Beth Alvarez's Blog, page 38

How shorter stories can make you a better writer

I’ve always liked reading people’s writing tips when I have a free moment. With the advent of smartphones, it’s easier than ever to peek at my feeds or pop in to check Pinterest for a few quick and creative ideas. I can research while I eat my breakfast cereal, instead of reading the nutrition facts of Raisin Bran for the 800th time, so that’s pretty cool.

Since I read a lot of advice from a lot of people, a lot of tips pop up over and over again. One of those is that if you want to be a better writer, you should write short stories. I don’t entirely agree. Should writers try writing short stories? Definitely! But maybe not the kind most people are thinking of.

Before I go too far, let me be clear that I don’t necessarily mean short stories in the traditional sense. Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA) defines a short story as anything 7,500 words or under. This is what most people are talking about when they encourage people to write short stories. Small enough to fit on a few pages, small enough to be printed in a literary journal. I do think the idea has merit, and yes, there’s a lot to be learned from writing short stories. more importantly, I think we should encourage people to write shorter stories, and that’s a different thing.

See, I tried writing short stories. I wrote a whole bunch of them for writing prompts, and there’s even a section over there on the left devoted to those short stories. I started because everyone told me I should, and I did learn from the experience, but you know what I learned?

That I hate writing short stories.

There are only a few things in that section that I actually ended up pleased with. The two short stories I planned to be short stories (Disposable Bodies and Eiri and the Dragon) and a handful of writing prompts, all of which have something in common.

Three of the four prompts I loved gave me a glimpse into the lives of characters who I can’t touch until I get to their books, all of which are at least a few years away. The fourth featured a character who was to appear in Born of the Moon, but ended up being cut to streamline the story. This is one of the reasons I ultimately decided short stories weren’t for me; the only reason I could make some work was because they were part of a bigger world.

On the other hand, there’s Gale’s Gift, and a second novelette I’m working on that I won’t talk about just yet. These are too long to be considered short stories, but they’re still shorter than most of what I write. And while I didn’t like doing short stories, I’ve loved working on these.

They give me enough space to do world building and add a sense of adventure, but they’re one tenth the length of the fantasy epics I’ve been working on the past few years. They’re also short enough that they demand more story be covered faster, cramming as much meaning into every paragraph as possible. And that’s why writing these shorter stories helped me improve; it drives home the need to make every piece of text valuable, probably better than any piece of writing advice I’ve ever read.

It’s not just something to apply to novellas and novelettes; it should be applied to every book written. Don’t skip writing the story that’s really important to you, just write it shorter, trying to cram it into as little space as possible without losing your meaning. It improves pacing and makes you more conscious of word usage. It also eliminates filler chapters, because you can’t spare a single page for something that isn’t actively moving some part of the story forward.

In some respects, you can think of it as a more hardcore form of editing, especially since the best way to practice is to take a page or paragraph from your existing story and then rework it, changing phrasing to convey the scene in as few words as possible. If the short paragraphs lack emotional impact, that gives you a clear indicator of where you need to improve, making you mindful of your word choices. It makes you more aware of the words that evoke emotion, drawing attention to the parts where they’re missing.

So no, writing short stories won’t necessarily make you a better writer. But taking your stories and making them shorter? That definitely will.

5 Quick Tips for Better World Building

I have a small group of people I allow to read my early book drafts. They’re the ones who give me solid, truthful feedback, are great at catching typos, and call me out when pieces of my story don’t add up. Last month I popped in to visit one who is currently working through the second book in my work-in-progress fantasy series. We turned the kids loose on a box of LEGOs, plopped on a couch, and the subject immediately turned to books.

“This book is so much faster,” she said. I agree; mostly because the world is already built.

As I’ve shared my fantasy books with both friends and strangers in seeking feedback, one consistent statement they make is they enjoy the world building that happens in the novels. Creating worlds is something I enjoy, so I’ve read a lot about doing it, but there are a few key points that I’ve had to learn myself. Everyone develops their own pieces of writing advice, though, so here’s some of mine: The things I wish I’d been told about world building before I started doing it myself.

 

1. Blend, Don’t Build.

When you need a quick start, blending real cultures to create new ones to populate your fictional world is the best and easiest starting point. You can always add on later, fleshing them out however much you want, but taking a few key elements from people and places around the world and mixing them lays the ground work fast. Blurring the lines between the two is where your imagination fills in the blanks, creating new and unique twists to the civilizations you’ve created. Plus, having a real-life basis for your creations lends an air of familiarity, which makes it easier for people to connect to your fictional world.

There’s one catch, though: You can’t just clip whatever you want and toss it in with no thought. If there’s something you like about a culture, you have to research it first before creating a mash-up with something else. Remember that what you’re building on is the framework that real people have created over thousands of years. Be respectful.

 

2. Opposites attract, which makes for interesting worlds.

This, of course, grows out of the point above. It’s a cliche saying, but it’s true. We like things that conflict, because we want to know what makes it work. The most interesting blends come from mixing cultures that contradict each other.

One good example is James Gurney’s Dinotopia series, which blends a technologically developed society about on par with Victorian ages with the prehistoric wonder of dinosaurs. That resplendent era clashes with the primitive nature of the beasts that populate the world, creating an intriguing setting. In that setting, dinosaurs have their own developed and refined purpose, which makes their inclusion more believable and adds a unique flavor to the world.

 

3. Fill in the empty space.

Generally speaking, most books don’t contain a ton of globetrotting. Even if you create a vast world for your stories to take place in, you’ll probably only visit a handful of locations in each volume. But these aren’t the only places you should be creating; your world is much bigger than that.

Open any map and just glance over it. There are hundreds of major roadways and thousands of cities, probably more than you could ever visit. Fictional worlds are like that too, and the people who live in these worlds know it. They might mention a grandmother in a certain township, or a childhood vacation to a city on the coast. If nothing else, when creating a map, take the time to fill all your empty space with a variety of locations. It’s a small step that can lend a lot of flavor to your world, even if these places never come into play.

 

4. When you visit a book’s world, you’re a tourist.

That’s why simple insights into a culture are almost always best. Characters live in this world, but we don’t; they’re already familiar with the ins and outs of traditions and cultural norms. Filtering everything through that lens paints an interesting picture. People feel a sense of awe when they only get peeks into what a world is like. It’s new and exotic and spurs curiosity.

It also meshes well with the “show, don’t tell” principle, and the practice of sprinkling background information in just a little at a time. Build your world in a way that makes people eager to peek down the next narrow street when your story takes a turn.

 

5. Don’t let world building interfere with a first draft.

This one seems to be a big issue for people, and I admit it was an issue for me, too! It’s easy to get caught up in the idea that you need to have your world fleshed out and developed before you get started, but it’s simply not true.

Rarely does the story being told depend on more than the most basic information about the world it’s in. More often than not, the world works better if it’s shaped by the actions of the characters within the story, anyway. Just think of it: Our world’s cultures and countries are all the result of people’s actions. They’d develop in fictional worlds the same way and, sometimes, the best way to get a feeling for the world you’re creating is to jump into it with both feet and see where the trip takes you.

Not only that, but a first draft is always rough. All the fleshing out and refining of the story–and the world–will happen later, so don’t let it bog you down. A well-built world offers a lot of support to a good story, but a bad story can’t save a good world.

I could talk about world building for pages, but from my experience, those points are the most important to me–and also the points I’ve rarely (if ever) seen anyone talk about.

Do you have any writing tips you’ve picked up in your experience?

Tea review: Mindful Morning black tea from Plum Deluxe

On a gorgeous day last week, I received a surprise email from Andy Hayes, founder of Plum Deluxe, offering me a spot of tea–his treat. Being fresh out of tea to review, it couldn’t have been better for me. I was happy to accept the offer, especially since I’d been on the prowl for new places to try.

There are a few things that make Plum Deluxe special. For one, there’s the tea of the month club, which is reasonably priced and offers unique blends only available to members. There’s also the fact it’s a small, independently-owned company. Then there was the part of Andy’s message to me that hit hardest; the way his mother’s vibrant life inspired the creation of the company after she succumbed to cancer.

Tea is a connection to my own mother, and one I wish we could share together more often than our 400 miles of separation allow. She’s always collected teapots, and while I grew up, she always had time for a tea party with her girls, often with a different beautiful teapot for every party.

So my mom was on my mind when I went to the mailbox and discovered the pretty purple envelope of teas waiting for me, several days sooner than I thought it would arrive. Fast shipping is always a plus for online purchases, and even better was the fact the contents were so fresh I could smell them through the envelope.

I received four kinds, but since this post is about the Mindful Morning black tea, I’ll leave the others for later.

Since developing such fondness for Earl Grey teas, I was thrilled to see this one in the mix. The only thing I don’t like about Earl Grey is that it’s hard to find one with a good balance between robust tea and the soothing bergamot that creates the trademark flavor. I like flavorful tea, so a lot are too mild for my tastes, but nothing about this blend was disappointing.

I was surprised by the intensity of flavor, since a lot of Earl Greys I’ve tried in the past are a bit lacking on the tea side. This is a bold black tea that brews strong even in small amounts. Unsweetened, the flavor of the tea is what stands out most. Adding a little rock sugar brings out the citrus, creating a tea that’s refreshing and perfect for a morning punch, somewhere other Earl Greys tend to fall short.

But where this tea really shines is after the addition of just a splash of milk. Milk enhances the subtle vanilla flavor, creating a heavenly blend with just the right balance of full-bodied flavors.

So how does it compare to Persimmon Tree’s Earl Grey, which was the last type I reviewed?

They’re very different blends. Mindful Morning is much more robust and balanced, while Persimmon Tree Tea’s blend relies more heavily on vanilla to create a memorable flavor. The dynamic way the Mindful Morning blend’s flavor shifts depending on what you add to it also makes it easy to customize to meet whatever you’re looking for in a tea on any particular day.

Overall, I’d consider it a tea shelf staple, and I’m delighted to add it to my collection. If you’re looking for a solid Earl Grey blend, definitely give this one a try.

I have three more teas from Plum Deluxe to review, so I’ll be sharing more soon!

A Journey of Days

Late last summer, in an attempt to increase my productivity, I bought a day planner and created my own customized inserts for it. I’d been making lists for a while, and while they did help me keep on track, I always felt like it was hard to keep the lists themselves organized. It was easy to lose them and hard to compare them, and since keeping them for reference made a lot of paper clutter–something I hate–I just didn’t. I spent a lot of time testing and comparing productivity apps, hoping my phone could help me keep notes and lists and calendars digitally, but nothing did what I wanted. Nothing could beat the good old fashioned paper planner, so that was the route I took.

It wasn’t just about organization, though. It was about being able to keep a visible log of effort, track the time I spent doing different things, learn where to cut corners and determine what efforts produced the best results. I’m big on the idea of work smarter, not harder, so cutting out wasted time to make room for better things and keeping myself on task was important. And more importantly, I wanted to be able to see progress as I crept toward my goals.

The old saying about how a journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step was heavy on my mind when I purchased my planner. It’s hard to track a journey’s progress when it’s a metaphorical journey and not an actual trip, partly because we never know how long it will take to reach our destination. I know where I’m headed, but there’s no clear path, and everyone who sets out on a quest to publish their work ends up following a different road. I decided to take my own journey; not of a thousand miles, but a thousand days. And not necessarily expecting publication at the end, but to create my own landmarks and see just how far that stretch of time will get me.

The first of April marked the first quarter of my trip: 250 days since I started tracking my progress in a section of my planner. In that time, I’ve filled two and a half pages with accomplishments. I don’t have a clear rule for what goes in there, just anything that I’m particularly proud of when it’s done, or something that’s been on the to-do list for a while. Early on, as I started making time to draw again, completing a major art piece found its way onto the list. It might seem small, but that achievement is rubbing elbows with lines describing completed major household repairs, completion of a novel and novelette, and learning new skills.

If you ask me where I’m going, though, I couldn’t really tell you. I’m one third of the way done with my current novel project, but I’ve outlined several upcoming projects and have them ready to tackle when this one is done. I’m not sure if I’ll make progress on my journey toward publication on this trip of a thousand days, but at least now, I can see my progress, and face a reminder every morning that all I have to do is take one day at a time to watch my life change–hopefully for the better.

What I cut to make my fantasy series better

As is typical of beginning authors, when I first started developing my own fantasy world, I packed as much as possible into it. Every fantasy creature under the sun could be found roaming the planet, and usually all in the same area. Most of my stories originally took place in Aldaan, a small region on the northern continent I created, but the original version of Aldaan was known for a few native species: elves, gryphons, and dragons.

Dragons are one of those creatures that everyone seems to love. I don’t think I’ve ever encountered anyone who disliked dragons. Just those who liked them, and those who really liked them. I have friends who live and breathe for tales with dragons, so I’m sure they’ll be a little bit sad to read this, but Aldaan’s dragons? They didn’t make the cut.

When I was young, having virtually every type of fantasy creature seemed like a great idea. I loved mythology and spent a lot of time wondering what it would be like to live in a world that had it all, forgetting one very important point of world building. In a world without widespread use of books and long-distance communication, where travel is long and tedious, cultures tend to stay isolated.

In our world, we can usually connect mythical creatures to particular regions. Greek and Roman mythology gave us harpies and centaurs, while the Irish are responsible for banshees. We know about them because of widespread knowledge and ease of communication in modern times. Pushing all these creatures together eliminates any real cultural definition to the mythology. But more importantly, it just becomes too much.

A while back I picked up a sample of an e-book that sounded interesting, and the writing was good, but I ended up not reading more than the first chapter because the author had fallen into this trap. In the very first chapter, we had the human main character mingling with elves, orcs, vampires, centaurs, ghosts, dragons–pretty much anything you could think of. As I said, it wasn’t bad, it was just too much. It was overwhelming, robbing the characters we were introduced to of any meaningful or clear identity, since their only identifier seemed to be which mythological creature they were.

Truthfully, I feel like I only narrowly avoided this pitfall. I had a lot more variety in species in the first book for a long time, but when I sat down to finally finish the first draft–which meant starting at the beginning and fixing all the horrible mistakes–I decided that the best thing I could do for the series was cut anything that wasn’t absolutely necessary to the story I was telling.

And so the wide assortment of fantasy creatures fell by the wayside. Valuable and interesting, but not the best it could be, nor vital to what I needed. Like peeling layers of scratched and damaged nacre from a pearl to get to the quality gem hidden underneath.

When I was done paring, I was left with a narrower cast: humans, my own version of elves, and gryphons were the only ones to make it to the final cut.

But that’s not to say there won’t be others. Our world is a big place, and there’s a lot of the world I’ve created left to explore and develop. But they will have their own clear set of mythological creatures lending depth to their culture, and each of them will only exist as long as they serve a very clear purpose to the story.

Will there be dragons?

Maybe, somewhere.

Magical transportation

One of the biggest challenges I’ve encountered in writing my fantasy books is working out magical transportation. I mean, magical gateways are nothing new. Portals have been around for as long as people have believed in magic, but that’s part of the problem: when magic portals have been around forever, it’s hard to use them in an interesting way.

Every fantasy series I’ve read of late has some sort of portal system, and it’s been a relief that over the past 10 years as I’ve worked out the rules for mine, I haven’t encountered anything that works quite the same way. There will always be similarities; there’s only so much you can do when mage travel is involved. But I knew I didn’t want teleportation to be an option, and gateways needed to be special.

As with most cases where magic exists, it’s important to establish some ground rules that keep it from making things too easy. Mages range in strength from ineffective to bordering on all-powerful, so the first solution was a simple element: establishing that not every mage can open a Gate.

In my world, there are two types of mage. Bound mages and free mages have a number of differences between them, but free mages are rare to the point of being mythical. So free mages won, here: they’re the only mages who can open a Gate on their own.

The second rule I established was an extension of the first. Bound mages have access to Gates, of course, but it takes a number of them to open one, generally half a dozen or more. Since even bound mages aren’t exactly common, that immediately cuts down the opportunity for Gates to be used.

The third rule was another standard in fantasy travel: a Gate cannot be opened to somewhere you’ve never been. But while other series fail to account for the way time changes locations, I used that to my advantage. If a mage hasn’t been to a place recently, and the location has changed too much from their memory of it, they can’t reach it. A more experienced mage would have a better idea of how to work around this problem, though; opening a Gate using a specific and memorable carving on a tree as the anchor point, rather than a view of a familiar forest, would grant enough leeway to make the Gating attempt more successful. But this introduces its own set of risks, as if that tree has new carvings or lost too much of its crown in a recent storm, it would no longer be viable as a destination. This also allows a facet of danger: Gates are wild and unpredictable, and require a lot of power to control. When a Gate is misdirected, if there aren’t enough mages to stabilize and dissipate the energy that has nowhere to go, it could spell catastrophe for the whole group.

The fourth rule adds flavor, but also increases the risks that come from chancing a Gate. Gates opened without an anchor point–another mage or a magical artifact expressing power on the other end to open it–are only functional in one direction. You can see where you’re going, but once you’re through, that’s it; if there’s no anchor on the other side, there’s no going back.

There are more small tidbits about how Gates work in the world I’ve created, but these are the important ones. Magical transportation is a luxury, and robbing it of convenience helps make Ithilear a more interesting world–especially when access to Gates can make or break a country as a world power.

Cover Reveal: Sea of Twisted Souls

Two years ago when author Megan Cutler asked me to design the cover art for her first book, I knew there was a chance I could be doing art for future installments of the series. It was a little nerve-wracking, making sure I provided something that satisfied, but it was a delight to revisit vector work and stretch my artistic wings.

The first and second covers were simple and straightforward. We worked out a vision and I did a few sketches, easily reaching an end result we were both happy with. The third book was a bit more of a challenge.

I drew three or four drafts, each not quite what we wanted, though it was difficult to put a finger on what exactly needed to change. There were ocean ripples of every size and shape, a version with a lot of sparkle and some kind of Aurora Borealis effect, and one with a swirl which was close, but not quite. Eventually Megan hit on the right word for what we really wanted: a whirlpool.

A whirlpool of souls.

I jokingly mentioned Disney’s Hercules as a point of reference, asking if we were too old for Disney references to be relevant. The answer, of course, is certainly not; Disney references never stop being relevant or appropriate, and it put us on the path to the final version of the cover, which was a delight to draw.

And now, in less than a month, it will be live on every major e-book retailer.

Here it is: Sea of Twisted Souls!

It’s been sixteen years since Damian departed the island. Sixteen years since he broke his promise to be there when Morulin needed him. Now an adult, she’s ready to take the reins of rule from her father, but he has chosen to pass his position to her brother instead.

When Damian reappears without warning, Morulin isn’t interested in making amends. She’d rather spend her time with the enigmatic Pilgrim, a dimensional traveler with plenty of stories to tell. That Damian seems to loathe him only makes his company more appealing. But she can’t ignore her stepfather’s strange behavior, especially when someone attempts to assassinate the island’s new heir.

Damian insists the Pilgrim is responsible, but Morulin isn’t convinced. Could he be trying to frame his new rival? Or has something more sinister come to visit their island paradise? If Morulin’s family can’t heal their fractures in time to solve the mystery, they might lose their beloved dimension-hopping home.

Sea of Twisted Souls will be released Tuesday, April 5th, and is available for pre-order on Amazon.

Not familiar with the series? Island of Lost Forevers, the first book in the trilogy, is now on sale for just 99 cents.

You can pick up the whole series at the following retailers:

Amazon

Smashwords

Barnes and Noble

Kobo

DriveThru Fiction

And if you’re curious about Megan, you can see more of her work and get a glimpse into her life at http://megancutler.net.

I’m traveling this week, so my blog will resume normal updates next Tuesday.

Happy reading!

New year, new look

Okay, so maybe it’s a little late in 2016 to be referring to it as a new year.  But it is a new look, so that counts for something.

It’s amazing how time gets away from you. I didn’t realize until a few weeks ago that my webpage had been sporting the same theme for almost four years. And while there wasn’t necessarily anything wrong with it, I used to change up my websites at least once a year, so it did start to feel a little stale. But overall, it worked. That was a big deal for me; most often I redesigned my page because I felt it wasn’t optimized for what I was doing.

The fact that it worked is why so little has changed in this iteration of the page. The colors are different, and the art gallery link has moved from the sidebar (which is now reserved for writing only) to the navigation bar above. Otherwise, everything is still exactly where you remember it.

So why change? Well, for sake of something different. For something a little fresh, a little more modern, a little more fitting for the variety of stories I write. That’s why the new page has dusky colors pulled from a photo of a sunset. This encompasses both worlds of my writing: the paranormal part is about vampires and other night creatures, while the fantasy part is set in a world where the night sky is a huge influence.

A few other things have been adjusted, like tweaking alignment of some things and making a more defined break between posts on the blog, as well as some serious cleanup to the comments form to make pages more attractive. That’s a bit more technical, though, and probably not interesting to most people reading this.

Instead, just scroll down–if you aren’t on mobile–and enjoy the CSS sorcery that is a hex code gradient that adjusts itself to the length of the page! The updated mobile look will be coming in a few weeks.

Persimmon Tree Tea’s White Guava

White teas are a challenge for me. Either I make them too weak or I end up scorching them and they come out bitter. That’s part of the reason I waited so long to get around to trying this one.

Persimmon Tree Tea’s White Guava blend is one of the prettiest blends I’ve seen, which is something white teas seem to have in common. They’re always mixed with pretty fruit bits and flower petals, and in that department, this one doesn’t disappoint. The silvery white tea leaves provide a cool backdrop for the peachy colored pieces of dried guava and strawberry, and peony petals provide a splash of ivory.

As far as taste, though, I find it lackluster. I don’t mind weak teas as long as there’s enough flavor to compensate, and whites are often delicate. The guava is the only real flavor punch here, and while it’s not bad, it’s not great, either. It could just be that guava isn’t one of my favorite fruits, but I feel like it needs something else to round it out. The strawberry is virtually unnoticeable, which is a shame, because the sweet-tart punch of berry might kick this tea up to being something special. As it is, it just needs a little more.

This is also the last tea I had on my list to drink and review, which means I won’t be posting any more tea reviews for a little while. I need to drink up some of my favorites before I go shopping again, but I’ll likely be hitting a few places for something new to try in the next few months, so if you have a recommendation, please share!

A Drawing a Month

When I was a teenager, I started pursuing art as a means to show people what my characters looked like. There’s only so much you can do with words; at the end of the day, a glance at an image is always better to show people what’s in your head.

It’s not often, though, that an image looks anything like what was in my head when I started.

For a long time, I thought art was something I could do seriously. Maybe as a commission artist, maybe doing comics, maybe teaching. I pursued visual arts in college, but it was never my first passion. It was just one hobby of many, and truthfully, I’ve never thought myself great at it. I’ve drawn things I was proud of, obviously, but it’s not the same as getting something out onto paper and having it be just exactly what you wanted.

When I became a parent, my free time evaporated. I found myself forced to pick just one thing to work on each night, and sometimes I was too tired to work at all. So, like with any skill, my ability with art has atrophied over the years. I’d like to improve again, which is why one of my goals for the new year was to pick up the pencil again. I decided to start small: if I could find time to do one drawing each month, I’d be happy.

I did two in January. One was a quick and rough digital painting of Sera, a character from Serpent’s Wake. The other was a cover for one of Megan Cutler’s upcoming books.

For February, I did a character portrait, then  decided to work on a commission I should have finished a long time ago; hopefully that will be what I finish this month. My inability to be satisfied with my art is exactly why I shouldn’t take commissions, really–because someone paid me for it, I want it to be absolutely perfect. But the problem with that is it’ll never be perfect, and it’ll never be the best I can do, because the longer I practice, the better I get. And by the time I go back and repaint the parts that I can do better now, I’d be better at other things, creating a vicious cycle that’s impossible to escape.

Sometimes, you have to learn when to stop. This is something I’ve learned through writing, especially; I could edit something a hundred times and it would be better with each pass, but nobody would ever see it, because it would never be done. It’s okay for something to be imperfect, as long as you’re willing to mark it complete. Even if you know you can do better, even if you feel like you should do more, it’s important to learn when to stop.

So that’s something I’ve tried to apply to art. I can pick at it forever and not finish and never be happy, or I can move on and call it done and be able to move to the next project. The latter is certainly more appealing, and gives me a lot more content to work with, too. Sometimes enthusiasm wanes after starting a project, too, both with art and writing. Perseverance is great, and it’s necessary for things like finishing a novel, but at some point the number of leaves I draw in the background of an image simply won’t matter.

I’ve had trouble deciding whether or not I should add sketches to my gallery here, and also whether or not I should show art done for the second and third books in my trilogy. I think I will, but selectively, since I don’t want to give any spoilers by mistake. And if I draw one or two a month, I might have portraits for the entire cast by the time the first book makes it off my writing table and out into the world. They won’t be perfect, but they’ll be practice. If nothing else, practice makes perfect, right?