provide for my family, to fund a retirement, etc. So life outside of the writing must go on. Without it there can be no writing (chiefly because the electricity would be shut off that runs the computer I am typing on).
But there is the other side. The yearning of the human soul side of things that says, what is the point of living if one cannot pursue happiness? Happiness to me is writing, creating, placing words upon the page in such a fashion that it is literally musical.
So how do we balance things? For me, at least this weekend, it begins with the germinating seeds of revolution. In fact, this very weekend I spent most of it working on reports, closing out assignments, working on taxes, and by the time I hit Sunday afternoon, I was mentioning to the "Genius" (read, the wife) that I was about to revolt. And that is exactly what I did. At approximately 3:30 p.m on Sunday the rebellion ensued. I stopped working and started writing. What's more, I wasn't even writing (or rather re-writing, mind you) my novel. I was working on a couple of different short story projects. Although I should have been working on the second draft of the novel, so shoot me.
The basic truth of the matter was that my mind yearned to do more than simply be. To simply exist is not enough, especially if one has an artistic bent. Scratch that -- it is not human to simply exist, to survive, to eat and sleep, and just make a living. What would be the point? A person must be more than what they do to earn their keep. Some choose painting. Some choose charity work. Others are missionaries. And then there are those like me who like to write. It is my way of contributing positively to humanity. It is the essence of the soul. So, if all one does is work, work, work, the soul is neglected. If it is neglected too long ... viva la revolucion!
I present this to you. One must work to eat. True. But one must create to live. How you find the time is up to you, but find it. Even if there is a ton of things to do. There are five loads of laundry to wash, a ton of dishes, fifteen thousand reports to generate, three billions widgets to manufacture. Stop!
Take a break! Even if you are in the middle of the assembly line building widgets. Take a moment and do what is important to your soul. Even if it is just thirty minutes, do it!
"But I have so much to do!" you yell at me. True, you do. But if you take the time to nourish the soul, you will be reinvigorated and, hence, that much more efficient in completing those three billion widgets. And your attitude will be much better, because you got to do what you like to do. Heck, despite the thirty minutes, or three hours, you lost doing what you enjoy (in my case, writing), you may even find your widget making productivity increase and thereby erase the time lost.
It is necessary to do this, you know. Because if you don't, sure enough ... viva la revolucion!
Friday, January 13, 2012
You've come a long way baby
A whole year has gone by! As the twitterers (or would that be tweeters) might say ... OMG, where have I been?
The last post was over a year ago, and for all two of you out there paying attention to this blog ... well, what can I say. Been busy? Dog ate my homework? I didn't have enough bus fare? The man was dead when I got here!?
No excuse at all, really. I just got distracted with other things in life. Bought a new home, moved my small business, got another dog (three now and counting), did some traveling, and I have been working on my novel.
Oh yeah, did I mention I was working on my novel? Besides everything else that goes on with the daily routine, I 've been working through the completion of the rough draft and now I am about halfway through the second draft. Even that has been, to say the least, time consuming, but unlike many of my contemporaries, I rather enjoy the re-writing and editing process. It is that moment when I am putting meat on the bones of the skeleton, so to speak. And the novel is "beefing up", that's for sure. Actually, it is starting to look like it is on steroids.
But in recent times of working through the process of re-writing, I have come to think about this blog and realized that it has been neglected. And so, like other things that I had to put on the back burner throughout much of 2011, I have decided to exert myself and place renewed vigor on this blog.
Considering where I have been and what I have been doing in the past year, me posting a blog now after all this time means something. It means, it's time to get to work.
The last post was over a year ago, and for all two of you out there paying attention to this blog ... well, what can I say. Been busy? Dog ate my homework? I didn't have enough bus fare? The man was dead when I got here!?
No excuse at all, really. I just got distracted with other things in life. Bought a new home, moved my small business, got another dog (three now and counting), did some traveling, and I have been working on my novel.
Oh yeah, did I mention I was working on my novel? Besides everything else that goes on with the daily routine, I 've been working through the completion of the rough draft and now I am about halfway through the second draft. Even that has been, to say the least, time consuming, but unlike many of my contemporaries, I rather enjoy the re-writing and editing process. It is that moment when I am putting meat on the bones of the skeleton, so to speak. And the novel is "beefing up", that's for sure. Actually, it is starting to look like it is on steroids.
But in recent times of working through the process of re-writing, I have come to think about this blog and realized that it has been neglected. And so, like other things that I had to put on the back burner throughout much of 2011, I have decided to exert myself and place renewed vigor on this blog.
Considering where I have been and what I have been doing in the past year, me posting a blog now after all this time means something. It means, it's time to get to work.
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