Colin Browne's Blog
April 16, 2012
Q&A now open until April 30
Ladies and gentlemen and fellow Bookworms of the Realm. I have a cup of tea and a small pile of digestive biscuits (plain, not chocolate ... I am not that much of an extravagant fool ... and I am ready to take your questions about life, The Baggage Handler and everything in a Q&A, here: http://www.goodreads.com/group/show/6.... Add categories if you want to, and I'll be glad to answer your questions there too. And if you don't want to ask anything but have a nose around instead, that's cool too.
It would be good if someone asked something though because otherwise it's going to get pretty lonely around here over the next two weeks.
:)
It would be good if someone asked something though because otherwise it's going to get pretty lonely around here over the next two weeks.
:)
March 21, 2012
And it's available in paperback!
Excited this morning. More so than I was yesterday evening in fact when I got home to find my proof copy of The Baggage Handler in my mailbox. It's available for purchase through lulu.com and I'll work on the distribution a little bit over the next couple of weeks to see where else it makes sense to make it available.
In the mean time, if you're not a digital guy or gal, this one's for you.
Over the weekend I'll don my librarian's hat and add the print edition here so the entries for it are all updated. Watch out too for giveaways and expanded reviews as I get more copies out there.
I'm smiling already ...
In the mean time, if you're not a digital guy or gal, this one's for you.
Over the weekend I'll don my librarian's hat and add the print edition here so the entries for it are all updated. Watch out too for giveaways and expanded reviews as I get more copies out there.
I'm smiling already ...
February 13, 2012
The joys of Meerkatting
It's been put to me several times now that the mental imagery delivered by the term 'meerkatting' in The Baggage Handler is spot on. It's the sort of feedback that a writer loves.
I care for the whole story of course (I mean, of course I do, I wrote the damn thing ... the important question is does anyone else?), but there are times when you come up with a concept or a phrase or a sliver of dialogue that you feel a little giddy about.
Something that tickles you pink and you feel guilty about being so happy with because it feels self-indulgent enough to be pathetic.
And yet it happens.
Meerkatting is one of those phrases. The picture explains what it means pretty much precisely.
It's not that important. It's just a thing, you know? But I loved it when I found it, and it seems other people are liking it too.
That, ultimately, is the only reason I write.
I care for the whole story of course (I mean, of course I do, I wrote the damn thing ... the important question is does anyone else?), but there are times when you come up with a concept or a phrase or a sliver of dialogue that you feel a little giddy about.
Something that tickles you pink and you feel guilty about being so happy with because it feels self-indulgent enough to be pathetic.
And yet it happens.
Meerkatting is one of those phrases. The picture explains what it means pretty much precisely.
It's not that important. It's just a thing, you know? But I loved it when I found it, and it seems other people are liking it too.
That, ultimately, is the only reason I write.
January 22, 2012
Let the dialogue set the scene
There are hundreds of ways to scene set in the middle of a flowing dialogue, and finding the right way to execute this really crucial element of the story is one thing that has frequently irritated me.
I hate the idea for instance that you have to break a brilliant (or at least a complete and flowing) monologue in order to present the reaction to the words being said. I don't mean that I don't do that ever, but it seems to me that there is generally a better way of making this happen simply by making your characters more talkative and by being faithful to real-world conversational patterns.
What the hell am I talking about, right?
Well compare these two. The first is a rejected passage from my book The Baggage Handler; the second is what made it into the book:
1) "You wouldn’t believe how I’ve got in my own way here and what a mess I’ve nearly made of this about half a dozen times now," Martin said.
Jake rolled his eyes and sighed deeply, his contempt for the story as clear as the open sky.
"Look if you want my help, start paying attention, because here comes the good bit," said Martin, now irritated.
2) "You wouldn’t believe how I’ve got in my own way here and what a mess I’ve nearly made of this about half a dozen times now. If your intention is to show me contempt openly, Jake, then please continue with the eye-rolling and the sighing. If you want my help however, pay attention, because here comes the good bit."
I prefer the second example, and that's what I used. It doesn't break the monologue, it describes Martin's reaction to Jake's reaction and that's an element that's missing in the first example. And also because truthfully, I can hear myself saying precisely something like that.
What do you think?
I hate the idea for instance that you have to break a brilliant (or at least a complete and flowing) monologue in order to present the reaction to the words being said. I don't mean that I don't do that ever, but it seems to me that there is generally a better way of making this happen simply by making your characters more talkative and by being faithful to real-world conversational patterns.
What the hell am I talking about, right?
Well compare these two. The first is a rejected passage from my book The Baggage Handler; the second is what made it into the book:
1) "You wouldn’t believe how I’ve got in my own way here and what a mess I’ve nearly made of this about half a dozen times now," Martin said.
Jake rolled his eyes and sighed deeply, his contempt for the story as clear as the open sky.
"Look if you want my help, start paying attention, because here comes the good bit," said Martin, now irritated.
2) "You wouldn’t believe how I’ve got in my own way here and what a mess I’ve nearly made of this about half a dozen times now. If your intention is to show me contempt openly, Jake, then please continue with the eye-rolling and the sighing. If you want my help however, pay attention, because here comes the good bit."
I prefer the second example, and that's what I used. It doesn't break the monologue, it describes Martin's reaction to Jake's reaction and that's an element that's missing in the first example. And also because truthfully, I can hear myself saying precisely something like that.
What do you think?
January 19, 2012
Sometimes characters just show up
I have a theory about characters, borne out by personal writing experience which both amuses me and makes me wonder about a strange character world out there in the ether somewhere.
Too often, in my writing, people just show up, uninvited and unexpected. That's a little like life in a way, in that any given day will deliver unplanned encounters with mostly run-of-the-mill, but occasionally exceptional people. People you just never saw coming who will say something that tickles you to the core and has you giggling hours later. Or people who shock and appall you so that you're deeply affected by them and perhaps worried about whether any of your own behaviour mirrors theirs.
It's those people, the impressive ones, who tend to invade my writing from characterland and make themselves a part of the story. And sometimes they can have a magical impact on the flow of the story.
Now it probably goes without saying that your main characters are pretty soundly thought out before you start writing. They may even be the reason you started writing in the first place. In The Baggage Handler, Martin and Kasia were fully grown adults before I started to tell their story and they let me know all that they thought I should as I began to flesh them out.
But then there's Isabel. I won't spoil anything of my own novel by giving away who she is or what she does, but I will tell you this: I never planned her. She was one of those characters who just appeared in the book as a flow of events unfolded, and demanded to be recognised. Martin was as surprised to encounter her as I was, but when she started speaking and I started writing it down, we all realised, my characters and I, that she was there to stay.
She altered the story and took it in a little bit of a different direction; not enough to change the tale in any significant way, but enough to add a stamp of mischief and colour to it that it would otherwise be lacking.
I don't know where she's from. I've never met anyone like her. But when a character like Isabel walks onto the page and makes it plain she intends to stay, my general rule is to pay attention and do what she asks. I'm rarely sorry when I do that.
Too often, in my writing, people just show up, uninvited and unexpected. That's a little like life in a way, in that any given day will deliver unplanned encounters with mostly run-of-the-mill, but occasionally exceptional people. People you just never saw coming who will say something that tickles you to the core and has you giggling hours later. Or people who shock and appall you so that you're deeply affected by them and perhaps worried about whether any of your own behaviour mirrors theirs.
It's those people, the impressive ones, who tend to invade my writing from characterland and make themselves a part of the story. And sometimes they can have a magical impact on the flow of the story.
Now it probably goes without saying that your main characters are pretty soundly thought out before you start writing. They may even be the reason you started writing in the first place. In The Baggage Handler, Martin and Kasia were fully grown adults before I started to tell their story and they let me know all that they thought I should as I began to flesh them out.
But then there's Isabel. I won't spoil anything of my own novel by giving away who she is or what she does, but I will tell you this: I never planned her. She was one of those characters who just appeared in the book as a flow of events unfolded, and demanded to be recognised. Martin was as surprised to encounter her as I was, but when she started speaking and I started writing it down, we all realised, my characters and I, that she was there to stay.
She altered the story and took it in a little bit of a different direction; not enough to change the tale in any significant way, but enough to add a stamp of mischief and colour to it that it would otherwise be lacking.
I don't know where she's from. I've never met anyone like her. But when a character like Isabel walks onto the page and makes it plain she intends to stay, my general rule is to pay attention and do what she asks. I'm rarely sorry when I do that.
