Mumble Herder

Didja ever write something that made you so uncomfortable with your own brain that you had to physically move away from the manuscript in order to rid yourself of the wiggins?

The Riches is my new favorite show; I really liked the pilot, and after the subsequent three episodes I'm sure of it. Just, wow. Great, great characters, thanks to genius acting by Eddie Izzard, Minnie Driver, et. al. Karen M. made the observation while we were in the desert (we had both only seen the pilot at that point) that it feels sort of like a modern-day fantasy epic, only without any magic at all. It's just a hidden world, one which may or may not really exist, but which feels rich (sorry) and weird and has the modern-day analogues of royalty and treasure and you really need to watch the show.

The Spring issue of Farrago's Wainscot is live, and while I hesitate to support any endeavor undertaken by that bastard Farrago, he has stories by Hannah Wolf Bowen, Sandra McDonald, Paul Jessup and Jason Erik Lundberg, not to mention poems by Ryan Cornelius and Bryan D. Dietrich, nonfiction, and more stuff. Also, check out the serial novel by Mark Teppo!

Happy Hang Onto Your Spot At the Mall Day!

Today(?)'s writing strategy (not recommended); stay up all night (literally) watching "Ugly Betty" episodes, then walk to the cafe to eat breakfast and write the chapter I didn't write yesterday. On the way home, figure out the chapters I need to write tomorrow to catch up. Be exhausted. Fall into bed for a very long nap.

Finally, a little Knut.

Turn to page 123 in your work-in-progress. (If you haven’t gotten to page 123 yet, then turn to page 23. If you haven’t gotten there yet, then get busy and write page 23.) Count down four sentences and then instead of just the fifth sentence, give us the whole paragraph.

(I cheated a little bit, because I like this bit from p.121-122 better. Sue me.):

Vohuzeb was seated at the opposite end, between Captain Gzen and the Garanese ambassador. Though the very sight of the latter's twitching mustache put Vohuzeb in mind of the bloodlust of the hunt, he endeavored to make conversation. The Garanese would speak only of culinary matters, however; he expressed grudging admiration of the dark berry flavor of the wine, but disdain for a dish of tubers blanketed with melted cheese.

"Cheese should be served in the evening, on a cold platter, with fruit," he said. "Tubers should be cut and heated in oils and spices as a morning dish."

"I like the melted cheese," Vohuzeb said between mouthfuls. His appetite had increased since his near-death experience on the slide, and if he could spite the Garanese by his hunger he was eager to do so.

"There are differing sophistications of palates across cultures, of course." The Garanese held a forkful of broiled fish up to the light and sniffed at it. "Certainly the folk of this valley are fond of salty dishes."

It's no fun being sick if you can't call up the boss-man and say "Nope not today. Suckah!"

One reason it's easy to love the Twins: they have great commercials. Pirahnas, and Carpool. (Via Twinkie Town.)

The book has a working title now: Five Kingdoms. I'm pretty sure it won't stick forever, because it's kind of un-sexy. Also it's a little misleading because it's not actually literally about five different kingdoms. Look, don't get all in my face about it. It's like, you know, calling your friend Hank because of that noise he made that one time when he fell over trying to uncork a bottle of Cabernet. A nickname. I like it for now because it has a bunch of different meanings relevant to what's actually going on in the book, even though they are the sort of meanings that I would have to explain using words like "metaphorically." Also it's nice to not have to say "The book I'm working on right now which is about succession and revolution and stuff."

Crap, I can't even get this stupid tube of Advil open. When I was in Austin David Moles had to open one of these for me. Dave, mind getting on a plane?

For, well, everyone: an alarm clock with wake-up messages from Stephen Fry. (Via Warren Ellis.)

Mo Rocca has a blog.

Oh, and another Secret City excerpt was posted late last night, so you may have missed it. It's about Winter's End. Enjoy.

I am now going back to bed.

So, since October I've been helping out with the Monthly Writing Challenges for novelists on the Odyssey email list. (It's a list for alumni, so, you know, if you're not one I can't help you get on it.) There are a couple of guys doing one for short story writers, which overall seems to me more amenable to monthly challenges, but it's not the job I took. Anyway, five months in I'm already having trouble coming up with new ones. I've suggested things like, "Rewrite a crucial scene in your novel without using any sight description" or "Who does your main character spend the holidays with (and if you're writing about a created world, what are those holidays?)" I also proposed that everyone working on a novel put themselves on a deadline and figure out what sort of monthly/weekly progress would be necessary for that.

In the beginning it was easy, but now that it's hard I'm doing the smart thing and asking other people to think up stuff for me. There's a bunch of talented writers on this list, many of whom have written or are writing novels. Have you got any ideas for me? What sorts of things do you wish someone had told you before you started writing novels? What things have you learned in doing so? Help?

Please note that this is not a "Do as I do" post. (I feel the need to disclaim as I dislike prescriptive writing advice.)

I'm a very . . . seat-of-the-pants sort of writer. Particularly in the long form. With short stories, about half the time, I think about the story for long enough ahead of time that I more or less know the whole thing before I start. I may even do a rough outline before I start scribbling. With novels I can't do this. I have a setting, and some characters with baggage, and some things that I know I want to happen. Everything else (and even a lot of the preceding) is subject to change. Partly this is because it's more fun for me not to know everything ahead of time. Partly it's because it's my experience that every word is shaped by the words that precede it. (I nearly always write in sequence, for this reason.) Scenes often reveal things to me that I don't expect. It's in the details of character and setting that the story becomes real to me--stranger, more emotionally resonant, more true.

What this means, in practical terms, is that I get stuck a lot. I finish a chapter and I'm not sure what happens in the next. I know things that are supposed to happen, because the shape of the larger plot becomes clearer to me as I go along. But sometimes simply getting a character across the room is an ordeal. In other words, the specifics matter.

There are things I do when I get stuck. First, I don't panic. Well, not at first. I figure I've got until the next day or so before I need to get started on the next bit. But not long, particularly now; I've set myself a deadline for this book, and the deadline means that I have to finish 2 1/4 chapters a week, or nine a month, and somewhere in the midst of that are going to be edits for the book that's sold--yeah, it's probably not going to happen, I know. But it's still a goal I'm working towards. So I give myself that day, but I don't dare give myself much more.

I do other, less productive, things. I obsess over how crappy my vague conception of the next chapter would actually be in execution. "Oh, great idea, Dave. So the woman duellist who's posing as her dead brother goes to the prison to see her old professor, and he spends the entire time LECTURING TO HER about the impending revolution? Really interesting." Rule #1 for me (maybe my only rule) is Don't Be Boring. Lectures are boring. So are people talking about things that are going to happen. Rather, things should happen. So I get annoyed with myself and start to pick apart the characters and think about how much fixing the second draft is going to need and how I should have researched the French Revolution more and maybe I should stop thinking about this and have a drink but wait, maybe the character should be drunk! (This is something I'm trying to train myself out of--the Benjy section in The Sound and the Fury is a marker for me, and subconsciously I tend to want to spice up boring scenes by fucking with the character's perceptions through intoxication or other impairments. Need to not do that.)

I don't, as an aside, tend to get as far as thinking that my book sucks. The thing to remember about sucking is that you can fix it in the next draft. The key is just to not make any mistakes so horrible that you end up having to rewrite everything to correct them. (SEE IT'S THAT EASY. Aren't you grateful for having read this?) I know what I'm doing, mostly. The end product may not be perfect, but it'll work. It's just that, for the time being, I'm stuck.

The thing is, the real solution tends to be counter-intuitive. I have to not think about the book for a while. Going for a walk helps. Seeing a movie, or a book that's sufficiently absorbing to make me not think about how it's put together, can also help. And then sleeping on it. Because--and again, this is specific to the way I write--my subconscious does a lot of the connective work, and finds ways to learn from that bit that I read the night before, or that stray thought the other day, or that spicy meal last week. Things snap into place.

Seems like sometimes the best writing strategy is to do something else.

Oh, shut up.

. . . is that I hate, loathe, despise, New Year's Eve. I may dislike it even more than I do Valentine's Day, which is saying something. I am a complete and utter sap for Christmas; I love the music, I love the lights, the trees, the food and the gifts and most of all the people. When it comes to December 31st I am a complete and utter Scrooge.

It is, however, the end of the year and a good time to assess my goals. I used to do this around the time of World Fantasy, but this seems like a more logical time to do it and distract you all from my grumpy hats-n-champagne-hatin' ways.

( Goals for last year and next behind the cut . . . )

Itsy Bitsy Spider-Man! Oh man do I want this. Maybe if I buy it for every kid I know I can sneak one for myself? Make sure to watch the video.

From another region of the Internet altogether comes this review of Rabid Transit: Long Voyages, Great Lies, pointed out by Mr. Barzak. Very thoughtful (and favorable, overall) look at that publication, with some kind words about my story "Shackles."

Not much news to report. Even though I spent far too much time slacking off this weekend for my liking, I still managed to get two chapters on paper. I had a period of a week or two where I wasn't sure what was going on with the new book; it's looking like it might be long, for one thing--perhaps even more-than-one-book long. I have misgivings about this, but then I'm the one who decided to take War and Peace as one of my models. Anyway, I like how it's shaping up so far, so I guess I'll just try not to worry and see how it goes.