Brendan Carroll's Blog: Working my way back - Posts Tagged "writing"

I've seen a number of posts from authors complaining about writer's block, lack of inspiration, inability to get started, having trouble with character's names, descriptions, settings, etc. These I find quite puzzling. It seems to me (IMHO)that I never run out of ideas, names, descriptions, inspiration, plot possibilities, prospective settings, but what I do run short on is time.
Since retiring back in February after a lifetime of public service, I find that I am busier than ever. Writing is not difficult for me, managing my time seems to be the problem. I have so many things I want to write. Everything from blogs, to forum posts, to full-blown novels and yet, there are not enough hours in the day to get it all done.
The real problem lies in having too many irons in the fire as the old adage goes. I have family, friends, pets, trips here, there and everywhere and though these things are enjoyable much of the time and necessary the rest of the time, they are very demanding.
Then there are the usual diversions: Politics, religion, television, games, reading, Facebooking! OMG! And last, but certainly not least, house/yard work. I like a clean house/yard. I hate clutter and junk. If I can't use or at least enjoy looking at it from time to time, I don't need it. Hence, I spend time everyday cleaning and working to keep everything neat and tidy. I simply cannot function in a house piled with clutter and if there must be clutter, then it must be "orderly" clutter! Ha!
So the answer to the question may actually be Yes! Writing is difficult! But it is not the actual writing, it find the time to do it.

Just before I retired, a number of people I worked with told me that I'd soon be back at work because I would be bored. I always objected to their reasoning and told them I would stay busy writing and promoting my books. Even though I said this with conviction, I was truly afraid that I would actually miss working and become bored.
What a joke! I haven't looked back once with remorse since April and I hardly see a time coming down the road when I might grow tired of being my own boss, doing what I love to do, when I want to do it, without dreading Monday morning.
I am currently working on Book 20 of the Assassin Chronicles, editing and formatting, proofreading and tweaking it for publication. I had hoped for a November publication for it, but that might not be possible. It may be more reasonable to expect it out in December.
At present, I am also thinking of writing a short horror story for a proposed anthology for "Kindle Authors". I have a few ideas for storyline and character, but I really don't know if I'll have time to meet the December 15 deadline.
It has been very hard for me to believe that I've become so very busy blogging and posting and reading and writing and promoting and trying to help out fellow authors where possible that I've got to squeeze in time for baths, dogs, family, doctors and all those other 'necessary things' thrust upon us by everyday life. I have to kick myself and mentally pinch myself whenever I feel the old resentment that I used to have for my day job whenever I have to stop what I'm doing to pay attention to family needs and friends. I don't want to be seen as having tunnel vision or as selfish, but I am accused of it quite often when I hear "that's all you ever think of... book, book, book!" or even worse "now that you've retired, you have plenty of time to do this or do that or the other". Surprisingly enough, I find that I need days with much more than 24 hours in order to get things done and when I have to sleep, I really feel like I'm wasting time. Now I need to make enough money to hire a housekeeper, a yardman, a cook and a chauffeur so that I can devote all my energy to writing. Well, wish me luck! :)

Strangely enough, I have always used my dreams as a source of ideas and scenes for my writing. Sometimes, just a character's face or perhaps something a character might say can be found in dreams. It is not unusual to see landscapes, buildings, rooms, etc. that fit perfectly into a story inside dreams. Sometimes, dreams are useful for feeling terror and/or horror so that the descriptions of such are authentic and believable.
Even stranger than using dreams in books and stories is the translating of dreams. This seems to be a talent that is not learned, but rather something that comes out of the blue. I have been able to translate dreams for several years; however, I am limited only to the people that I know really well. If a friend or family member relates a dream to me, the meaning of the symbols they have seen or the experiences within the dream simply comes to me our of seemingly nowhere. So far, I have been able to translate dreams very well, but I am not sure why I can do it or what I should do with the talent/gift. In all the dreams I have heard over the years, I have never heard any prophetic dreams. It seems that dreams are strange phenomena experienced by all, but prophetic dreams are not so common. From this, I can only assume that it is easier to interpret dreams than dream prophetic dreams.
I am waiting for that day when the Pharoah comes to me with the prophetic dream and I become rich and famous over night when I interpret it correctly.

In the meantime, I will have to just keep writing and hope to make myself rich and famous. :)

I've had more than a few questions from fans about why I would make my hero, Mark Andrew Ramsay, suffer so many pains and sorrows in the Assassin Chronicles and I've given the question a lot of thought.
At first, I thought maybe I was just being cruel and vindictive and wondered why I would take it out on him, but then I realized that Mark Andrew, the indomitable Knight of Death, would not be nearly as interesting or compelling, if he did not suffer the same slings and arrows as the rest of us.
Mark's past is dark, lost in shadows and things he would just as soon forget. Is this not the way with most of us? Everyone I know, at least, those willing to admit it, have things in their past that is better left under the floorboards, in the attic or behind the woodshed. Mark has an abundance of these shadowy things simply due to a few facts about him that we do NOT share with him. Namely, his age 800+/- years and his occupations: Assassin/Alchemist. Of course, his membership in the clandestine Order of the Red Cross of Gold doesn't really ease his pain, since the Order requires him to leave his comfortable seclusion in Scotland (none of us like to step outside our comfort zones, do we?) and they also have a set of archaic rules set up during the middle of the Dark Ages. These facts almost certainly lend themselves to a required measure of unhappiness.
I have assuredly shared his pains on many occasions, some mentally, others physically, but enough to be able to sympathize with him on several levels.
But not only is Mark's past darker than most,his future is pretty grim as well. He has worked for the Order, making gold in his creepy lab to support their efforts for almost a millennium and he has killed so many deserving and sometimes, undeserving, people, a career change at this late date is probably out of the question. Again, I found myself in the very same position as far as career changes only a few years ago. I wanted to be a full-time writer, but I had worked too hard, for too long at my job with the State of Texas to just throw it all away and take a chance on making a writing career pay off. At least I never had to assassinate anyone, even though the thought crossed my mind a number of times; but, on the other hand, neither could I ever figure out how to make gold from base metals in my cellar.
I think that Mark endears himself to us at some sub-conscious level when he falls hopelessly in love and then realizes that his dream of a simple life was always an illusion and would always be an illusion. It was as if his one and only dream of a simple life was suddenly shattered, leaving him adrift in a confusing and uncaring world, without the comfort of his hearth and home waiting to soothe his terrors away like the arms of the mother he never knew.
Mark Andrew is the epitome of the troubled bad boy that only wants to be left alone. I think we (young and old, rich and poor, male and female) can all relate to his struggle on more than one level, and I believe I have constructed his character, perhaps sub-consciously, based on the failings and short-comings of myself and everyone I've ever known intimately.
If the reader can find him or herself somewhere in his character, then I feel I have succeeded in creating an enduring characterization that most everyone can relate to this year, next year and for years to come.