Benjamin M. Weilert's Blog: BMW the Blog, page 11

10 years of journaling (and what it has taught me)

Ten years of journals.

Earlier this year, I started polishing up the first draft of Fourteener Father, which I wrote last November. Because the time span this memoir covers was so vast (20+ years), one of the details I needed to flesh out had escaped my memory. It did not, however, escape my journal. Knowing the date I climbed the mountain in question; I used my journal entries of the nearby dates to nail down the detail I had forgotten. However, I was surprised to learn an interesting fact when flipping through my old journals. I have been journaling for over ten years now. That’s a decade of my life written down and kept for posterity.

Now, there’s been plenty of changes in my life since I began writing to myself on January 1, 2007. I’ve graduated college with a Bachelors and a Masters degree in Engineering, moved to Alabama, written numerous novels, moved back to Colorado, dated and eventually married my wife. These simple, daily logs contain a lot of life. So, what was the point in filling out blank pages on (almost) 8 entire journal books?

A lot can happen in ten years.

Part of the reason I started journaling was so I could get some of the many ideas trapped in my head out onto paper. For me, the simple act of writing something down helped me to remember it, even if it was a silly idea or whimsical musing. While I don’t necessarily use it for this as much as I would have liked, when I go back and read some of these entries, a lot of them involve documenting the activities of the day. They also include mention of some of the activities I’m looking forward to (or dreading) in the following days. Some days I have plenty to write about, and others are quite banal, but I wrote them nonetheless. I wrote every day because I developed the routine.

So, even though my daily writing routine was never part of a writing project, it did help me with a few things. First, it kept my handwriting (somewhat) legible. I could have typed these journal entries into a word processor, but something as intimate as my life felt safer in the paper clutches of a physical journal. I may type these journals up sometime, so they’re easier to search through, but part of the charm is going back through them and reading what I had to say at the time.

Daily writing helped to clear my head.

Secondly, writing about my life every day helps me to condense it down into a single-page format. Suddenly, my worries don’t seem so significant. Being able to vent into my journal has helped me to figure out what I’m particularly irked about. In committing my frustrations and insecurities to the page, I can release them and allow them to (hopefully) not bother me any longer.

While this whole exercise might seem pointless to you, let me leave you with the single and best lesson I have learned through a decade of journaling. If the point was just to document my life, I have a spreadsheet with a history of every purchase I’ve ever made (even if it’s only capturing seven years at this point, and not ten). While this is good to trigger the memory during tax season, there’s no story behind it. The main point of journaling is to show the journey of life. We all struggle with some challenge. We all have hopes and dreams. We all have fears. For me, there’s no greater joy than to go back and read years of my frustrations with the dating scene, only to know that the entry for July 22, 2013, would change everything.

What do you do to document your life story?

When a short story is no longer a short story

Over the years, I’ve usually planned out my writing pretty well. I always felt that each element of the plot had a purpose and a place that added to the cohesive whole of the story. Consequently, I’ve really struggled with the concept of “killing your darlings.” For those of you who haven’t heard about this writing tactic, it essentially boils down to being able to let go of certain aspects of your story, especially when they don’t add anything to the plot. Part of the reason I’ve been unable to remove some of these sections from my writing is because I find they’re usually quite intertwined with the rest of the story and to remove them would require massive restructuring of the whole plot.

To kill your darlings, you must be able to recognize them for what they are.

In writing my short story for the next Midnight Writers’ Anthology, I suddenly found the story I wanted to tell was much longer than the word count limit for the submission. While I am one of the authors putting together this anthology, I knew there was a little leeway when it came to our own stories. Still, I wanted to honor the limit for the sake of the other authors submitting short stories to the anthology.

I liked the story so much, I even made a banner for it.

Try as I might, I couldn’t edit the story down to the requisite number of words. My main issue was with “Act 3” of the story. I really liked the character development, action, and revelations contained within it, but it was essentially the same length as the first two acts before it. When I went through and did my first revision, I came to a realization: the story worked fine at the end of Act 2. Now I was torn. Do I cut the story off at Act 2, or do I decimate Act 3 to get it within the word count limits?

When does your short story become something more?

As a reader, I always appreciate all the plot points and other questions to be wrapped up by the end of the story. Unfortunately, the short story format isn’t big enough to really accomplish this. It was at this point I realized I had to kill my darling. I had to axe Act 3. Sure, the tone of the ending ended up being much lighter at the end of Act 2 as compared to its Act 3 counterpart, but it still worked as an ending.

I don’t regret cutting the story off at the Act 2 juncture. If anything, Act 3 told me there were a lot more ideas to explore with this story. My short story was a good start, but there is certainly a novel-length plot here. In revising the story down to its most simple concepts, I found the plot as a whole has merit on a much larger scale. Maybe it’s because I’m more used to writing novels than short stories, but it’s important for me to know if I have enough material to fill a novel, and this editing exercise helped prove it to me.

So, ask yourself: is this darling holding back your short story or is it merely the inkling of something bigger?

What you need to know about your fandom

I don’t have a fandom like J.K. Rowling or J.R.R. Tolkien (maybe I don’t have enough initials in my pen name). In fact, I don’t really have a fandom at all. However, I am certainly a fan of certain franchises. Sometimes I find myself cringing when these franchises are either rebooted or remade. Sure, there is always some hope that the new material can successfully capture the elements that made the original the hit that it was. However, this is rarely the case.

Before we give our fans what they want, we need to understand what it is.

For example’s sake, let’s look at two famous sci-fi franchises that have some very die-hard followers: Star Wars and Star Trek. Everyone agrees that these two franchises are similar in that they are both in the science fiction genre, but that’s essentially where the similarities end. In fact, these fandoms are almost so vehemently adamant on the superiority of their source material that you will rarely find someone who finds the two of them on equal ground.

What does this movie . . .

I’m a fan of Star Wars, so let me start with the Star Trek reboot series that began in 2009. I liked it. Both Star Trek (2009) and Star Trek: Into Darkness (2013) were enjoyable movies for me. This may have been because I enjoy the works of J.J. Abrams, but there’s more to it than that. Part of why I like Star Wars more than Star Trek is that I can watch the base canon of Star Wars in a single day. Star Trek, on the other hand, requires me to watch numerous seasons and series that I just don’t have the time for. So, why do I like these new Star Trek movies? They were flashy, fun, and full of action! Fans of Star Trek, however, begged to differ.

I began to wonder why the true fans of Star Trek disliked these movies? They had all the elements that made Star Trek memorable: the classic crew, tribbles, Khan. Then why is Star Trek: Into Darkness (in particular) such a terrible movie for them? It’s because it ignores the base reason why they like the franchise at all. It’s not about the action or battles, but more about the journey. It’s about the Trek. A good friend of mine explained it this way, “The new Star Trek films were created in such a way that they were essentially Star Wars films.” Even with the “memes” of Star Trek present in these reboots, the tone was so different that it turned its fandom off.

. . . have in common with this one?

Looking back at the prequel trilogy for Star Wars, I see that it also had the same problem. The worst film of this set, Episode I: The Phantom Menace (1999) had gotten everyone’s hopes up because we had been starved for new Star Wars material for many years. Unfortunately, only the “popular” elements of the original trilogy were taken into the prequel trilogy, without the cohesive synergy to make them work their magic again. So much of what was wrong with The Phantom Menace was because the wrong things were being focused on. While C-3P0 was amusing in the first trilogy, we didn’t need a Jar Jar Binks to really force the comedy. Lightsaber battles were exciting, so why not give the bad guy two of them? Granted, some of these things worked, but it felt too forced.

Fast forward to today and the rave reviews people have given Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015). While the plot was essentially pulled from Episode IV: A New Hope (1977), enough of it was different to be interesting, but it also managed to maintain that base element of synergy that made the first film in the series work (while also trimming some of what didn’t). A lot of The Force Awakens’ success came in recognizing that new technology (like CGI) might not be necessary when trying to emulate something that worked in the past.

Franchises can live and die by the opinion of their fandoms.

So, what does this mean to you as a content creator? If you are lucky enough to garner yourself a fandom, take some time to listen to them. Find out what they like about your content. While they’ll still want something new from you, there are certain themes and motifs that will keep them coming back for more. Part of why the reboots of these franchises were shunned by their fandoms is that they were made with only a cursory knowledge of the elements that made them successful. The true success comes in listening to your fans and being able to deliver what they actually want. J.K. Rowling certainly recognizes this, and I hope to one day have enough fans to capitalize on it too.

3 Simple Tips when submitting to an Anthology

Despite the almost ubiquitous availability of affordable self-publishing these days, sometimes it can be difficult to make your mark as an author. In fact, I would almost argue that the proliferation of self-published works has made it much harder to reach an audience of readers, as they now have a multitude of options when it comes to reading material. With this challenge in mind, one of the ways you can boost your name recognition is through anthologies.

While you won’t have as much control over your written work as you would if you self-published a series of your own short stories yourself, the benefit of an anthology is being included in a book with a number of other authors who have fanbases who might be similar to the people you are trying to reach. In fact, someone might buy an anthology because they know one of the authors, only to find that they really like your story as well, thus increasing your own fanbase in the process.

A great way to get your name out there is to be in an anthology!

I have been included in a number of anthologies over the years, but it wasn’t until this year when I was actually involved in the process of creating one. As a member of the Midnight Writers, we decided to continue releasing an anthology each year. While I wasn’t a part of the group when the first anthology was released, I was certainly excited to write to this year’s theme of “Domesticated Velociraptors.” As we talked with more people, many of them were interested in submitting to our anthology. Originally the core members of the group were going to be the only ones with stories in the anthology, but once we decided to make it open to submissions, our work became exponentially more complicated. Even so, I think we have some of the greatest stories in this anthology, and some of the best ones weren’t even written by the Midnight Writers.

Who wouldn’t want to read this anthology?

Because I hadn’t been involved in creating an anthology before, it was quite the learning process. With other people’s stories included in our anthology, we had to read each of the submitted stories (of which there were over two dozen), determine which ones were the best of the bunch, and write up contracts to make sure the accepted authors were compensated for their stories. Once we had final edits in from the authors, we had to compile them into a paperback and e-book format, create a cover, and set up online distribution channels. Fortunately for us, most of the Midnight Writers have self-published before, so this process wasn’t too difficult, even if it did require more coordination between each one of us because we weren’t working on our own projects alone.

So, as someone who has had to read through a lot of great (and not so great) stories for this anthology, let me give you the top three tips when you submit a story to an anthology:

Make sure the story matches the requirements – There were a number of stories submitted for the anthology that we immediately rejected. Why? Because the story had nothing to do with Domesticated Velociraptors. These are the easy stories to cull from the bunch, but it still makes us wonder if the person submitting the story just used a pre-existing story they had written and submitted it regardless of the anthology’s theme. Similarly, make sure your content is equitable to the “rating”. If the anthology is only accepting stories at a “PG-13” level, you’ll probably have to cut out a lot of the objectionable content, assuming they don’t reject it outright. Finally, if your story doesn’t meet the word count requirements, it also might be rejected (however, if it’s a good enough story, they might make an exception).
Run your story by some friends – While I’m sure plenty of authors are great at churning out fantastic first drafts, some of the stories we rejected probably could have been made better if someone else read them before they were submitted. If you already have an editor, dedicated beta readers, or even some friends who could give you an honest opinion, let them read through your story before you submit it. They’ll probably find weaknesses that could prevent your story from making it into the anthology.
Simple proofreading – If your story is unreadable because of all the typos and poor grammar, most anthologies probably won’t consider it because it would be too much work to fix. In fact, if these errors distract from your story, you might find that your great idea isn’t accepted because the reviewers couldn’t stand the errata. Before you submit your story, make sure to at least run it through your word processor’s internal proofreading checks. If you see little red, green, and blue squiggles underneath your words, it might mean there’s something there that needs to be fixed.

While these three tips are good if you’re submitting to an anthology, there is a fourth tip to consider as well: don’t be discouraged if you don’t get accepted. There were plenty of stories submitted to the Domesticated Velociraptor anthology that we couldn’t include due to space limitations. In fact, there were even some stories I liked that the other members of the group didn’t. When it comes right down to it, you may still have a great story, but there are a lot of factors to consider when putting together an anthology. Don’t give up hope! Keep the story tucked away and maybe you’ll be able to make something bigger out of it. Heck, you might even be able to submit it to another anthology (if the theme’s close enough)!

Whether or not your story made it into the anthology you submitted to, consider buying a copy to see what other authors wrote for the theme. Who knows, maybe you can become their fan?

The Midnight Writers’ Anthology: Domesticated Velociraptors can be ordered on Amazon.

Case for the Gigasecond

Time is such an odd thing to measure. Depending on the circumstances, time can feel a lot longer or shorter than it actually is. What’s really strange about time is the fact that it can never be measured twice. Sure, you can measure the same amount of time again, but you will never be able to measure that exact same section of time again. It’s gone, relinquished to the past. Does this mean that scientific measurements involving time cannot be repeated? If we want to be bogged down in semantics, nothing is ever repeatable because the time will never be the same. In fact, the ever-changing nature of time could almost be considered the purest universal constant.

Now you might be asking yourself why I’m currently so focused on time. Well, as a matter of fact, my birthday is at the end of September. Last year I turned 30 years old, and it struck me that I had actually reached “full adulthood” earlier in the year, not on the day of my birthday. I didn’t define my adulthood by a scale of time, like a specific number of years, but instead by experiences. By the time I turned thirty (in fact, in the year before this milestone) I got married, bought a house, and started wearing glasses. To me, these things not only made me feel older, but confirmed my suspicions that I’d become a complete adult (gasp!). Now that I’m upon the cusp of turning 31, I realize that I’ve reached the denouement of this life stage as I look into what the future holds for me. I’ve also made a determination about life in regards to the unit of time: years don’t cut it.

Me, newly born.

Sure, a year is a good distinguisher that helps mark the advancement of our age, but it really isn’t sufficient in denoting our life. Have you ever asked a child on their birthday if they feel older? Most of the time, the answer you’ll receive is “no”. A year just isn’t big enough to show a definitive change in our lives. Decades get a little closer to the goal, as we can clearly remember our life stages from when we were born to when we became a teenager and furthermore when we entered our twenties. Unfortunately, life gets a little complicated in the 20’s and 30’s and start to jumble together quite a bit. Furthermore, the later decades can sometimes be indistinguishable, as they are usually filled with retirement. The “score” (from Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address) covers 20 years, but it only works for the first score of a person’s life, as there’s a pretty good distinction between everything before you turn twenty and everything after you turn twenty, but there’s less of a correlation at 40 and 60.

We need a unit of time to designate life stages

Of course, there are odd units of time out there that might be better demarcations of a person’s life. Some units are too small, like the “atom”, which itself makes up an “ounce” if there are 47 of them. But even 12 ounces must be collected in “moments” (which are just a mere 90 seconds, in case you ever need a “moment”). Furthermore, ten moments make a “point”, of which four make an hour. Now we’re back to a unit everyone recognizes, which clearly is much too small to measure the stages of life. A “lustrum” is a mere five years, but add it to an “Indiction” (a 15-year cycle) and now we’re back to a “score”. It is my opinion that we need a unit larger than 20 years to indicate which life stage we’re currently occupying.

“But!” I hear you cry, “What about a ‘generation’?” Ah, yes. This unit isn’t really a specific measurement as much as it is a notation of how old your progeny must be before they create the next generation. In fact, since it’s tied to average age of mothers, the definition of a “generation” has changed over time. Most people think a generation is 20 years, but it’s actually a bit closer to 25.5. Therefore, since this designation of time isn’t a firm unit, might I suggest something a little more . . . metric? May I present to you:

THE GIGASECOND!

This unit of time is exactly what it sounds like (i.e. one billion seconds), which makes it simple to understand. For the sake of argument, let’s assume that life can be defined by three distinct phases and that (barring any accidents or genetic predisposition to diseases) a fully-lived life lasts about 95 years. A single gigasecond works out to about 31.7 years, so let’s look at the stages of life we can define by gigaseconds:

1st gigasecond (0 to 31.7 years): Formative years, usually concluding in the following . . .

Marriage
Home ownership
Children


2nd gigasecond (31.7 to 63.4 years): Parenting years, usually concluding in the following . . .

House fully paid off
Children grown and on their own
Job nearing retirement


3rd gigasecond (63.4 to 95.1 years): Retirement years, usually concluding in the following . . .

Grandchildren (and possibly even Great-Grandchildren)
Potentially limiting physical conditions
Nearing end of life


4th gigasecond (95.1 to 126.8 years): Bonus round, usually concluding in the following . . .

World record-setting longevity

As you can see, clearly most lives can be categorized into three gigaseconds. Obviously there will be outliers, as there are in any collective set of data, but I think this system really captures the different stages of life. So, while I approach my 31st birthday, I’ll merely celebrate being once again in my prime (because 31 is a prime number, after all) as I start to plan for my gigasecond party at the beginning of June. I’m not sure how I would celebrate such an event, as I believe I may be the first person ever to celebrate gigaseconds.

I’m certainly open for suggestions.

Why you should NEVER throw away a good idea

When I first heard of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo), I thought it sounded like quite the novel idea: commit a full month to putting words to paper and by the end of it you have a first draft of a book. While my first year was quite the challenge, once I had completed it, I knew it was in the realm of possibilities. Even though writing 50,000 words in 30 days is a challenge, I was already starting to think of ideas on how to break up this daunting task into smaller, more manageable chunks. One of my ideas was to write about my experiences on Colorado’s 14,000+ ft. peaks (known locally as “the Fourteeners”). Since there are 58 named peaks above 14,000 feet, I would have to only write 863 words about each mountain to accomplish the NaNoWriMo challenge. As a result, I will be writing the first draft of the aforementioned “Fourteener” book this November.

Ideas are easy, what’s difficult is ideas that are big enough.

Because writing a novel in a month is no longer an impossibility for me, the challenge now comes in thinking up ideas that could adequately fill the required wordcount. In college, I wrote a number of short stories covering a variety of topics. Most of them were exploring little “what if” ideas, and only a few of them I felt were any good (most were just random rants in a fictional framework). Now that I knew how large an idea I would need to write a novel, I needed to think bigger than the short stories I had written before.

One of the ideas I had for a novel involved a character receiving letters from pen pals in all 50 states. If you do the math, I’d only have to write fifty 1,000-word letters to reach the NaNoWriMo goal. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to this idea other than perhaps having a few of the letters written by some of the main character’s multiple personalities. Consequently, I tucked the idea for 50 Pen Pals away and didn’t think much of it as more interesting and cohesive ideas came to the front of my writing schedule.

Sometimes an idea needs to remain dormant before it can become useful.

Fast forward to 2016. I’m on the cusp of writing my seventh book, and it’s been many years since I originally thought of the idea for 50 Pen Pals. It was at this point when I saw the trailer for M. Night Shyamalan’s Split (2017). This trailer gave me a spark for a much better idea. Part of me remembered the idea for 50 Pen Pals I wrote down in a Microsoft Word document ages ago. I didn’t think I’d ever get to write it, since it was such a loose idea, but upon receiving that ignition from the movie trailer, my mind was set ablaze with a multitude of ideas. Fortunately, I had a loose structure I could feed them into, and a few pages of notes later 50 Pen Pals morphed into The Fortnight.

Now, you might ask yourself if I could have come up with the ideas for The Fortnight without having the initial idea for 50 Pen Pals. Maybe. The point is, I always keep my ideas, no matter how small they may be.

What idea have you not used yet?

Have you ever considered getting rid of it?

What you should REALLY ask when meeting someone new

Has this ever happened to you?

You’ve just been introduced to someone you’ve never met before and, after almost instantaneously forgetting their name, you ask, “So, what do you do for a living?” This question, along with a few other antiquated ones like “Are you married?” or “Have any kids?” don’t really provide any insight into the life of the person you’ve just met. They only touch on the surface of their life, and sometimes that surface may be uncomfortable for them to answer. They may have just been fired from their job, are going on their 6th month of unemployment, are frustrated with being single, have just gotten divorced, or are having fertility issues with their spouse. As you can see, these questions will often receive lies for answers because they can probe a little too deep for a new acquaintance. I’d almost equate them with the three “no-no’s” of small talk: money, religion, and politics.

Even if everything is going great in their lives, it’s likely these questions won’t tell you anything unique about them. This is probably why that person you just met doesn’t really stand out in your mind and you’ll spend the next six times you meet them asking the same questions in order to give them an identity you can remember. But what if we move past these questions? I mean, what is the point of asking where someone works, or about their family life? Do we want to know these things so we can compare ourselves against this new acquaintance? Do we feel smug if we’re better off? Do we get depressed when we learn they’re doing better than we are? In the end, these questions don’t accomplish anything and often leave us with no meaningful information about this new person.

Who else thinks it’s time for a paradigm shift?

On a personal level, I don’t like being asked what I do for work because most of it is inherently classified. Of the information I do provide, it’s often annoying to always be answering the same, follow-up questions. No, I’m not a contractor. No, I’ve never served in the military before. No, I’m not part of the military now. The real kicker comes in the fact that I’d much rather talk about my passions instead of what I do for money during the week. On my personal business card, of the five descriptors I’ve given myself, four of them have nothing to do with my job. I could talk for hours about any one of them, but if you ask me about my job, it’s 15 seconds then a “even if I did tell you, I’d have to kill you” line. Inherently, even if I were able to explain what I do for a living, very few will remember it because it’s pretty banal.

That being said, if I were to be asked, “What are your passions?” I could go on to tell them about how I enjoy climbing Colorado’s 14,000 ft. peaks, how I’m an amateur photographer trying to become more professional, how I’ve published several novels with plans to publish many more, or how I have become a connoisseur of movies. Any one of those would be more memorable than hearing that I work in a cubicle at a desk all week answering e-mails and making phone calls. Everyone does that; it’s not unique.

My personal business card.
It’s time to focus on the “side hustle.”

Perhaps this is inherently due to the nature of millennials (of which I suppose I could classify myself). Most millennials have been hired into jobs they don’t particularly care for, are not in their area of interest, or are well beneath their earning potential. As a result (or perhaps in part), most millennials will have something else they do during their free time and on weekends. These “side hustles” don’t always earn them enough money (if any at all) to quit their day job, but it’s what they are truly passionate about. It’s these projects that give millennials their individuality. I would even argue that it’s not even a millennial construct. Our parents and grandparents have had hobbies and passions aside from their 9-to-5 jobs, but because their jobs were such a part of their identity, it’s what people would initially ask when they met for the first time.

I will admit that some people’s passions align with what they are paid to do for a living. These instances are admirable, but also equally rare. Considering how often I’d like to change the introductory question from my job to my passion, I’m still polite enough to provide a quick answer as I try to steer the conversation into something more personal and relevant. I’m sure most people would be shocked to be asked, “What is your passion?” the first time they meet someone, but perhaps if enough people start asking this question, the sudden shift in focus will help us all get to know each other better. In fact, if your passions align, you might have just found a new friend without having to wade through their job first.

This week, when you meet someone new, just try it out. Ask them what their passion is . . . you might be surprised what you learn!

1890: A San Francisco Steampunk Treat

Panorama of San Francisco in 1887

One of the genres I have not had a lot of experience writing is that of steampunk. However, when I was given a lead to a short story anthology with the theme of “steampunk heroes”, an idea immediately came to mind. Of course, with this genre being new to my repertoire, I had quite a bit of research to do in order to meet the theme and genre requirements. For those who are unaware, the steampunk genre has many interpretations, but in general it focuses on advanced technologies brought about by the industrial revolution in the Victorian era. What this boils down to is a lot of gears, brass, corsets, top hats, steam, and the color brown infused into the story’s setting and accouterments.

Many consider steampunk to be a sub-set of historical fiction because of its known timeframe (the aforementioned Victorian era). Consequently, historical accuracy can help to make the story believable, even if it has certain technological advances well past its original, historical context. When I started digging into the research for my story, I was surprised to find how easy it was to incorporate this historical accuracy into my writing. It was through this research that I came to a conclusion about the perfect location and perfect year to set my story: San Francisco in 1890. In fact, I would almost wager that this is an incredibly ideal setting for steampunk stories, and one that I may very well explore in future writing projects.

You may be asking yourself, “What makes 1890 San Francisco so perfect?” Well, a number of factors led me to this assessment. Foremost of all, much of what we associate with San Francisco (and California in general) already existed in 1890. These trappings help to give the modern reader something to relate to, even if they were fairly new back in 1890. In this way, historical accuracy can be (mostly) maintained while making it easier for the reader to imagine the setting. The following are a set of technologies and facts which help to prove my point (in italics and parentheses):

“By 1890, San Francisco’s population approached 300,000, making it the eighth-largest city in the U.S. at the time.” [Wikipedia] (Because San Francisco was so large, along with its prominence on the burgeoning western frontier of the United States, there are many amenities it would have to offer, not to mention its modern close proximity to much of the technological developments happening today)
Golden Gate Park existed, but not the bridge. (While this iconic landmark may be missing from the skyline, and would not be built/finished until almost 50 years later, the Park still has much to offer)
23 cable car lines were established between 1873 and 1890. (Another iconic landmark of San Francisco, cable cars were likely a primary source of public transportation at the time)
Alcatraz was set as a long-term detention facility for military prisoners in 1868. (Even though this was prior to its famous prisoners in the early 20th Century, it still was used to hold prisoners from the various wars America was involved in at the time)
“Mark Hopkins, one of the founders of the Central Pacific Railroad, chose the southeastern peak of Nob Hill as the site for a dream home for his wife, Mary. The mansion was completed in 1878, after his death.” [Wikipedia] (Now known as the InterContinental Mark Hopkins Hotel, this historic building was used in 1887 to create a panorama of the city (as seen above), thus making it ideal for a potential zeppelin mooring location for a steampunk story)
Telephone patented in 1876 by Alexander Graham Bell. (Despite not being the wireless telephone we’ve all become accustomed to, the fact that telephone technology existed by this time helps accommodate any “fast” communication needed by the story)
Edison’s Incandescent light bulb patent was filed in 1878. (Another common technology that we might take for granted today, the light bulb was readily available by 1890)
Southern Pacific railway becomes trans-continental by 1883. (This one is huge; the fact that a railroad extends from one side of the country to the other, let alone that one of the stations is in San Francisco, lends itself to many items being available)
Chinatown started in the 1850’s and grew from then into the 1900’s (On the international stage, the fact that San Francisco was a main port / point of entry for much of the Oriental world helps provide a source for global characters, as well as the potential for “magic”)
“In 1879 Captain Gustave Niebaum established Inglenook Winery in Rutherford, California a small village (in Napa County, California). It was the first Bordeaux style winery in the USA. Captain Niebaum’s wines became world-renowned. His Inglenook wines won gold medals at the World’s Fair of Paris in 1889.” [Wikipedia] (California wines were now recognized around the world, not to mention that the legal minimum drinking age was 16 in 1890, to be raised to 18 the next year)
“By the 1890s, much like across the United States, San Francisco was suffering from machine politics and corruption, and was ripe for political reform.” [Wikipedia] (Look no further for villains than those corrupt politicians who want to run the city)
The San Francisco Fire of 1851, which destroyed ¼ of San Francisco, had happened, but the 1906 earthquake, which started the most famous fire, had not. (Clearly, fire was a problem back then, but with our knowledge of history we can put in a few pieces of foreshadowing for the 1906 quake as well to help cement the timeframe in people’s minds)

Again, these are my thoughts on why San Francisco in 1890 is an ideal steampunk setting. Do you have anything to add to this list? Conversely, if you have a better setting for a steampunk story, reply with a comment expressing your reasoning. I’m still new to the genre, so I’m open to a lively discussion on the topic.

Which Hunter

Being concise is one of the standards of superior writing. Unfortunately, when you’re writing the first draft of your novel in a month, your mind might insert a lot of “filler” words. I’ve had this problem for years, but recently have come across a simple solution to help my manuscripts “cut the fluff” during the editing phase.

For some background, one of my beta readers for The Third Degree noticed the word “that” popping up more often than it should. My solution at the time was to replace most of the “that” with “which”. I had always heard the advice “don’t use that“, so instead of eliminating the word from my writing, I merely shifted it to a different word. Now that I’ve received notes back on The Constellation Tournament it appears I’ve been found out. A completely different beta reader was distracted by the enormous amount of times I used “which”.

Recognizing the problem, I set about trying to find a solution. Fortunately, this was a pretty easy fix. I’m sure there are other repeated words in my manuscripts that I need to sic the thesaurus on, but these two words usually don’t add much, if anything at all, to the manuscript. In fact, often the context of the sentence remains unchanged when these words are eliminated. Consequently, this was how I created a new editing game: Which Hunter

Here’s how to play:

1. Open up your manuscript in the editing software of your choice (mine is Microsoft Word).

2. Do a “find all” search for the words that and which.

3. Highlight these words so you can see where they pop up in your manuscript.

4. Go through and methodically remove or modify the surrounding words to eliminate the use of these two fillers.

It’s that simple! Here’s an example I’ve run on The Constellation Tournament:

If you’re like me, you’ll find the pages filled with a sickening amount of yellow marks. Most of the time, these marks can be simply removed with the word they’re highlighting. However, I did find these words used as verb modifiers for a large percentage of the highlighted instances. Luckily, this is also an easy fix. For example’s sake, let’s say I have the phrase:

“This expression was replaced by a twinkle that emerged in her bright eyes.”

Just removing the offending word doesn’t work, so I have to modify the verb connected to it. Now the phrase reads:

“This expression was replaced by a twinkle emerging in her bright eyes.”

I admit it’s still a little clunky and needs more polishing, but it’s a start. These instances usually ascribe to the format: noun -> “that” or “which” -> past tense verb. The fix is usually to make the past tense verb into a gerund (an “-ing” verb instead of an “-ed” verb) and go from there.

It might take a lot of work to play Which Hunter, but it’s still a simple tool to make your writing more concise.

What “games” do you play to help edit your writing?

Hometown Prophets

A few weeks ago, I was perusing some forums and came across a thread that essentially boiled down to this: “I’m pouring all of my energy into my art and my family and friends don’t care and don’t want to support me.” To be honest, this struck a bit of a chord with me as well. When you pick up a book in a store, do you know how long it took the author to write? Do you know how many revisions were needed to polish it into a publishable work? Do you know how much work it takes to get the word out? Granted, if it was sold in a store, there was probably a publisher helping the author to get to that point, but this just highlights the issue that independent and self-published artists face. Mainly, how do we build a base of people who would want to read what we’ve written?

Of course, the first thought is that our family and friends will support us in our creative endeavors. They’ll buy our books, they’ll talk about our photography, they’ll attend our concerts. And yet, as I expand my network of artists and writers, I am frequently finding that this isn’t the case. The most many of us would get is a “that’s nice” as our work gets put on the refrigerator with a magnet. To an artist, that’s equivalent to patting a newborn on the head, telling the parents, “That’s a kid all right,” and leaving it at that. After all, some creative endeavors can take months or even years to complete, and the fact that it’s passed off as something unimportant definitely doesn’t help an artist’s confidence.

It’s usually at this point where an artist starts pushing their work on their family and friends. While I sometimes feel this is in poor taste, it’s a desperate cry from someone just wanting validation and acceptance. This merely exacerbates the issue, since those close to you are now obliging you out of guilt instead of an actual interest in the creative products that you’re producing. Granted, there’s a chance that whatever you’re making isn’t that great, and perhaps your creative tastes are not the same as those around you, but the independent artist needs that word of mouth in order to succeed. I understand that most people will have their own thing and don’t have the time, energy, or commitment to peddle the creative products of their family and friends, especially when it requires an amount of time to sit down and read what they’ve written. That being said, sometimes a “share” on Facebook is worth a lot to an artist that you know on a personal level.

So, why are we finding this phenomenon to be a semi-common occurrence? I’ve found that the best example lies in the ministry of Jesus Christ. He was an independent “creator” whose success was attributed to the word of mouth that came from the stories He told and the miracles He performed. However, let’s read what it says about a visit He made to Nazareth:

[Jesus] came to His hometown and began teaching them in their synagogue, so that they were astonished, and said, “Where did this man get this wisdom and these miraculous powers? Is not this the carpenter’s son? Is not His mother called Mary, and His brothers, James and Joseph and Simon and Judas? And His sisters, are they not all with us? Where then did this man get all these things?” And they took offense at Him. But Jesus said to them, “A prophet is not without honor except in his hometown and in his own household.” And He did not do many miracles there because of their unbelief.

– Matthew 13:54-58 (The Holy Bible: New American Standard Version NASB )

Apparently, nobody in His hometown were open to His ministry because they thought they already “knew” Him. They were too close to His past to accept His talents and abilities. A similar thing happened to Him with his family as well:

Then His mother and His brothers arrived, and standing outside they sent word to Him and called Him. A crowd was sitting around Him, and they said to Him, “Behold, Your mother and Your brothers are outside looking for You.” Answering them, He said, “Who are My mother and My brothers?” Looking about at those who were sitting around him, he said, “Behold My mother and My brothers! For whoever does the will of God, he is My brother and sister and mother.”

– Mark 3:31-35 (The Holy Bible: New American Standard Version NASB )

His family wanted Him to come home and stop talking to these crowds of people. It was at this point when He essentially said, “Those who follow me are my family.” Harper Lee can add to this with what she wrote in To Kill a Mockingbird, “You can choose your friends but you sho’ can’t choose your family, an’ they’re still kin to you no matter whether you acknowledge ’em or not, and it makes you look right silly when you don’t.” Yes, we should recognize our roots and not ignore our family, but sometimes the best support we can get comes from strangers. These people don’t know us and our past. All they know is that you’ve created something that they like and they’ll support you for it. How do you think authors can get on best-seller lists with millions of copies sold? They certainly don’t have a family that large, that’s for sure.

What does this mean for authors who aren’t getting the support they need from home? Unfortunately, it comes down to building up enough confidence in yourself to start approaching strangers with your work. I’m not saying that strangers will accept you; in fact, the vast majority will reject you. But maybe there’s a chance that someone will listen. Someone will like what you have to offer and tell their friends. Clearly, I’m not an expert on gaining an audience, but I’m trying. I know it’s hard and most days you’ll ask yourself “what’s the point?”

At this point all I can say is, “Don’t lose heart, your fans are out there . . . somewhere.”

PS – For those of you who know someone who is creating on a regular basis, whether it’s their primary job or a serious hobby, perhaps set aside a little time and/or money to help them out. Share their posts on social media, write a review on Amazon, talk about their works with your friends. If you share a personal relationship with an artist, these things really boost their confidence, as well as their exposure to strangers. The more you do this, the less they’ll rely on you for support as their fan-base grows. If we all make an effort to be less apathetic and more empathetic, everyone wins. In fact, if you’re an artist who knows another artist, offer to help them! Not only does this give you some “artistic karma”, but it might just be reciprocated in kind.