Russell Zimmerman's Blog: Furious Button Mashing, page 2

Seven: Snacks and Sleep

Flailing around for a topic the other day, I asked some Facebook buddies what might make for an interesting blog post. One suggested discussing the importance of coffee, the importance of sleep, or the importance of both.

I don't sleep like I should. For unrelated reasons, I don't sleep like anybody should. I try to, but it doesn't work out. But! That's not the fun part. The fun part is the writey-bits. When it's brainstorming time? When I've got a new story bouncing around upstairs, a new character idea, a new action scene carving itself out? When an offhanded comment really gets the wheels turning and suddenly I've got a whole conversation brewing? Then I really don't sleep. I put in a good-faith effort, but I just have to give up and come to the computer.

My wife's used to it. She indulges me. She knows the signs, when she wakes up and I'm not there any more, when she hears keys in the middle of the night, when I'm sitting hunched over the keyboard ignoring everything and just ratta-tat-tatting away.

There's no point in fighting it, I've learned over the years. When I'm excited about a project spec and a story wants out, the story wants out, and mulling it over won't do any good; better to just hit the keyboard and write it up, then go back to sleep. Most of my anthology pieces and intro fics happen this way, in one sitting. I mull over an idea for an evening, maybe an extra day, and then the next time I try to sleep -- in that idle time, "power saver mode," eyes closed, no distractions, just me and my wife and a couple dogs splayed around the room -- sleep doesn't happen. Instead, stories do.

So I don't try to fight it, I don't try to remember stuff the next day, I don't try to make myself sleep.

I get up, and I write.

Now, as for the other part? I have a confession to make -- it's blasphemous of me, I know, but I'm just not a coffee drinker -- but I will talk about what I eat when I write. Not when I blog. Not when I socialize on forums. Not when I brainstorm, or pitch, or scribble notes, or edit. Not when I'm just laying down some idle thoughts.

No, when I write.

When it's too big to handle in one sitting, sneaking in some short fiction while my wife gets a nap. When I've got two weeks to the deadline and it's time to open up a fresh Word doc and start typing up this novel. When I'm down to the nitty-gritty, when all of "my process" is done, and all that's left is busting out the words-per-minute, and it's down to the title of this blog; furious button mashing.

When I get into crunch time like that, when everything else is done and all that remains is the typing, I don't eat very well. I tend to wake up, sit down at the computer, and just go to town. My wife makes me stop for dinner (and normally a tv show from the DVR, socializing a little like a normal person), and then I...uhh...just go back to the computer, y'know?

That's it. I eat one good meal a day, and I snack. Every few hours I get up, stretch my legs, take the dogs outside for a tiny little bit of sunshine, and then I snack. Forage. Prowl. I'll eat damned near anything I come across while I stumble around the kitchen getting a little blood back into my extremities. I'm not proud. I've eaten a few scoops of peanut butter with a spoon before, sure. Egg-o waffles with my bare hands, like an animal. Milk right out of the carton, because I'm a monster. Whatever's handy, I'll wolf it down, then stagger back to my chair and go back to work.

But my favorite? My go-to? The one my lovely wife stocks up on, when she knows they're needed? Reduced Fat Oreos and a glass of milk.

They're the secret to my success (inasmuch as I'm a success, and inasmuch as success has a secret). And it's not even for the taste of them, or the sugar rush, or the caloric intake. It's for the ritual.

When I'm in the zone and hammering away at my 150 wpm, I hate idle hands. Can't stand 'em. Can't deal with 'em. My hands have to keep moving. I have to be doing something. I have to feel active, even if it's just the little wiggly digits at the end of my arms. So I'm either pounding this keyboard and letting words out, or I'm going crazy.

When I need to stop -- and everyone needs to stop, sometimes -- and read back over something, check back over a paragraph, scan a page, reread a scene, make sure a conversation is clear, make sure dialogue works, double check who's saying "fuck" and who's saying "frag" in a Shadowrun book...when I need to stop and read?

I eat a cookie.

Slowly. A step at a time. It's a process. I twist that mofo's head off, I gnaw off the filling, I smush the bastard back together, I dip it, soak it, dip it, soak it, and then (just before it falls apart with just a tiny bit of crunchy cookie between my fingers) I scarf that thing down. Mix of cookie and milk, tasty and delicious and om nom nom.

But it's the ritual that matters. It's the window of time it creates, when my hands aren't idle and I'm skimming a page. It sets a timer for me. I can't be too slow about it or it falls apart and I get Oreo mush in my glass of milk (which is hardly the end of the world, but shut up, I have a point, here). I can't take my time. I can't sit still for too long.

I take long enough, and then I eat my cookie, and then I get back to typing. Blazing ahead. Forging the new path. I can stop and get another cookie in a paragraph, in a page, in a conversation, in a chapter. What matters for now is writing. Typing. Letting the words out, laying down ink, keeping that cursor moving instead of just blinking at me expectantly.

And when the time comes, another mini-break. Another twisting, munching, dipping ritual. Another little sliver of relaxation carved out, while my eyes and brain are working, while my fingers are itching to get back down to business. Giving my hands something to do, giving myself a little treat, and keeping fuel in the engine so I can get back to typing when the cookie's done.

That's my thing. Not coffee. Not Mt. Dew (those days are well behind me). Not booze (though I've been known to take a drink or two, when working on Jimmy Kincaid stories). Not cigarettes. Not anything harder than that.

Reduced Fat Oreos and a glass of milk. They're my mojo.

Six: On Mediums

The last few days, I've had a couple of really cool conversations about some potential/future products. I TRY not to get too excited about anything until we actually start working and it gets more real, closer to publication, etc, but both of these are just so neat they got me feeling jazzed.

Both of them, also, aren't straight-up prose for publication.

I've tried to branch out as much as I can, as a writer. I've tried to do new stuff, I've tried to learn new things, I've tried to stretch my legs and dabble in different aspects of the hobby/industry, from time to time. I put together Strays because I wanted to learn how to put a book together and run a Kickstarter (I tried my hand at art direction, at layout and proofing, oversaw the printing process, did all the shipping myself), but I've also tried to just write different stuff.

I got started with a couple of magazine articles, back in the day. Then I did short fiction and paragraph-super-short fiction as unit descriptions, for a wargame. Then I did intro/short fiction, then I did a chapter in a sourcebook (which, in Shadowrun's case, is actually kind of still fiction, since it's presented in-universe). Then I did a whole little e-book by myself, intro fiction, rules, and body of text.

Then I repeated most of those a few times. But then? Then things got weird on me.

I got my novella, which was a different experience than shorter fiction. In a way I guess you can think of it as just a short fiction (scene) on top of another short fiction (scene) on top of another scene, and another...but there's still a difference between a solid half-hour of television, and a collection of SNL sketches, right? Same thing, here.

Then came my first branching out to a new medium, even if it was still my dystopian cyberpunk genre; Satellite Reign. I was lead writer on the actual PC game, I didn't just write the tie-in novella (though I also did that), and it was waaaaaaaaaaaay different. You're not trying to tell a story, when you write in a video game. You're trying to carve out the space where the player tells a story, even moreso than when you're writing an RPG book. You're giving little interactive snippets of information, just little radio broadcast type of things, small boxes of text here and there, that folks are reading mid-gameplay. It's tricky. It's different. It was awesome.

The last few days, I've talked to folks about some similar stuff. Different mediums than I'm used to, even though it's in familiar genres. I'm excited about it. I'm excited to try and adjust how I work, and what I work on. I'm psyched. I think they'll both be really cool projects, and I'm looking forward to them.

I'll let y'all know when stuff gets closer, of course!

Five: Ah, ah, ah, FIVE Blog Posts!

So, earlier today (err, "mid-afternoon yesterday," by this point, I guess?) I tossed in my latest manuscript. It was a short piece for an anthology (5,000 words, almost right on the button!). I'll give more details when I'm in the clear to give more details, but for right now, what counts is that it's done, and it's time to switch gears again. The genre for this one is...pretty far away from the genre(s) I normally work in, so that was fun. I got to stretch my historian legs a wee little bit.

I talked about switching gears already, but it's true. It's hard to throw yourself headfirst into a setting, into a character, into a mood, just willy-nilly. I don't get all artsy-fartsy about it, I'm not a method actor or anything, heck, I don't even really think of myself as an "artist," for what it's worth. But it does require a certain type of creativity, what I do, stringing words together in such a fashion they drag someone into an imaginary place to watch some made-up action. And that's tough, sometimes. Going from genre to genre, voice to voice, can be jarring.

Right now, though? Right now I'm in the worst place. Limbo. I've got no gear to switch to.

I've got lots of stuff turned in, and I'm waiting to hear back from editors. THAT'S the most jarring thing, to me, shifting from high gear (I wrote 5,000 words in two nights, which is kind of what I've come to expect from myself) to neutral. I don't have another gig lined up! No contracts looming, no hard deadlines from an editor waiting around the corner.

I'm waiting to hear back from one (new) game company, after pitching to an open submission. I got shot down by them once before -- gasp, the horror! -- but I feel pretty positive about it, over all. I'm not crazy about their submission process (I only get 500 words to try and sell you on my 10,000 word story?! That's like getting graded on just 5% of a test!), but the editor I've been speaking with has been nice, and it's a game universe I know pretty well.

Another limbo-project is with an existing editor I know and like (and who I like to think enjoys working with me), but who's swamped right now, and the hypothetical project is kind of back-burner. So waiting to hear from them on the formal pitch.

Other than that, it's all stuff I've turned in -- first drafts -- waiting on editors. Waiting to hear back what they thought, waiting to see what changes need to be made, what changes they think should be made that maybe I can knife-fight over, and what things they like just fine. I luck out, most of the time, and it's far more "just fine" than anything else, and then a few "maybes" that, if I make a good case for it, get to stay. I don't get a lot of hard, red ink, changes made to my stuff. When I do, it tends to be just typos, basic stuff; I type like a mamajama, I spent enough years doing data entry work before spending enough years in academia before spending enough years as a writer, that I skate by with pretty few typos, but sometimes they still sneak in.

So mostly, my editing, return-the-draft, sort of process? It's pretty quick and painless, which is nice.

But, man. The waiting for it still stinks sometimes.

The good news? The good news is I've got my Patreon to keep me busy. Time to go see what flavor of short fiction my patrons want for this upcoming month, and that'll give me something to do, short-term. In the long term, I've always got Over The Stars to peck away at.

But, man, I just really like having a deadline, sometimes. A concrete end-zone, to make it feel like I'm not just moving the ball downfield forever, does me a lot of good.

Four: I can't think of something clever.

One of the weirdest parts about freelance writing isn't the writing -- though that can get pretty weird -- it's the shift. The in-between. The frantic re-wiring of your brain to move your imagination, your tone, your thought process from one genre to another.

It's very different writing about a flashy, Akira-esque, motorcycle gang (complete with elves and magic, not just chipped reflexes and flashing neon, because Shadowrun is Shadowrun), and writing about...uhh...well, really, writing anything else at all. Generic science fiction with a military flair? Way different pacing, way different dialogue, way different vibe (though cocky fighter pilots could get pretty close, I suppose). Medieval wizards? They're all candlelight holding off the gloom, not flash and chrome. Steampunk? Again, there's some machinery, but a very different attitude, a very different flair. High fantasy? Not many motorcycles there, not the same focus on glare and glitz, on spikes and swagger.

Everything's different. The RPG game you're playing is on a different wavelength than the anthology piece you're writing, which is on a different wavelength than the pitch you're working on to try and get your next assignment, which is on a different wavelength than the tabletop wargame you're just getting into, which is on a different wavelength than any of the two or three tv shows you're shotgunning with your wife, gobbling up episode after episode, that makes you want to be writing something else.

And, of course, it's an entirely different tone to maintain a blog, to post on Facebook, to hammer something down to a Tweet, or to try and make a Patreon page.

It's not tough for me to get my creative wheels spinning, it's tough to point them all in the same direction.

Third Post's The Charm?

Freelancing is weird. Trying to get your own stuff published, outside of the framework of established game companies, is even weirder.

A few years ago, I ran a Kickstarter. I wanted to learn it. I wanted to see how that jittery month felt (spoiler: jittery), I wanted to learn the rest of the publication process -- not just writing, but editing, proofing, layout (omg layout), coordinating with artists, handling contracts and checks, finding a printer, shipping, all of it -- and I wanted to see if that changed my attitude any, if it helped me learn patience with editors and layout-ers and art directors and printers. It did. I appreciate what those professionals do a zillion times more, after all that.

But I still hate it. I still hate that disconnect, I still hate the lag I get, the sometimes-year-or-more lag between when I write something and when a fan first gets to read that something.

So here's me, trying it again. Trying to cut out the middle-man, in a way, to share rougher fiction, raggedy fiction, but honest fiction. Directly to the fans. And, in fact, with heavy fan involvement!

If you like my writing, please check out my new Patreon . I'm a dork with a messy house that currently smells like wet dog, but I promise I'll keep writing my heart out for you, month after month, and give you some kick-ass little vignettes to enjoy.

Post The Second

I got into this -- 'this' being 'writing,' I mean, not the nigh-secessionist state of Texas, or whatever -- by writing fanfic. I totally, totally, did.

I adored Warmachine, back in the day. Trenchers, in particular, struck a chord with my military-historian self, and I started just writing up some fiction to explain why my army was my army. I renamed characters, mostly, matched up my custom paint scheme, made up new backstories for the existing special characters in my army; making my army mine.

And y'know what? It got me my first professional gig.

I ran into Privateer Press gurus Doug Seacat (their head writer at the time) and Nathan Letsinger (their magazine's head editor), at GenCon. They were running d20 Iron Kingdoms RPG games, and we were chatting a little when they noticed I was Critias -- yes, that Critias, OMG -- from their forums. The one who wrote the fiction.

The one whose fiction they read.

WTF?

So then we got to talking a little more, and next thing I knew I was working with some really cool people, looking over contracts and style guides and talking about deadlines, and I ended up writing two articles for No Quarter magazine, years and years ago, in some of their mid-teen issues (that is, issues numbered in the mid-teens, not issues aimed at a Young Adult audience or whatever).

And that fanfic I wrote? Compiled, taken from short pieces and added all up in one doc? It's almost exactly 60,000 words long.

I just wrote that for fun. I'd get a scene idea, I'd open up a forum post window, and I'd just let my story out. No editing (and it showed), no style guide (ditto), just me and a little story, and then I'd click "post" and let the whole world read it (by some values of 'the whole world').

I miss that. That instant gratification of throwing a story together, tossing it out there, and letting people read it.

Keep checking up here soon. I think I'm gonna have to make a Patreon announcement before too long.

Uno: That's Spanish For One

Welcome to the party, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. This is my first stab at something approximating a fairly professional blog -- I'm failing miserably already, I'm sure -- so bear with me.

For those who may have somehow stumbled across this without knowing (and I honestly have no idea how you'd manage that), my name is Russell Zimmerman -- 'Rusty' when I'm not working or in trouble with my mom -- and I write stuff. Mostly game stuff. I cut my teeth on Warmachine for Privateer Press, I was lead writer on the indie horror-skirmish game Spinespur, I was lead writer on the Kickstarter international mega-smash hit PC game Satellite Reign, and, most of all, I write a ton of stories about elves with robot-arms and stuff, in the fantastically weird cyberpunk-fantasy mash-up, Shadowrun. In my copious unstructured free time, I also ran my very own Kickstarter for a fun little kid-friendly RPG book, Strays, and I've picked up plenty of side gigs over the years (like contributing some fiction to Psionics: The Next Stage in Human Evolution, another Kickstarted RPG).

Lately I've started writing more fiction than game stuff, though; even though it's been "franchise fiction" written in RPG-game worlds, tie-in stuff like the Shadowrun Returns Anthology, my novel Shaken: No Job Too Small, or its prequel piece, Neat.

Which brings me to my next big project; doin' my own thing! Telling my own stories, in my very own world. Or rather, worlds, because sci-fi epics take more than one planet.

I'm currently crowdfunding to kick off my novel series, Over The Stars. There's plenty of preview fiction over there for you to take a peek at (so I'll save the pitch), but if you like my existing work, maybe give it a look, share it with your buddies, and have fun.

In the meantime, I'm off to work on another freelancer gig (work work work, but I'll have a new game company notch in my gunbelt shortly), and I'll bebop back into this blog page when I can think of something else to talk about.

It'll prob'ly be my dogs or a TV show or video game or something. I'm a dork. Again, I have no idea how you'd get here without knowing that, but now you can't say I didn't warn you.

In the meantime, feel free to ask me questions, share comments, or what-have-you!