Travis Thrasher's Blog, page 44

Question

Is it about the journey or the destination?

My Bad Habits #1: Melancholy & The Infinite Sadness

Part of the evolution of a writer, I feel, is to be able to critique yourself in an honest and real way. This doesn't happen over night. It takes a lot of writing along with a lot of editors and publishing people commenting/reviewing/criticizing that writing. It takes a lot of reviews by critics and bloggers and readers. It takes failed attempts and rewrites and more rewrites. It takes a lot of time, a lot of honest self-evaluation, and a lot of work.

Still, some of your writing can truly be like that awfully cheesy 80's love song by Chicago: a hard habit to break.
I'm going to start a new series detailing some of my bad habits. Does it mean I'm going to suddenly change my writing and never do them again? NOPE. I can merely wish. But I'm finally beginning to recognize these bad habits and understand some of the reasons WHY I do them. That to me is the key part of all of this—why? Why after I get critiqued time and time again do I go back to those same practices and patterns?
The first bad habit to profile is this: the ANGST in my writing.

There is a part of my stories that has a melancholy edge about it. My favorite stories just ooze sorrow and desolation. I loved The Watermark. I loved Sky Blue even more. And 40 even more. Yet those poor sad saps. Oh the agony and suffering of those narrators!
As I was working on a recent rewrite that involved changing the overall tone to be a little lighter, I wondered why I tend to go all Gloomy Gus with my stories. People meet me and tell me that I make them laugh. I think of myself as being humorous (at times). Light-hearted (at times). Fun-loving (at times). So then why do some of those traits have a hard time translating to my lead characters while some other traits of mine seem to drown and smother them?

I figured this out recently. It goes back to why I started writing in the first place.

When I was growing up, moving every year or two, changing schools and friends and identities, the one place I could go to find solace would be the blank page. I wrote lots of songs & poems (they weren't really either but rather just lamentations on being an insecure teen). These were my poorly-written Psalms of love and pain. Mostly just pain. Lots of pain from guy-girl relationships. But the core revealed a guy trying to exorcise his confusion about all this awful change. I'd write because I was afraid. Or lonely. Or confused. Or frustrated. Or just plain bored.

Then again, that's the reason any teen might write.

I wrote so much and so often, this melancholy backbone became an inherent part of my writing. Yes, at the core, that is me. But I'm not always as gloomy as a Cure song. There's a lot more to me. It's just—that's the habit that formed at an early age.

I feel that 40 is an end to one phase of my writing. Maybe I'll share more about that down the road if it's truly the case. But what I do know is that the more personal a story or a character is to me, the more the melancholy will slip in. No, that doesn't mean from here on out I'll be writing about female missionaries. I'll always put myself in the stories, for better or worse. But I can see the potential pitfalls that some stories and characters might have.

The challenge for me is to weave the melancholy in with that humor. To not completely neglect the sadness but rather inject it with brightness and hope. To try and be real about all of these emotions, not going overboard with either side.

Maybe one day I'll write a full-on comedy. Maybe. That would be quite an accomplishment. But I'll take it slow. Maybe by figuring out how to make a character truly hilarious. Or by weaving a comical sub-plot into a story in a natural way.

Like I said, change doesn't happen overnight. At least I'm getting to a point of figuring out the Why. Hopefully the How will come eventually.

Top 100: #55

"Living A Boy's Adventure Tale" by a-Ha
I've fixed my dwelling for the night
Lights in pairs come passing by
where I hide
I need some time now on my own
Leave my loneliness alone
To lick my wounds
Night has found me just in time
to help me close my eyes
one more time

Living a boy's adventure tale
In so many ways
Living a boy's adventure tale
For so many days
I'm living a boy's adventure tale
Can't escape, if I wanted to
Living a boy's adventure tale
I may be dreaming but I feel awake

I've been lost in so many places
Seen the love in so many faces
A change of weather,
the rain pours down
My head in hands,
pressed to the ground
And where am I supposed to go now

Living a boy's adventure tale
In so many ways
Living a boy's adventure tale (aah)
Living a boy's adventure tale
a voice I hear
Living a boy's adventure tale
Singing a lullaby for me
Living a boy's adventure tale
Because of you
Living a boy's adventure
Oh you know it's true
Living a boy's adventure tale
In so many ways (aah)
For so many days
I love you. I love you
So many ways

Top 100: #54

"The Day I Tried To Live" by Soundgarden
I woke the same as any other day
Except a voice was in my head
It said seize the day, pull the trigger, drop the blade
And watch the rolling heads

The day I tried to live
I stole a thousand beggar's change
And gave it to the rich
The day I tried to win
I dangled from the power lines
And let the martyrs stretch
Singing

One more time around
Might do it
One more time around
Might make it
One more time around
Might do it
One more time around
The day I tried to live

Words you say never seem
To live up to the ones
Inside your head
The lives we make
Never seem to ever get us anywhere
But dead

The day I tried to live
I wallowed in the blood and mud with
All the other pigs

I woke the same as any other day you know
I should have stayed in bed

The day I tried to live
I wallowed in the blood and mud with
All the other pigs

And I learned that I was a liar
Just like you

Keep On Knocking (Writing Tip #64)

I think many writers--many very talented writers--give up too quickly. There are too many reasons to stop. Books take time. Getting published takes hard work and luck and more time. There are so many books published nowadays and success is rare. Why bother? Who cares besides my mother?
I think--no, actually I know--that I'm just a bit too hard headed to give up. I used to like to call it optimism, but that's a pretty way to put it. I'm not an optimist. I'm a stubborn jackass. But this is good in this publishing world, because surviving requires persistence.
I think so many people stop knocking on doors that might potentially open.
It's like a door-to-door salesperson (are there such things anymore?) that gives up before the sun goes down.
I'm always asked about my "brand" and I say a few quips in response. But the truth is this: I kept knocking and eventually one door opened. It was surprising, to be honest. A sweet little Christian love story? Really? That was the first book I got published? In some ways, it made sense. I'm a romantic in some ways. I like love stories. But still.
Yet The Promise Remains was a door that opened.
There have been others, too. Unexpected doors that opened. Sometimes they were ones I barely knocked on. In more recent days, they were knocks I heard from a distance that urged me to cross the street and check them out.
I'm not sure if I'm bragging when I talk about my persistence at this writing thing. Maybe I am. But I'm not bragging about my wonderful storytelling ability or the way I move people with my prose. No. I'm still trying to perfect all that. I sweat it out and at the end of every day I sigh and feel lucky to have made it through another day. I'm fortunate but I'm so utterly and insanely far away from feeling lackadaisical about things. Maybe that's a good thing, because my mind is constantly on and I'm constantly trying to figure out another story idea and opportunity.
They're doors in my mind.
Sometimes I knock and keep knocking and they don't open.
Then again, sometimes they open and I'm invited in to another world I didn't know existed. I'm welcomed and I suddenly wonder how I actually got there.
It wasn't the first or the second or the twenty-second door. But there are a lot of doors in this world.
You just have to keep pounding away at them.

My Two 2011 Collaborations

In case you didn't already hear me mention it, I have two novels coming out this year based on popular songs by two very talented and gracious singers. The first book is called Letters From War by Mark Schultz. For more information on Mark, check out his website. This inspiring story about a woman praying for her son who is a soldier missing-in-action will be released September 6.
The second book is Paper Angels by Jimmy Wayne. For more information on Jimmy, check out his website. This sweet Christmas story about the Angel Tree program will be released November 1.
It's been a joy and an honor to work with these guys and get to know them. I hope all of you get a chance to check out these books!

Top 100: #53

(I started listening to Stevie Wonder with new appreciation as I worked on my novel, Every Breath You Take. He's really one of a kind, and this song is like watching the sun rise.)
"Heaven Is Ten Zillion Light Years Away" by Stevie Wonder
They say that heaven is 10 zillion light years away
And just the pure at heart will walk her righteous streets someday
They say that heaven is 10 zillion light years away
But if there is a God, we need Him now
"Where is your God"
That's what my friends ask me
And I say it's taken Him so long
'Cause we've got so far to come...

Tell me people
Why can't they say that hate is 10 zillion light years away
Why can't the light of good shine God's love in every soul
Why must my color black make me a lesser man
I thought this world was made for every man
He loves us all, that's what my God tells me
And I say it's taken Him so long
'Cause we've got so far to come...

But in my heart I can feel it, yeah,
Feel His spirit wow oh woo...
Feel it, yeah, feel His spirit...

I... can't say that heaven is 10 zillion light years away
But if so let all be pure at heart
Just to walk her righteous streets I pray
Let God's love shine within to save our evil souls
For those who don't believe will never see the light
"Where is my God" - He lives inside of me
And I say it's taken Him so long
'Cause we've got so far to come...
No people, "where is your God?"
Inside please let Him be
And I say it's taken Him so long
'Cause we've got so far to come...

But if you open your heart you can feel it yeah yeah
Feel His spirit, yeah
Feel it, feel His spirit, wow oh wow...
Feel it, you can feel His spirit
I opened my heart one morning and
I sho nuff could feel it yeah yeah
Feel His spirit yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
You can feel it, yeah, feel His spirit
You can feel it, yeah, feel His spirit

Right Place, Right Time (writing tip #63)

The publishing industry just like any business that sells art is a tricky endeavor. There's no sure-fire formula. There are trends and histories and success stories. But there's also a lot--and I mean A LOT--of head scratching and soul searching. Not by authors, but by publishers.
I know because I worked on that side of things for over 13 years. I know because I still have close friends that scratch their heads and search their souls on a daily basis.
The publishing waters that any author wades through are often difficult and murky. So many authors give up after lack of sales or lack of drive or simply getting stuck in that muck. For every huge name bestseller there are many, many more that tried and failed.
Publishing is a business, and just like many businesses, there are lots that don't make it.
As I continue to swim out to the deep waters of publishing, many times feeling like I'm swimming in the dark with no clear direction in sight, I tell myself something.
It's something I've witnessed personally, and something I've read about and heard discussed amongst publishers.
Success can't be boiled down to pure talent. It can't be pinned on sales and marketing. It can't be as simple as a great premise. It can't be as trite as saying "It's God's will".
No--this is what I remind myself:
The right idea written at the right time published by the right house can be that one right hit.
I tell myself this even though I just keep writing. I'll always write as long as I have a halfway coherent mind. Full-time, part-time--doesn't matter. I'll be writing.
Publishing and marketing and selling are all difficult ventures. Writing good stories is tough. Trying to get a book to make an impact when a billion are published each year--that's really tough.
Sometimes all of that can make a writer weary and worried.
For a while, however, I've had some measure of peace. If a door opens, that's awesome. If they shut, so be it. I've gotten enough positive input to feel that I deserve to be published. I've also seen enough realities to know that it's going to be hard for me to hit a home run anytime soon. Retailers aren't sure what to make of me, this guy who's written a bunch of stories in various genres. Nothing really stands out with my writing. Certainly not my sales, which are sometimes the only thing the machinery tends to take notice of.
But at the right place and the right time, something magical can happen. I believe that. I believe that every time I start to write. I really do. I never simply go through the motions. I try to carve out a chunk of my heart and soul and put it into the story. Sometimes it works decently. Sometimes it's just a messy failure.
But one day, maybe--just maybe--my time will come.
When the story is told in just a unique way and presented in just the right way that it really makes an impression.
If I didn't believe this couldn't happen, I might stop now. Or at least get a normal job that paid regularly and made some type of sense.
No, I still believe. Every day and night, I believe.
If you write, you need to believe this too. Doesn't matter if you're alone in your belief and the rest of the world thinks you're crazy. Sure, if no doors are opening and the writing is going nowhere, it might mean you won't be able to make a living from it. But you can still write.
I can still write, too, and that's what I'm going to keep doing.

Top 100: #52

"Running Up That Hill" by Kate Bush
It doesn't hurt me.
Do you want to feel how it feels?
Do you want to know that it doesn't hurt me?
Do you want to hear about the deal that I'm making?
You, it's you and me.

And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God,
And I'd get him to swap our places,
Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
Be running up that building.
If I only could, oh...

You don't want to hurt me,
But see how deep the bullet lies.
Unaware I'm tearing you asunder.
Ooh, there is thunder in our hearts.

Is there so much hate for the ones we love?
Tell me, we both matter, don't we?
You, it's you and me.
It's you and me won't be unhappy.

And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God,
And I'd get him to swap our places,
Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
Be running up that building,
Say, if I only could, oh...

You,
It's you and me,
It's you and me won't be unhappy.

"C'mon, baby, c'mon darling,
Let me steal this moment from you now.
C'mon, angel, c'mon, c'mon, darling,
Let's exchange the experience, oh..."

And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God,
And I'd get him to swap our places,
Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
With no problems.

And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God,
And I'd get him to swap our places,
Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
With no problems.

And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God,
And I'd get him to swap our places,
Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
With no problems.

If I only could
Be running up that hill
With no problems...

"If I only could, I'd be running up that hill.
If I only could, I'd be running up that hill."

Amazing Little Book

This book took Bono's keynote address at the 2006 National Prayer Breakfast and put it into a very moving and profound presentation. I loved this quote from it:
"A number of years ago, I met a wise man who changed my life. In countless ways, large and small, I was always seeking the Lord's blessing. I was saying, you know, I have a new song, look after it… I have a family, please look after them… I have this crazy idea…

And this wise man said: stop.

He said, stop asking God to bless what you're doing.

Get involved in what God is doing—because it's already blessed.

Well, God, as I said, is with the poor. That, I believe, is what God is doing.

And that is what He's calling us to do."