J.M. Sloderbeck's Blog, page 3

Cast the Bones

People on the outside think there's something magical about writing, that you go up in the attic at Midnight and cast the bones and come down in the morning with a story, but it isn't like that. You sit in back of the typewriter and you work, and that's all there is to it. — Harlan Ellison

Permit me to take a moment and appreciate the irony of taking myself away from writing my story to blog about setting and keeping regular goals while writing a story.

…

Okay, I'm done.

Admittedly, this one might be a bit shorter just because of the subject matter — I decided after this past Christmas that I wanted an attainable writing goal for this year, but I still wanted something BIG enough so I can feel accomplished and proud of myself if I reach it. That's the way goals are supposed to work, right?

So I decided that my "big goal" this year was going to be getting four books written this year. At first glance (for me, anyway) that seems like a ridiculously-high bar to jump for, but isn't that the way "big goals" are supposed to be? If all I tried to do was to finish one, and I finish it this Spring like I'm planning, that leaves another three quarters of the year to give myself an excuse to fart around and waste time. Better to put the bar high NOW and see if I can catch up to it.

To be honest, I'd be perfectly happy with three books finished. Or two. Putting the number as high as it is gives me three months to work on each of them, and allows a chance to still have some wiggle room if the words come more quickly or slowly from week to week.

On that note, I'd like to offer one suggestion for any aspiring (or current, or successful, or whatever) writer out there: set your aims on a weekly word goal instead of a daily one. Setting your aim on 2,000 or 3,000 words a week gives you more flexibility instead of 500 words every day. I know that people like Stephen King claim to push out 2,000 words a day, and that might work very well for him, but trying to emulate Mr. King might very well end up just frustrating and burning you out. 2,000 words a day is a wonderful goal to set, but if you don't think you can attain that on a regular basis, then start at 3,000 words a week with one day off (do the math), and start pushing it up slowly until you hit your limit on a consistent basis.

Or you could just find any available attic and start casting the bones. Best of luck with that.

Marking the Passage

Writing makes a map, and there is something about a journey that begs to have its passage marked. — Christina Baldwin

Neverend is done. I think there's some potential for a sequel, some ideas and thoughts I've written down somewhere and stored for safe-keeping. I even wrote a starting chapter or two, but tucked them away for now — I didn't feel it was a good decision to put all of my book-writing eggs in one basket, as it were.

So I've been sampling stories from other wells lately. I've talked about my horror writing some, but I haven't had any monsters in particular chasing me lately. Neverend was a good experience for me, to learn the ropes about the e-book publishing process, what hoops need to be jumped through and how to prepare a product as best I can. I was reluctant to go down that road — the e-publishing road — for a very long time because I always wanted to take the traditional route. I felt that I was good enough, skilled enough, practiced enough to find an agent, to sell my writing through someone who believed I was as good a writer as I think I am.

Obviously, that hasn't happened, but now that I've tried the Kindle route, I think there's a potential to find an audience that way. Over 500 people got a free copy of Neverend last week during the free promotion; hopefully some of those people liked it enough that they'll be willing to give my next story a look as well.

My next story is looking to be bigger than Neverend was in scale — a lot bigger. It's another story about children visiting another world (a favorite literary theme of mine), but these kids won't be as familiar or comfortable with their new environment as David was in Neverend. The first book in the series is tentatively titled Swordbearer's Light, and tells the story about a Portuguese girl named Isabel who's thrust into a struggle larger than anything she's ever experienced in her life.

Isabel isn't the only kid who's in for an eye-opening experience, however (in more ways than one; more on that in a later entry, I think). Because of the scale of this story — which will be told over the course of a series; a first for me — I've had to sit down and hammer out an outline for the entire story-arc. I've also taken the extra-step of outlining the first two books, and will see if I can't outline more as the story progresses.

This isn't new territory for me, per se, although I didn't outline Neverend. Neverend was the fourth or fifth book I've ever completed, and when I started I knew how it began, the climax of the story, and most of the main characters. More of it developed organically and naturally as the story progressed, and some parts had to be cut or trimmed during the editing process, but Neverend as a whole was very much a "flying by the seat of your pants" approach to writing. My girlfriend, Sara, calls this style of writing "pantser-style," and even calls herself a proud "pantser." I know that other people can live or die by the outline.

I felt that for the sheer scope and size of the story started in Swordbearer's Light, I couldn't just make it all up as I went along. I needed a guide, something written down that I could refer to when needed, or I was going to go insane trying to keep everything in my head and to keep everything in order. I'm sure better authors than I have made up entire mythoses (mythosii?) out of nothing but the voices talking in their heads, but I'd prefer to play it safe for my first time as I swim out into the proverbial deep waters. Can I always recommend outlines? Nope. What works for me won't work for everyone else. Can I still recommend them? Certainly — my story has barely begun and I'm already thankful for having it.

So if you're so inclined, try something a little different when you spread your writing wings: sit down and plan it out first, just to say you tried. You can always change it later (or throw the whole damn thing away) if you think it's best.

Wanting Reviews, Dreading Reviews

There is probably no Hell for authors in the next world — they suffer so much from critics and publishers in this one. — C.N. Bovee

So I have an ebook out — maybe you've read me mentioning it before. But that's not what I'm talking about today.

To be an indie author is to learn the true definition of the word "patience." When you're all on your own — without an army of an agent, editors, publishing gurus and paid flackeys backing you up — it's really very easy to lose sight of the main goal and remember why we torture ourselves with this thing called "writing."

Now I don't have an agent. I didn't have access to a paid editor. I don't have access to the kind of funds and support that some people I know do. They won the Find-an-Agent lottery; they found the person who read their writing and wanted to be a part of it. Lots of writers don't have that. I nearly got there numerous times, only to get tossed to the wayside for whatever reason. Neverend wasn't genre-friendly enough, or put into a box as easily as other books. It wasn't the latest flash-in-the-pan story that's hot these days (like paranormal romance or another Harry Potter clone). For whatever reason, I struck out.

So I got tired of the run-around, took a chance, and put the book out on my own. No support. No agents. No publishers. Just me, a word processor, a year and a half of editing and tweaking, some family to help me with the back-end and cover, and now it's out there where anyone can find it. I am not Amanda Hocking or Stephen Leather; I am not going to make a mint anytime soon. I'm in this game for the long haul, and biding my time to see if it withers on the vine or bears fruit naturally.

I also don't have any reviews for the book yet. This is not a post where I excoriate or complain about people buying a cheap book and not taking time to write a review — people can do what they want with my book. If they love it, I hope they enjoy it and they'll recommend it to other people; if they hate it, I'm glad that only had to "waste" $0.99 on it. I gave away over 500 copies of Neverend earlier this week when it was free — if they hated it, they didn't lose a red cent for it.

I also see people I know who have had their stories repped and published professionally, who might already have a half-dozen or more reviews in less time than I've had Neverend out there. Let's cut through the crap for a moment: reviews are something professionally-sold books are given in order to move copies. If more people read favorable reviews, or reviews on book blogs, then there's a better chance of a copy being sold. Reviews are a nice pat-on-the-back, but if you can't be sure where they were generated from, or if they're a result of a free copy and a request, then how do you know what to trust?

Let's be clear, however: this is not pay-for-play; this is not Payola. Reviews are a legitimate, necessary way that this business works, and it IS a business. Do I wish I had reviews? Of course I do! I want to know that something I poured almost two years of my life and hard work into was appreciated by readers.  But do I need reviews to pad my fragile ego? Nope — I'm writing because it's what I love and what I HAVE to do. I could no more stop writing than I could stop breathing, and I'd imagine most writers agree with me on that.

Write your stories because they're what keep you up at night, or because you can't imagine a day going by when you don't put a pen to paper or start clacking keys on a keyboard. If all you're focused on are the approval of others or positive reviews, you'll drive yourself into an early grave or burn out.

Just Be Truthful

I once asked Barbara Stanwyck the secret of acting. She said: 'Just be truthful — if you can fake that, you've got it made.' — Fred McMurray

Fiction writers lie.

It's true. If we're good enough liars, we can even lie for a living. That's probably a quote I've stolen completely by accident from someone who's more well known than I am, but that doesn't negate the truth in it. When we write stories, we're making everything up as we go. Nobody is going to ask where Belgarion lives or if Ned Stark was real — they're made-up, and that's widely accepted.

I don't, in this instance, think that it's harder to lie while writing genre fiction (fantasy, sci-fi, what-have-you) versus literary fiction. Just because our characters can shoot lightning from their fingertips or turn into fire-breathing dragons doesn't make our lying any more difficult. The people who read certain genres are willing to suspend their own disbelief because they've learned to expect certain things from the books they read.

So how do we ' be truthful' while we're lying through our teeth? I would argue that the answer is sincerity – if our fiction is real to us, and if we write it with skill (which comes from practice) and heart (which comes from ourselves), then we can make it real to our readers. That's the most important — and most difficult — hurdle to jump on the way to searching for the ending of whatever stories we're writing.

Just be truthful. If you can manage that, you might just have it made after all.

Turning the Monsters Loose

I try to create sympathy for my characters, and then I turn the monsters loose. — Stephen King

I know this is a blog primarily focused on fiction writing — specifically fantasy fiction — but I'd like to take a sharp turn and head down a spooky, far-too-traveled road into the realm of horror, if I might.

First thing to know: I hate horror. I don't read horror books, don't watch horror films, can barely stand to have anything to do with it. Last scary movie I ever watched was The Haunting when I was a teenager (and any horror-movie watcher is laughing their ass off at me right now to know that). The only book by Stephen King I've ever read is On Writing (which is an excellent book, by the way). I don't even like Halloween, and when the holiday rolls around I shut and lock my doors, turn off all the lights and do my best not to attract unwanted attention.

Second thing to know: I'm fascinated by horror. In a previous job, I'd scour Wikipedia articles on my lunch breaks because I couldn't resist the allure of knowing what a scary movie was without actually having to watch it. I can't stand horror because my imagination is too vivid, too bright. The blood is real, the dying is real, the monsters are real – I'd go insane if I had to watch or read the stuff on a regular basis.

Third thing to know: I write horror. The first short story (worth mentioning) that I ever wrote was only completed last year when my now-girlfriend challenged me to a horror writing prompt over at AbsoluteWrite's forums. I wrote a story about a man who's caught living in the shadow of the girl he loves all his life, even when she leaves him behind to go explore space. But then the ship disappears without a trace for months, until her superiors discover that she's the only survivor. When she won't talk about it, our boy is called in to get her to talk about it … and that's when we find out what kind of desparate measures a human being will stoop to in order to survive.

That was my first short story, but it wasn't my only one. I've written stories about the monsters hiding in garage attics, about armies of cannibals rampaging across the land, and snark-loving knights who have to escape those armies. I don't do a lot of short fiction — I've always dreamt in too large of a canvas for the limitation of 2,000 words, or 5,000, or even 10,000. I can count on two hands the number of short pieces I've done at all, but I inexorably feel myself drawn back to the horror well for just one more drink. The stories don't come very often, but when they do I'm almost powerless to resist the allure of them until I've cleansed myself of that particular demon.

Now, have I sold any short fiction? Nope. Almost sold my space-horror piece once, before it got the axe in a manner which I won't go into here, but I still haven't crossed that particular finish line yet. The monsters are still nipping at my heels, and they won't let me go until I've talked someone into liking the story as much as I do. Plenty of people seem to like it … but if I can't talk an editor with a checkbook into liking it, all of that's for naught.

The monsters are a fickle bunch. Whether they're from under the ocean, beyond the stars, or inside of ourselves it's necessary to let them cut loose and do their scary business for awhile. Don't be afraid to try something that's outside of your comfort zone every once in awhile if it keeps you trying new things, and if it keeps you writing.

Seeing Your Ideas

Everybody walks past a thousand story ideas every day. The good writers are the ones who see five or six of them. Most people don't see any. ― Orson Scott Card

NOTE: Return to Neverend is FREE for January 17 and 18. You can get a copy here!

Where do ideas for fantasy fiction — or any fiction — come from? Why do some of them stick, and some of them pop into your head before they fade just as quickly? I can't comment as to how crime writers or erotica writers do their imagining. I may or may not end up writing such material, but fantasy is where I cut my teeth, and so that's where I'm going to focus. That's what this blog is about — writing, and specifically writing in the field of fantasy fiction.

I have a series concept I'm working on right now, an amalgamation of certain themes and story ideas I've loved for years — magic swords, a light touch of prophecy or fate, adventures in another world (a theme in common with Neverend, actually), and plenty of other ideas that I won't even get to go into until later in the series.

But where do the ideas themselves come from?

The original concept that has changed and turned into my current project was a much different animal — it was intended for an adult market, not Young Adult; it was something I expected to query to agents like every other book I've written, as opposed to an e-book; and I invested more than 60,000 words and two months of work before I had to tuck it away, albeit reluctantly. The seed was sprouting and trying to grow, but I'd tossed it into the wrong soul. I'm still tinkering and struggling with the idea of the story as I'm writing it now, but sometimes 90% of the effort of writing a book is just showing up, putting your butt into a chair and writing.

I collect ideas everywhere — watching television, sitting in the airport, driving down the Interstate or when I'm on the phone with my girlfriend. I know that some people suggest keeping a notepad in your pocket or next to your bed at night when you go to sleep; my computer is next to my bed, so I don't bother with a notepad myself. If an idea comes along and I like it enough, it usually sticks with me until I have a chance to write it down somewhere.

Write down those little nuggets of ideas that you come across. Even if you try to write about one (or all!) of them and you fail, save the ideas for another day, because there's no telling when they might come back out to play again. Save your pieces and parcels; hoard them, and guard them carefully.