‘T’aint What Ya Do (It’s The Way That Ya Do It)

Posted under Methods of writing, Outline or no outline? on June 29th, 2014 by

I don’t read a lot of ‘how to write’ books.  In fact, if you count the ten or so that I began and threw to the couch in disgust, the amount read still probably wouldn’t amount to one book.*

Mostly I just don’t like being told what to do.  But there’s also a part of me sceptical enough to believe that there isn’t one, general, shrink-wrapped way to write.  And then there’s that whole problem of: “But I don’t do it like that!” that occurs every time I delve into a ‘how to write’ book.  Apparantly one should always have an outline.  One should plot well in advance, with a detailed plan that cites every skerrick of the ‘who, why, what, when, and where’.  And how.  If one does not, one is a pantser**

The fact is, I quite often sit down to write with only one character in mind.  Sometimes I have an idea of a plot, but more often it grows and twists as I write.  I’m more likely to start with a character or a relationship than I am to start with a plotline or a story.  Yeah, it means I have a lot of work to do in the editing and re-writing, but that’s what works for me.  I love watching my plot grow and complicate.  I love that fact that seemingly random bits and pieces come together to form a cohesive whole, driving the plot on in my mind.  I don’t even mind going back to foreshadow things that need foreshadowing.

So now I’m curious.  How do you write?  What works for you?  Are you a pantser***?  Are you an outliner****?  Do your characters drive the plot, or does your plot drive the characters?  Are you perhaps a lover of *gasp* purple prose?

Let me know.  Oh, and read Patricia Wrede’s ‘Wrede on Writing’.  It’s good.

 

*Caveat here to say that Patricia Wrede’s ‘Wrede on Writing’ will be excluded from this rant, since it’s made up of excerpts from her blog, and I’ve always found her particularly helpful.  Also Diana Wynne Jones’ ‘Reflections on Writing’, because I haven’t read it yet, and she’s awesome.

**And you wouldn’t want to be a pantser, now would you?  No, you wouldn’t.  Good writer.  That’s right.

***You naughty writer, you!

****I promise I won’t hold it against you.

Look, Ma! I’m Makin’ A Movie!

Posted under Growing as a writer, Movies, New Things!, Screenplays on June 21st, 2014 by

Look, Ma!  I’m makin’ a movie!

Well, I’m writing a screenplay, anyway.  Close enough?

For those who don’t know what a screenplay is (one of the guys at my writer’s group asked me this morning); a screenplay is the bones of a movie or tv series, or sometimes even a game.  It’s a script plus a few extra bits, like scene settings or actor instructions, or camera shots/angles.  It’s the beginning of a movie.

I wrote a short story a while ago that I just couldn’t get out of my head.  There were things I knew about the setting and characters that didn’t make it into the short story for the very simple reason that if I’d included them, it wouldn’t have stayed a ‘short’ story.  It was an unusually visual story for me, and it didn’t cease to prod at the corners of my mind when I finished it, unlike every other story/book I’ve written.  I always still love my characters when the story is done, and I’m always fully immersed in the re-writes and editing, but this particular story just seemed to keep growing with scenes and dialog that were increasingly visual.  Then someone from my writer’s group read the story and said: “This should be a movie.”

At first it was just ridiculous thoughts of: “Oooh, this is a great song for the soundtrack!” and “This actor is perfect for George.  Oh, and this one is going to play Ruth.”  Then I started wondering about the form of screenplays: how they’re structured, what they contain, etc.  It didn’t really occur to me that I could write a screenplay, of course; because I’m a writer and don’t you have to be a playwright/screenwriter to do that?  Am I allowed to write a movie?

Well, apparantly I am.  I did my research (ahem.  Well, a full day of furious typing on the google and madly following links, and reading the screenplay for True Grit); found out the correct format (oh boy, are they a pain!); and started writing.

And I can do it.  It’s a different form with different rules, and entirely refreshing.  It’s almost easy, because I know where it’s going and what I have to show to make it work.  It’s just a matter of plugging away until it all done, and then making it as beautiful as I can.  I don’t know that I’ll try and send it out to anyone when it’s done.  Heck, I don’t even really know if I’m doing it properly.  But now that I’ve started, other books have begun with the same siren song . . .

Well, the world really does need a four-hour miniseries of The Count of Monte Cristo, after all.

Adventures In Retail: The Coffee Bandit

Posted under Adventures In Retail on June 14th, 2014 by

“Coffee?  What coffee?” he blustered.  Just as if I hadn’t watched him try the same stunt last week.  Wearing the same jacket.  Same hat.  Same stringy-haired girlfriend.

“The coffee in your jacket, mate,” I said.  At least he’d been a bit more circumspect this time.  Last week it was a huge 1kg International Roast can that he shoved up his jacket.  This time he’d just taken a small glass jar of $15 Moccona coffee.  Quality over quantity, maybe.

“@!!## you!” he said, and started to walk away.

“Mate, we’ve got your face on camera.  You want me to call the police for coffee?”

He tried to keep walking but his nerve was shot.  He dug the coffee out of his jacket and tossed it on the closest register, still legging it for the exit.

“Don’t come back,” I told him, and snagged the coffee.

He turned around for one last salvo.

“You better hope I don’t find you out on the street,” he said.

I raised my brows and said: “Yeah, you keep walking, mate.”

Ya can’t make this stuff up, guys.

Grist for the mill, or merely mundane stupidity?  Well, that’s why we’re writers, after all.  To answer the big questions.

The Pirate Code

Posted under Uncategorized on June 4th, 2014 by

Everybody knows what the Pirate Code is.  (And if you don’t, immediately go and watch all four movies in the Pirates of the Carribean franchise.  Seriously.)

Take what you want!  Give nothing back!  Or, depending on which part you’re talking about; Those who fall behind, get left behind.  Or even Parlay?  The part I want to talk about, however, is Take what you want.  Give nothing back.

I’m relatively new to the blogosphere.  I’ve been blogging for about three months now, steadily learning as I go; and I’m just beginning to scratch the surface of it all.  There are so many people who blog, or comment, or reach out on twitter, or . . .  And so on.  It’s just slightly overwhelming.  Now, I’m the kind of person who has to be reminded to say hello to people.  When I see someone I need to talk to, I generally march up to them and say something like: “Oh!  Bags!  Where are they?” or “Where’s my chocolate cake?”  I have to make a distinct effort to engage in small talk.

It should therefore come as no shock to realise that I’m only just beginning to grasp the vast social possibilities of WordPress, Twitter, Tumblr, et al.  Because it’s not just me blogging to whoever will listen.  It’s people out there, all writing about what they love, or what interests them, or what annoys them.  Sometimes they reach out and touch me and I get to see a little bit of them.  Sometimes I stumble onto a subject that interests someone else, and they get to see a bit of me.

It’s a community out there.  We comment back and forth, reblog, and tweet (or is it twit?) to each other.  And I’ve been running on the Pirate Code because it just didn’t occur to me that to get the richest experience out of all this, I was going to have to give something back.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to find a man with a goat.  And someone who can go: “OooOOoooh!” while doing spooky fingers.**

*Pic from the Pirates of the Carribean: On Stranger Tides.

**Seriously.  Watch the Pirates of the Carribean.

Feeling Refreshed!

Posted under Favourite Authors on June 2nd, 2014 by

So I got a promotion at work.  It means more money, which means the house will get paid off in roughly five years (if I can stick to the plan); but it also means more work.  Lately, it also means going without my lunchbreak (which is usually my official hour of writing time) and getting home so flamin’ tired that I can’t concentrate on my dinner, let alone my WIP.  That, of course, has had a derogatory effect on my writing.

Oh, I’m still writing.  Sometimes I even write a whole paragraph.  (Yeah, impressive, right?)  But the sense of accomplishment and movement that comes from writing roughly a page a day, and the in-depth knowledge of the WIP that comes from writing it and living it every day, is no longer there.  Lately, I feel stale and old and slightly disconnected.  Discontented with the way my WIP is progressing and not as enthusiastic about it as I usually am.

This morning, however, I’m feeling re-energised.  Wanna know why?  Of course you do.  Over the weekend I read a wonderful book entitled ‘Brood of Bones’ by AE Marling.  Not only is it an amazing read in and of itself (fantastic plot, wonderful characters, and evocative prose) but it also has the distinction of being one of the few successfully written books having a female protagonist that is in fact written by a male.  Moreover, it gave me insights into how I want to write a certain book that is further down the chain in a sequence I’m currently working on.

There is nothing that energises me more than reading a well-written book with characters I love.  It’s always been my maxim (yes, I have a maxim.  Actually, I have two; the other being that there is a song for everything), that if you can’t write, read.  Over the weekend, I couldn’t write.  So I read.  And now I can write again.

I feel refreshed.  I feel energised.  I have my cuppa.  Have at thee, book!

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Talking When Nobody’s Listening

Posted under Uncategorized on May 24th, 2014 by

My mum has this habit of talking to people who aren’t in the same room.  Oh, they usually begin by being in the same room: after all, she’s not senile.  The conversation will begin perfectly normally: a discussion of whatever quilt she’s working on, the tv show she’s currently watching, the nifty little thing she’s making for sis, or dad . . .

Then will come the inevitable call of nature, or the desire for a cuppa, or a furtive look in the pantry to see what delicious something my sister has baked that day.  I’ll leave the room with a quick: “Hang on, I’ll be back,” and the conversation will continue just as if I was still there.  In the background will be mum, chuntering away happily about something I can’t quite hear, while I raid the fridge and occasionally yell out: “I can’t hear you!”

She’ll keep talking anyway.  And when I walk back into the room there I am in the conversation again, as if I was there the entire time.

Or she’ll walk up the other end of the house to her quilting room while she’s still talking.  From the bowels of the house I’ll hear snatches of the conversation as it moves from quilting room to bedroom, and eventually, back down the hall to me.  Then I’ll be inducted back into the conversation.  No worries.

It’s fascinating.  A motherhood talent along the same lines as having eyes in the back of your head.

 

Very well: to extrapolate.  Blogging feels something like that.  I spy hits on the counter with my beady and sometimes feverish little eye; maybe two or three a day.  (You in the back- I heard that snigger.)  But by and large, it feels kinda like talking when nobody’s listening.  And in just the same way that mum doesn’t seem to mind, I find that I don’t, either.  Sometimes you just have to talk, even if nobody’s listening.

To extrapolate even further . . .

Writing as a whole is a bit like talking when nobody’s listening.  Even the big authors had that at first.  You write what you write regardless of who sees it, or what they think about it, or if you’ll ever be published.  You write because you love it.  You craft, and you learn, and you grow.  And you keep going because you know that somewhere, sometime, someone will be listening again.

Readers will always be a big part of what we do: after all, we write for them as much as for ourselves.  Well, we’re readers ourselves.  But sometimes you just have to keep talking even when nobody’s listening.

Musings: Of Kids And Chainsaws

Posted under Musings on May 12th, 2014 by

I saw this movie a while ago.  It was thriller/horror type thing, the name of which escapes me now, following the fortunes of a family who have moved into a house where a massacre once occurred.  The father is a true crime writer, blindly pursuing the goriest of crimes, even to the extent of moving into a house where an entire family (bar the youngest) was brutally murdered. The wife, needless to say, is less than impressed when she finds out that the house has ghosts (literally).  The two children, an early teen boy and a six year old girl, are variously affected by the strange goings on but seem to cope better than their parents.

The chills and thrills were really very good, and the movie had a good enough progression of mystery to make it worth watching.  I kinda expected the grand finale that saw the family chopped to bits by the six year-old daughter (off-screen, of course), but the sound of a chainsaw revving to life to the accompaniment of six-year-old footsteps was sufficiently chilling to remain with me for some time.

It wasn’t until a day or two ago that the thought occurred to me: how in the flamin’ heck did a six-year-old kid start a chainsaw?  Leaving aside the fact that the starter cord on a chainsaw is roughly twice as long as your average six-year-old’s arms, the start up process for every chainsaw I’ve ever met with involves pumping the choke three-and-a-half times (or something equally ridiculous) half-pulling the starter cord, a few more pumps to the button-choke, a few more pulls of the starter cord . . . You get the idea.  A kid, even a possessed kid, couldn’t possibly hope to start, let alone hold, a chainsaw.

This is where things get difficult.  I’m not sure if I have one point, multiple points, or no point at all.  It says a lot for the movie that the impossibility of the main kicker didn’t occur to me until many weeks after watching it.  So perhaps my point is that you can do what you like so long as you’ve managed to achieve suspension of disbelief.  But I did eventually notice, so perhaps my point is that you should always make sure to dot your ‘i’s, etc . . .  Maybe my point is just that if you do everything else well, one mistake can be, if not forgiven, at least indulged.

I don’t know.  Make of it what you will.  But if you have a six-year-old who can start a chainsaw, keep it away from me.  I have enough of my own nightmares.

Favourite Authors: Steven Brust

Posted under Favourite Authors on May 1st, 2014 by

I discovered the novels of Steven Brust about four or five years ago.  The first I found was Dragon, and I found it in an op-shop.  It looked interesting, had a great opening few pages (which I skimmed, of course; knowing, as every good reader knows, Not To Judge A Book By It’s Cover), and was about 10 cents.  I don’t recall how many other books I bought that day, but judging from my usual book-buying habits, I would guess between two and three piles.  I got them home, and Dragon sank into the pile of to-be-read books.

A year later, I was pottering around in the book section of Shiploads, certain (as always) that somewhere in there was a positive treasure trove of good books.  I spotted a familiar author name.  Thought: ‘Oh yes, I meant to read that book Dragon.  Same bloke.  Wonder if it’s good?  Should I buy another when I don’t know if it’s good or not?’  And then, of course, I did buy it.  This one was Dzur, which I took home; and, surprise of all surprises, read immediately.

I’ve read a lot of books.  When I was kid, I read two to three books a day; and although that has slipped now that I’m older (and, *ahem*, more responsible), I still read a great many very good books.  I’m always delighted to read a Diana Wynne-Jones book, for example.  Or Patricia Wrede.  Or Terry Pratchett.  To name just a few.  But when I read Steven Brust’s Dzur, I found myself for the first time delighted with the structure of a book.  I hadn’t come across anything like it.  I hadn’t thought about structure before: I know, I know, I’m a writer.  But until I ready Dzur, the full potential and fascination of a cleverly put together structure just never occurred to me.

The structure is as follows: each chapter begins with a meal, lovingly and knowledgeably written.  Moreover, each chapter preface, despite being almost exclusively based on a meal eaten by Vlad (the main character), also serves to advance the main story.  Not to mention the huge boost it gives to character expansion, getting to know Vlad by his fine dining habits (when he can indulge them.)

The next day I pulled out Dragon.  Again, I was amazed and delighted to follow a story structure that I hadn’t ever seen used with this level of accomplishment and panache.  The chapters begin with an excerpt from the present: and smack-bang!we’re right in the middle of the action.  Then each chapter segues into the past, delving into how and why Vlad ended up where he is.  Ultimately, as you might expect, the two parts meet.  It’s fascinating.  And again, it’s something that I’ve never seen before.

Now, with all this talk about wonderful story structure, you might think that structure is all this author has going for him.  Not at all.  He’s also written two of the most enjoyable and compelling characters that I’ve read in quite some time: Vlad Taltos (an ex-assassin, though sometimes not quite so ex-) and his loyal but wisecracking familiar, Loiosh.  I can’t say how much I enjoy the humour and personality that these two exude.  Nor can I over-emphasise how well Steven Brust draws a plotline through his wonderful structures.  I do love a good story.

 

I had to scour the internets for more of Steven Brust’s books.  Those two lucky finds were my last luck as far as he was concerned.  Still, Amazon’s second-hand books proved fruitful, and I discovered to my delight that this newly favourite author of mine was not dead (as too many of my favourite authors are); and was, in fact, still writing!  It was nice to find that I could order quite a few of his titles on my Kindle.  I love my older covers of Teckla and Phoenix and all the rest of them, but it’s kinda nice to have Tiassa on my kindle, too.  And now there’s a new one coming out, so excuse me while I go and wait expectantly with my Kindle . . .

Seriously, guys.  If you’re in the mood for something new, try Steven Brust.  You won’t be sorry.

 

(Addendum: I have to modify my raptures slightly to mention that although I loved the idea of Steven Brust’s Cowboy Feng’s Space Bar and Grille, I had to stop reading it on account of the insanely high amount of bad language.  So if, like me, you don’t care to read the f-word five or six times per page, every page, stick to his Vlad Taltos novels.  There’s plenty there to enjoy.)

 

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