Once again.

Once again I've dropped the ball on Free Read Friday. Once again my sciatica has made it nearly impossible for me to sit and concentrate for any real length of time. I have so much work piled up as a result. Blog posts I wanted to write, a novel that needs edited, new work to flesh out, and of course my ongoing series of short stories. 

I've built a stand up desk to help with the sitting part but it's proving to be a difficult change, going from writing while sitting down, to writing while standing up, it's hard to believe it would be so difficult to do that.

I've also invested in Dragon software to help speed the process along, again it's been interesting teaching the software to recognize my voice and inflection. First time I tried it after installing and going through the voice recognition set up it wrote the opposite of what I said.

Like learning to write while standing up, and writing by speaking, it's going to be a process I need to dig in my heels and keep focused on completing.

My goal is to finish Billy this week, and move on to the letter C

Any suggestions for titles?

Embracing Your Inner Writer

A question that comes up often for writers is "Why do you write?"

Replies may run from "I don't know," to "because I must."

“Lock up your libraries if you like; but there is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind.” (Virginia Woolf)


Occasionally you'll run across a writer who will tell you honestly that writing allows them to play on playground in their mind. It is after all, what we as writers do best. Stephen King summed it up in his book On Writing when he said “When I’m writing, it’s all the playground…”

“I love writing. I love the swirl and swing of words as they tangle with human emotions.” (James A. Michener)

By the same token writers can be quite bashful about sharing what they do, especially new writers who are just setting foot upon that path. Embracing the writer within generally goes against standard convention. By many we are viewed as adults trapped within a child's imagination for as children we are encouraged to embrace our creativity, to explore our imagination to the fullest. Yet when we become adults we are then told we must give up childish things.

“Your intuition knows what to write, so get out of the way.” (Ray Bradbury)

Even the bible tells us: "When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways."
1 Corinthians 13:11

“You can make ANYTHING by writing.” (C.S. Lewis)
Writer's on the other hand have consciously chosen not to put away their childish things. They continue to explore the unfathomable depths of their imagination as they create whole worlds from the very fabric of their thoughts. They refuse to quit playing in the playground of their mind. Many may view their dedication as proof that they have yet to grow up. Their own families may not approve of their desire to write, telling them what they really need to do is find a good job and settle down. To put away their childish things and grow up.

When I hear any of this I recall the words of C.S Lewis who said in part: "When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up."

Embrace your inner child, and the writer that exists within us all, explore the unfathomable depths of your imagination without shame. It's their problem if they can't accept you as you are, not yours.

Don't forget, October 1 will signal the start of my annual Halloween Horror Author Countdown, that's 30 authors in 30 days and I've got one hell of a line up coming your way. 

Stephen King: Can a Novelst Be Too Productive

THERE are many unspoken postulates in literary criticism, one being that the more one writes, the less remarkable one’s work is apt to be. Joyce Carol Oates, the author of more than 50 novels (not counting the 11 written under the pseudonyms Rosamond Smith and Lauren Kelly), understands perfectly how little use critics have for prolific writers. In one of her journals she wrote that she seemed to create “more, certainly, than the literary world allows for a ‘serious’ writer.”

As with most postulates dealing with subjective perceptions, the idea that prolific writing equals bad writing must be treated with caution. Mostly, it seems to be true. Certainly no one is going to induct the mystery novelist John Creasey, author of 564 novels under 21 different pseudonyms, into the Literary Hall of Heroes; both he and his creations (the Toff, Inspector Roger West, Sexton Blake, etc.) have largely been forgotten.

The same is true of the British novelist Ursula Bloom (over 500 published works, under many pseudonyms), Barbara Cartland (over 700) and a host of others. One is reminded of Truman Capote’s famous bon mot about Jack Kerouac: “That’s not writing, that’s typing.”

Read the rest at New York Times

A New Beginning

I finished my last project, Parasite around mid-October after spending over five months in the belly of the beast, so to speak, as I wrote, and rewrote the story to create the finished product. I was at that point many writers speak of, that lull between projects that for most writers, especially myself, left me feeling aimless as I cast about for the next thing to do. Not for a lack of ideas as there are currently several different stories vying for my attention.

I had spent over five months fully invested in the story and the characters, their individual hopes and dreams, theirs fears had become my own. I rode the emotional roller coaster that was my assorted characters lives. Not once, twice, or even three times, but many times as I strove to bring them to life. I believe I succeeded, but truthfully that remains for the reader to decide.

You see once I hit the publish button, and released my creation into the world, the characters I had created were no longer my own. They now belong to anyone who picks up a copy and opens the story to take a peek inside. They now wait for the reader to give them life, and I worry incessantly that maybe I wasn't honest enough to the tale. Only time will tell.

Now I find myself upon the brink of embarking on another adventure. You see when you write in the long form, such as novels and novellas, these are not things you nibble at a little here and there while you work towards completion. No, for me at least, writing a novel requires me to dive headlong into the story, to fully immerse myself in the characters, the place, the reason for the story's whole existence.To become one with the story and the characters, to feel what they feel, to experience, if only in my mind, what they have experienced. To live as they live.

While it may sound exciting, there is a downside, and that is the loss of self during the process of creation, I'm still there, physically, as I go through the motions of daily life as a model husband and dedicated worker (don't let my boss see this, he might loose it laughing at the idea), but then again I'm not really there. I'm in the story, and though I'm not sitting at my desk pounding on the keyboard, I'm still writing even if it's only in my mind. Thankfully I have an understanding wife for those moments when it seems I'm a million miles away, I'd do anything for her, short of giving up writing, but she'd never ask me to do that. 

Tracking Down Why

Last night my wife and I watched the movie Delores Claiborne, based on the book of the same name by Stephen King, who I will admit is one of my favorite writers. We had seen it when it first came out, and I had read the book years ago, again when it first came out. Of course that was before I became serious about my own writing.

Last night I watched the movie as a writer and when Delores quoted Vera with the line "Sometimes being a bitch is all a woman has to hang onto." I was floored with the realization that the entire book had been built around that simple statement.

I became excited as I explored all of the connections that led back to that quote, following the line of reason, the questions of Who? What? When? Where? And most importantly, Why? It was then that I understood what he had meant in his book On Writing, when he likened the act of writing a story as a process of uncovering a fossil.

We expand on the initial spark of an idea with a series of questions. What's happening, who it is happening to, where is the story taking place and when. Then we come to the why.

Why were the authorities so anxious to charge Delores with the death of Vera? Because they rightly suspected that she was implicit in the death of her husband years ago and wanted to make her pay in whatever way possible.

Why did Delores kill her husband? To protect her daughter.

These were the two most important questions of the tale and served as the foundation upon which the framework of the story rested. They were not the only two.

Why did Delores' daughter hate her so much? Because as a child of abuse she had effectively blocked all instances of the abuse from her mind, misinterpreting her mothers acts to protect her from her father as a wedge that drove them further apart. 

Why were Delores and Vera such close friends?  Beneath the surface where it really mattered they were both the same and they shared the knowledge of their husband's untimely demise.

There were many other questions answered in the course of the story but the four above served to move the story towards its eventual conclusion.