L.G. Estrella's Blog, page 67
February 9, 2014
Lessons in Writing I: Think Less and Do More
In this series of posts, I want to talk about some of the lessons I’ve learned as I’ve tried to improve my writing. Of course, improvement is an ongoing process. I’m fairly sure that I’m better than I was several years ago, but I know that I still have a very, very long way to go. Every writer’s journey is different – just like every person’s life is different – but I do hope that I can share some of the lessons I’ve picked up amidst all the twists and turns.
So what do I mean by think less and do more? It’s a little glib, I suppose, but it does catch the eye, which is, after all, the purpose of a title. What I do not mean is for you to write without thinking. Writing without thinking is not only almost impossible but also highly unlikely to produce good results. What I’m concerned about isn’t thinking so much as overthinking.
There are several ways that we can get ourselves into trouble through overthinking:
1. Focusing too much on studying the science of writing as opposed to practicing the craft of storytelling.
2. Becoming a slave to perfection.
3. Ruminating on past mistakes and potential problems.
Writing is often considered an art, but it is not devoid of science. Perhaps the most obvious manifestation of this is in the minutiae of punctuation and grammar. A certain modicum of skill in punctuation and grammar is necessary for any writer. A reader cannot enjoy a story if the punctuation and grammar are so poor that they cannot even understand what has been written.
However, the science of writing extends beyond the figurative crossing of t’s and dotting of i’s. An almost unfathomable amount of fiction has been written over the years. As with any field, a great deal of it has been quite poor. Yet some of it has been truly exceptional. These exceptional stories have been the subject of countless analyses, most of them geared toward identifying what made them so good. A resourceful writer will almost certainly attempt to take advantage of this research to improve the quality of their work.
There are writers who will spend years – even decades –studying the science of writing, and this is certainly a worthwhile endeavour. However, if you wish to be a writer, and not a literary scholar, then it is necessary to remember that your goal is to tell your story, not simply study how others told theirs. It is one thing to study how something is done. It is quite another to actually go out and do it.
Allow me now a moment to confess. In my younger days, I was quite obsessed with trying to attain a sort of technical perfection in my writing. I was particularly concerned with identifying what I believed to be the optimal styles and structures for telling different kinds of stories. I won’t say that I wasted my time – I first began to dabble in different styles and genres because of this – but I didn’t find what I was looking for.
There was no perfect style. There was no perfect story structure. There were rules – so many rules – yet all too often they were broken to wonderful effect. What I learned, in the end, was that the great writers I’d examined all wrote in a way that best served the stories they wanted to tell. Moreover, they’d learned by doing. They hadn’t attained their skill through simply studying the science of writing. They’d achieved it by taking what they’d learned from studying the science of writing and applying it by practicing the craft of storytelling.
Let’s try an analogy. Most of us are familiar with how to build a dinner table. On a conceptual level, it isn’t a very difficult task. But how many of us would be able to build a good one the first time we tried, even with a solid amount of studying under our belts? Not many, I think.
Telling a good story is a lot like building a good dinner table. You’d never try to write a story without some study of the science behind writing, just like you’d never try to build a table without thinking about it first and researching a few methods. But knowing how to write a story doesn’t guarantee that you’ll write a good story anymore that knowing how to build a table guarantees that you’ll make a good table. It helps, don’t get me wrong, but there are some skills that can only truly be learned and mastered by practicing – writing is one of them.
If you’re a fiction writer, then the goal of your writing is to tell a story. You can study the science of writing, the techniques of storytelling, but the craft of storytelling cannot be mastered by mere observation and study. There are rules and guidelines and tips and tricks, but every story is different. The only way to identify what advice applies to your story is to write that story. You’ll make mistakes – I know I do. But you’ll also learn what works for you and which techniques and structures from the science of writing can best serve the story you wish to tell.
So by all means, study the science of writing, but don’t forget that the craft of storytelling must be practiced if you want to master it.
It’s easy to become a slave to perfection. Every writer knows that once the final edits are in and the book is published, then that is what the reader sees. And no good writer wants to put out garbage. No, every good writer wants to tell the best possible story. There’s nothing wrong with seeking perfection in prose. The mistake comes from thinking that you will actually achieve it.
I’ve lost count of the number of times that I’ve stared at a sentence or paragraph and wanted to tear my hair out in frustration. It might be an awkward turn of phrase or perhaps a poorly chosen word, but there are times when something just screams out that the writing isn’t good enough yet. So I go back to the drawing board, I take the passage in question apart and try to improve it. Does it need a little more punch? Is it too wordy? Does it flow nicely off the tongue? I don’t want the passage to be good – I want it to be perfect.
But let’s be realistic here. No story is perfect. No sentence is perfect. No writer is perfect. If you can’t say that a story is finished until it is perfect, then you will never finish even a single story. At some point, you have to draw the line and say no more. Enough is enough. This isn’t to say that editing is bad. No, editing is a good thing. Going back through your work (either on your own or with the assistance of an editor) can help ensure that the grammar and punctuation are up to a good standard and that the story is well written and self-consistent.
The urge to go back and revise is natural. A good writer wants to show readers their best, each and every time. So how do you know when to let go of a story? How do you know when enough is enough? Unfortunately, there are no simple rules for this. Over time, you do develop a better feel for when a story is complete.
However, I can give you one guideline. If your urge to go back and revise is leading to writing paralysis, then you need to get it under control. In other words, if the quest for perfection has become so demanding that you start agonising over every single word or sentence to the extent that you can’t actually get anything written, then, yes, you probably need to take a step back.
If you’ve revised a single paragraph fifteen times and still can’t get it right, then take a step back. Either it’s actually fine, and you’re worrying over nothing, or you’ve hit a mental block. In either case, stepping back will help. What looks terrible when you’re tired, cranky, and sleepy can look much better when you’re in a more rational state of mind. Likewise, time away from a problem can often help you come up with the solution.
This leads me to the final way that overthinking can get in the way of good writing: ruminating on past mistakes and potential problems.
We all make mistakes. But writing is such a personal endeavour that it can genuinely hurt to have those mistakes pointed out. I doubt there’s a writer alive who hasn’t been on the receiving end of at least one incredibly rude, negative, and spiteful review. I’ve received a few such reviews in my time, and I can remember going through a range of emotions.
At first, there’s disbelief at the idea that someone could hate something I’d written so much. Of course, there’s also anger. Even if someone keeps their criticism directed solely at your writing and not at you, it can still feel like a personal attack. There can also be sadness and fear. The sadness often comes if it turns out that their criticism is correct. You can feel stupid. You’ll ask yourself over and over again: how could I make that mistake? How about the fear? The fear derives from the thought of making the same mistakes again, of receiving another similarly harsh review, of proving – through your continued failure – that they were right about you.
Now, obviously, not every writer will go through this range of emotions. Indeed, I haven’t felt like that for a long, long time. Part of it is developing a thicker skin and more confidence – a novice writer is much more likely to be crushed by this sort of attack than someone who has experienced it before and has years of writing experience under their belt. This is why, although I make a point of being civil, polite, and respectful in all my reviews, I am especially gentle toward writers that I know are just starting out. Learning to write well is hard enough without people trying to tear you down every step of the way.
However, we also need to realise something very simple: we do not get to decide how readers feel about what we’ve written. We may think we’ve written a wonderful story and many readers may agree. But some readers may not like the story. They may even hate it with every fibre of their being. But that’s okay. They are the reader – they are the one who gets to decide how they feel about a story. Understanding and accepting this fact will make your life a lot easier. Not everyone will like what you write, and that’s okay.
But perhaps the hardest-hitting reviews are those filled with sincere, honest critiques that correctly identify a litany of mistakes and ways that your writing could be improved. It hurts to know that you’re wrong or that you’ve made a mistake. But such reviews should be treasured not feared. How can we improve if we don’t know what we’re doing wrong? Treasure constructive criticism. It takes a great deal of effort for a reader to leave constructive criticism, so don’t be upset when you receive some. Be glad. The reader cared enough to take the time and effort to offer a useful critique. It might hurt for a little while to know you’ve made a lot of mistakes and that your writing is still far from perfect, but acknowledging those mistakes and improving those weaknesses will only make you better in the long run.
I’ve received reviews for stories I’ve written that provide pages of accurate, insightful criticism. Not all of those reviews are written in a friendly manner, but I’m still happy whenever I get a review like that because I know it will help me to improve. Criticism isn’t something to be afraid of – consider it a challenge and then rise to meet it.
How about another analogy? It’s often said that a good quarterback needs to have amnesia. Of course, nobody actually wants a quarterback to have amnesia – how could they memorise the playbook and run the offence? What the saying means it that a quarterback has to be able to overcome mistakes. They can’t afford to get bogged down in mistakes they’ve made in the past. They have to learn from those mistakes and then move on. Ruminating, or dwelling, on those mistakes will only ruin their performance.
A writer must be the same way. Acknowledge your mistakes – acknowledge the criticism – and learn from it. Then move on. Don’t let a negative review or past mistakes crush you. With writing, there will always be a next time. Do better next time. Getting a negative review or making a big mistake can feel like a loss, but there’s no better way to erase the feeling of a loss than snagging a win. Keep writing – the wins will come.
Writing well is a very challenging task from a mental perspective. It demands a great deal of thinking. But it needs to be the right kind of thinking. Nobody in the world is perfect, but it helps to practice. And don’t shy away from criticism. Instead, use it to improve.
If you’re interested in some of my other thoughts on writing, you can find those here.
If you’re interested in my original fiction, you can find that here.
So what do I mean by think less and do more? It’s a little glib, I suppose, but it does catch the eye, which is, after all, the purpose of a title. What I do not mean is for you to write without thinking. Writing without thinking is not only almost impossible but also highly unlikely to produce good results. What I’m concerned about isn’t thinking so much as overthinking.
There are several ways that we can get ourselves into trouble through overthinking:
1. Focusing too much on studying the science of writing as opposed to practicing the craft of storytelling.
2. Becoming a slave to perfection.
3. Ruminating on past mistakes and potential problems.
Writing is often considered an art, but it is not devoid of science. Perhaps the most obvious manifestation of this is in the minutiae of punctuation and grammar. A certain modicum of skill in punctuation and grammar is necessary for any writer. A reader cannot enjoy a story if the punctuation and grammar are so poor that they cannot even understand what has been written.
However, the science of writing extends beyond the figurative crossing of t’s and dotting of i’s. An almost unfathomable amount of fiction has been written over the years. As with any field, a great deal of it has been quite poor. Yet some of it has been truly exceptional. These exceptional stories have been the subject of countless analyses, most of them geared toward identifying what made them so good. A resourceful writer will almost certainly attempt to take advantage of this research to improve the quality of their work.
There are writers who will spend years – even decades –studying the science of writing, and this is certainly a worthwhile endeavour. However, if you wish to be a writer, and not a literary scholar, then it is necessary to remember that your goal is to tell your story, not simply study how others told theirs. It is one thing to study how something is done. It is quite another to actually go out and do it.
Allow me now a moment to confess. In my younger days, I was quite obsessed with trying to attain a sort of technical perfection in my writing. I was particularly concerned with identifying what I believed to be the optimal styles and structures for telling different kinds of stories. I won’t say that I wasted my time – I first began to dabble in different styles and genres because of this – but I didn’t find what I was looking for.
There was no perfect style. There was no perfect story structure. There were rules – so many rules – yet all too often they were broken to wonderful effect. What I learned, in the end, was that the great writers I’d examined all wrote in a way that best served the stories they wanted to tell. Moreover, they’d learned by doing. They hadn’t attained their skill through simply studying the science of writing. They’d achieved it by taking what they’d learned from studying the science of writing and applying it by practicing the craft of storytelling.
Let’s try an analogy. Most of us are familiar with how to build a dinner table. On a conceptual level, it isn’t a very difficult task. But how many of us would be able to build a good one the first time we tried, even with a solid amount of studying under our belts? Not many, I think.
Telling a good story is a lot like building a good dinner table. You’d never try to write a story without some study of the science behind writing, just like you’d never try to build a table without thinking about it first and researching a few methods. But knowing how to write a story doesn’t guarantee that you’ll write a good story anymore that knowing how to build a table guarantees that you’ll make a good table. It helps, don’t get me wrong, but there are some skills that can only truly be learned and mastered by practicing – writing is one of them.
If you’re a fiction writer, then the goal of your writing is to tell a story. You can study the science of writing, the techniques of storytelling, but the craft of storytelling cannot be mastered by mere observation and study. There are rules and guidelines and tips and tricks, but every story is different. The only way to identify what advice applies to your story is to write that story. You’ll make mistakes – I know I do. But you’ll also learn what works for you and which techniques and structures from the science of writing can best serve the story you wish to tell.
So by all means, study the science of writing, but don’t forget that the craft of storytelling must be practiced if you want to master it.
It’s easy to become a slave to perfection. Every writer knows that once the final edits are in and the book is published, then that is what the reader sees. And no good writer wants to put out garbage. No, every good writer wants to tell the best possible story. There’s nothing wrong with seeking perfection in prose. The mistake comes from thinking that you will actually achieve it.
I’ve lost count of the number of times that I’ve stared at a sentence or paragraph and wanted to tear my hair out in frustration. It might be an awkward turn of phrase or perhaps a poorly chosen word, but there are times when something just screams out that the writing isn’t good enough yet. So I go back to the drawing board, I take the passage in question apart and try to improve it. Does it need a little more punch? Is it too wordy? Does it flow nicely off the tongue? I don’t want the passage to be good – I want it to be perfect.
But let’s be realistic here. No story is perfect. No sentence is perfect. No writer is perfect. If you can’t say that a story is finished until it is perfect, then you will never finish even a single story. At some point, you have to draw the line and say no more. Enough is enough. This isn’t to say that editing is bad. No, editing is a good thing. Going back through your work (either on your own or with the assistance of an editor) can help ensure that the grammar and punctuation are up to a good standard and that the story is well written and self-consistent.
The urge to go back and revise is natural. A good writer wants to show readers their best, each and every time. So how do you know when to let go of a story? How do you know when enough is enough? Unfortunately, there are no simple rules for this. Over time, you do develop a better feel for when a story is complete.
However, I can give you one guideline. If your urge to go back and revise is leading to writing paralysis, then you need to get it under control. In other words, if the quest for perfection has become so demanding that you start agonising over every single word or sentence to the extent that you can’t actually get anything written, then, yes, you probably need to take a step back.
If you’ve revised a single paragraph fifteen times and still can’t get it right, then take a step back. Either it’s actually fine, and you’re worrying over nothing, or you’ve hit a mental block. In either case, stepping back will help. What looks terrible when you’re tired, cranky, and sleepy can look much better when you’re in a more rational state of mind. Likewise, time away from a problem can often help you come up with the solution.
This leads me to the final way that overthinking can get in the way of good writing: ruminating on past mistakes and potential problems.
We all make mistakes. But writing is such a personal endeavour that it can genuinely hurt to have those mistakes pointed out. I doubt there’s a writer alive who hasn’t been on the receiving end of at least one incredibly rude, negative, and spiteful review. I’ve received a few such reviews in my time, and I can remember going through a range of emotions.
At first, there’s disbelief at the idea that someone could hate something I’d written so much. Of course, there’s also anger. Even if someone keeps their criticism directed solely at your writing and not at you, it can still feel like a personal attack. There can also be sadness and fear. The sadness often comes if it turns out that their criticism is correct. You can feel stupid. You’ll ask yourself over and over again: how could I make that mistake? How about the fear? The fear derives from the thought of making the same mistakes again, of receiving another similarly harsh review, of proving – through your continued failure – that they were right about you.
Now, obviously, not every writer will go through this range of emotions. Indeed, I haven’t felt like that for a long, long time. Part of it is developing a thicker skin and more confidence – a novice writer is much more likely to be crushed by this sort of attack than someone who has experienced it before and has years of writing experience under their belt. This is why, although I make a point of being civil, polite, and respectful in all my reviews, I am especially gentle toward writers that I know are just starting out. Learning to write well is hard enough without people trying to tear you down every step of the way.
However, we also need to realise something very simple: we do not get to decide how readers feel about what we’ve written. We may think we’ve written a wonderful story and many readers may agree. But some readers may not like the story. They may even hate it with every fibre of their being. But that’s okay. They are the reader – they are the one who gets to decide how they feel about a story. Understanding and accepting this fact will make your life a lot easier. Not everyone will like what you write, and that’s okay.
But perhaps the hardest-hitting reviews are those filled with sincere, honest critiques that correctly identify a litany of mistakes and ways that your writing could be improved. It hurts to know that you’re wrong or that you’ve made a mistake. But such reviews should be treasured not feared. How can we improve if we don’t know what we’re doing wrong? Treasure constructive criticism. It takes a great deal of effort for a reader to leave constructive criticism, so don’t be upset when you receive some. Be glad. The reader cared enough to take the time and effort to offer a useful critique. It might hurt for a little while to know you’ve made a lot of mistakes and that your writing is still far from perfect, but acknowledging those mistakes and improving those weaknesses will only make you better in the long run.
I’ve received reviews for stories I’ve written that provide pages of accurate, insightful criticism. Not all of those reviews are written in a friendly manner, but I’m still happy whenever I get a review like that because I know it will help me to improve. Criticism isn’t something to be afraid of – consider it a challenge and then rise to meet it.
How about another analogy? It’s often said that a good quarterback needs to have amnesia. Of course, nobody actually wants a quarterback to have amnesia – how could they memorise the playbook and run the offence? What the saying means it that a quarterback has to be able to overcome mistakes. They can’t afford to get bogged down in mistakes they’ve made in the past. They have to learn from those mistakes and then move on. Ruminating, or dwelling, on those mistakes will only ruin their performance.
A writer must be the same way. Acknowledge your mistakes – acknowledge the criticism – and learn from it. Then move on. Don’t let a negative review or past mistakes crush you. With writing, there will always be a next time. Do better next time. Getting a negative review or making a big mistake can feel like a loss, but there’s no better way to erase the feeling of a loss than snagging a win. Keep writing – the wins will come.
Writing well is a very challenging task from a mental perspective. It demands a great deal of thinking. But it needs to be the right kind of thinking. Nobody in the world is perfect, but it helps to practice. And don’t shy away from criticism. Instead, use it to improve.
If you’re interested in some of my other thoughts on writing, you can find those here.
If you’re interested in my original fiction, you can find that here.
January 18, 2014
The Last Huntress Free On Amazon Today (Saturday 18th January)
The Last Huntress is available for free on Amazon today (18th January). If you're interested in fantasy with a good dose of action, it's the book for you. Here's the blurb:
Scarlett is the last of her line – a huntress sworn to kill all monsters.
Rose is a girl searching for the power to take back her homeland.
In the icy forests of the north, on the trail of the only werewolf to escape her, Scarlett will teach Rose what it means to be a huntress. There can be no room for softness in a huntress’s heart, no room for weakness. And a huntress must be willing to kill anything – and anyone – that poses a threat to the innocent.
You can get it on Amazon here.
Scarlett is the last of her line – a huntress sworn to kill all monsters.
Rose is a girl searching for the power to take back her homeland.
In the icy forests of the north, on the trail of the only werewolf to escape her, Scarlett will teach Rose what it means to be a huntress. There can be no room for softness in a huntress’s heart, no room for weakness. And a huntress must be willing to kill anything – and anyone – that poses a threat to the innocent.
You can get it on Amazon here.
December 13, 2013
FREE Copies of "The Last Huntress" Available for Review
If you'd like to pick up a FREE copy of "The Last Huntress" to review, please stop by this thread: https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/... or you can message me.
December 11, 2013
Purple Prose – A Grape By Any Other Name Would Still Hurt If It Hit You In The Eye
Purple prose is writing that is overly extravagant and ornate to the point that it becomes distracting or unpleasant to the reader. More often than not, it is complex simply for the sake of showing off (a less charitable person might call it authorial masturbation). It can also produce a few giggles, as well. Don’t believe me? How about we look at two pieces of prose, one purple and the other quite plain.
a) Billy went to school on a yellow bus. It was the first time he had ever caught the bus on his own, so he was worried when it got stuck in traffic. Luckily, the traffic jam didn’t last long, and he got to school on time.
I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the above example. Perhaps it is simple, but the point it’s trying to convey is also simple. So, why don’t we sex it up a little? Let’s turn the prose from grey… to purple (I’m talking purple like Barney the Dinosaur).
b) Billy set off for school upon a bus the same, gleaming yellow as the noon sun. He had never before journeyed on a bus bereft of his doting parents, so when the ungainly vehicle was trapped amongst a mass of cars, he was wrought with the most incredible tension. Quite felicitously, the crush of vehicles did not long endure, and he was able to arrive at his place of education in an appropriately punctual manner.
Not only does b) make me giggle but it also goes way over the top. A yellow bus is a yellow bus. It is not “a bus the same, gleaming yellow as the noon sun”. Anyone who describes it that way is looking for an excuse to show off their vocabulary at the expense of actually telling the reader what it happening in term that make sense.
True, it’s nice to have a large vocabulary. But there are also times when it’s better to simply call a spade a spade (and not a “hand-operated excavation tool”).
Not all purple prose is this obvious. Indeed, there can often be a very fine line between true eloquence and purple. One reader’s epic speech is another reader’s big, purple monstrosity.
Rather than going into the nitty-gritty of definitions, I’d like to focus on the question of why. Why do writers, many of them good, fall into the trap of purple prose? If we know why, then we can avoid making the same mistake.
Read more on my blog.
a) Billy went to school on a yellow bus. It was the first time he had ever caught the bus on his own, so he was worried when it got stuck in traffic. Luckily, the traffic jam didn’t last long, and he got to school on time.
I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the above example. Perhaps it is simple, but the point it’s trying to convey is also simple. So, why don’t we sex it up a little? Let’s turn the prose from grey… to purple (I’m talking purple like Barney the Dinosaur).
b) Billy set off for school upon a bus the same, gleaming yellow as the noon sun. He had never before journeyed on a bus bereft of his doting parents, so when the ungainly vehicle was trapped amongst a mass of cars, he was wrought with the most incredible tension. Quite felicitously, the crush of vehicles did not long endure, and he was able to arrive at his place of education in an appropriately punctual manner.
Not only does b) make me giggle but it also goes way over the top. A yellow bus is a yellow bus. It is not “a bus the same, gleaming yellow as the noon sun”. Anyone who describes it that way is looking for an excuse to show off their vocabulary at the expense of actually telling the reader what it happening in term that make sense.
True, it’s nice to have a large vocabulary. But there are also times when it’s better to simply call a spade a spade (and not a “hand-operated excavation tool”).
Not all purple prose is this obvious. Indeed, there can often be a very fine line between true eloquence and purple. One reader’s epic speech is another reader’s big, purple monstrosity.
Rather than going into the nitty-gritty of definitions, I’d like to focus on the question of why. Why do writers, many of them good, fall into the trap of purple prose? If we know why, then we can avoid making the same mistake.
Read more on my blog.
December 10, 2013
Susannah: Not Quite Legendary, Some Notes On Magic
One of the things I've learned is that little excerpts can be used to very effectively set the scene for a chapter or to provide important pieces of information that would otherwise be difficult to introduce. I'm considering adopting a similar approach in Susannah: Not Quite Legendary, with excerpts woven in between the chapters to help flesh out the world involved.
Today, I'd like to provide you with a glimpse at what one such extract might look like. Keep in mind that this extract isn't in the context it will eventually have when the story is finished. Basically, I'm thinking of putting it in between two chapters after Susannah's grandmother orders her to study or face her wrath (and given what Susannah's grandmother is capable of, that's not exactly an idle threat).
So, here's the extract. The big thing to look out for is the reference to The Last Huntress. I plan on changing that once Susannah: Not Quite Legendary is closer to completion. What will probably stay the same is the tone of the excerpt and the system of magic (the two stories are basically siblings to one another). Susannah is reading what amounts to a textbook, and it shows. The final version will probably be interspersed with comments from her (suitably snarky) about the nature the text.
The Different Kinds of Magic
There are two major branches of magic: external magic and internal magic. External magic affects things other than the person casting the magic. Internal magic affects the person casting the magic. Although external and internal magic appear to be quite different, they can still be used to produce similar effects. For instance, magic that slows down everything around the caster would be external magic. However, a similar effect can be achieved using internal magic to vastly increase the speed of the caster.
Within each of these two major branches of magic, there are three main ways in which magic can be used: creation, transformation, and control.
Read more on my blog.
Today, I'd like to provide you with a glimpse at what one such extract might look like. Keep in mind that this extract isn't in the context it will eventually have when the story is finished. Basically, I'm thinking of putting it in between two chapters after Susannah's grandmother orders her to study or face her wrath (and given what Susannah's grandmother is capable of, that's not exactly an idle threat).
So, here's the extract. The big thing to look out for is the reference to The Last Huntress. I plan on changing that once Susannah: Not Quite Legendary is closer to completion. What will probably stay the same is the tone of the excerpt and the system of magic (the two stories are basically siblings to one another). Susannah is reading what amounts to a textbook, and it shows. The final version will probably be interspersed with comments from her (suitably snarky) about the nature the text.
The Different Kinds of Magic
There are two major branches of magic: external magic and internal magic. External magic affects things other than the person casting the magic. Internal magic affects the person casting the magic. Although external and internal magic appear to be quite different, they can still be used to produce similar effects. For instance, magic that slows down everything around the caster would be external magic. However, a similar effect can be achieved using internal magic to vastly increase the speed of the caster.
Within each of these two major branches of magic, there are three main ways in which magic can be used: creation, transformation, and control.
Read more on my blog.
December 5, 2013
Susannah: Not Quite Legendary, Chapter One
I said I’d be keeping you guys posted as I go from tossing ideas around to writing chapters for Susannah: Not Quite Legendary. What I want to show you today is the first chapter of the novel, as it currently stands. Note: this isn’t the final version of the chapter. However, you should still be able to get a good idea of what kind of feel the final version will have.
Those of you that have read The Last Huntress may notice a few similarities. However, the many, many differences, I think, will more than speak for themselves. The first chapter is, in many ways, the most important chapter because it gives readers some idea of what to expect. If the story is going to be humorous, then you need to set the tone early. If it’s going to be a little tongue-in-cheek, then that needs to come across early too. It’s generally not a good idea to be super serious for half the book and then switch to humour. It kind of freaks people out.
I’ll be putting up my thoughts about the chapter itself in another post, but I invite all of you to read it and tell me what you think. If I had to describe it, I’d say its fantasy with a healthy (perhaps unhealthy) dose of humour and action. You can find the first chapter of Susannah: Not Quite Legendary below. If you’re interested in my other original fiction you can find that here.
Chapter One
Susannah took one look out the window and shook her head. It was a long way down. “I don’t care what you think. You are not throwing me out that window to serve as dragon bait.”
Her grandmother’s smile was one of utmost serenity. “All right, dearie. If you feel that strongly about it, we could always defenestrate you instead.”
That had gone a little too easy easily. “Really? You mean… wait!” Susannah scowled. “That means the same damn thing! I’ll say it again: you are not throwing me out that window.”
Read more on my blog
Those of you that have read The Last Huntress may notice a few similarities. However, the many, many differences, I think, will more than speak for themselves. The first chapter is, in many ways, the most important chapter because it gives readers some idea of what to expect. If the story is going to be humorous, then you need to set the tone early. If it’s going to be a little tongue-in-cheek, then that needs to come across early too. It’s generally not a good idea to be super serious for half the book and then switch to humour. It kind of freaks people out.
I’ll be putting up my thoughts about the chapter itself in another post, but I invite all of you to read it and tell me what you think. If I had to describe it, I’d say its fantasy with a healthy (perhaps unhealthy) dose of humour and action. You can find the first chapter of Susannah: Not Quite Legendary below. If you’re interested in my other original fiction you can find that here.
Chapter One
Susannah took one look out the window and shook her head. It was a long way down. “I don’t care what you think. You are not throwing me out that window to serve as dragon bait.”
Her grandmother’s smile was one of utmost serenity. “All right, dearie. If you feel that strongly about it, we could always defenestrate you instead.”
That had gone a little too easy easily. “Really? You mean… wait!” Susannah scowled. “That means the same damn thing! I’ll say it again: you are not throwing me out that window.”
Read more on my blog
December 3, 2013
Why Hard Work Matters Even If You've Got Magic
One of the things I’ve often considered in my original fiction is whether or not giving a character magic is cheating. Does giving them magic give them an unfair advantage over characters without magic? Worse, does it make things too easy for them?
It depends.
If a substantial proportion of the population have magic, then a character without magic is actually at a substantial disadvantage. Giving a character magic in that case isn’t cheating so much as it is levelling the playing field. However, it also depends on what kind of magic you give a character. Giving a character the ability to throw lightning is distinctly different from giving them the ability to alter reality on a grand scale with nothing more than a thought. The former has clearly defined strengths and weaknesses (e.g., they would be hard pressed to throw lightning underwater), but the latter is basically turning a character into a god.
Even powerful magic can be made to feel “fair” if it has weaknesses that can be exploited. For instance, vastly increased physical strength would still leave a character vulnerable to ranged attacks. Being able to punch through walls isn’t going to help if the opponent is busy shooting you in the chest with an arrow from several hundred yards away. Likewise, being able to set things on fire with a touch isn’t going to be much help against an opponent with vastly superior hand-to-hand combat skills.
Read more on my blog.
It depends.
If a substantial proportion of the population have magic, then a character without magic is actually at a substantial disadvantage. Giving a character magic in that case isn’t cheating so much as it is levelling the playing field. However, it also depends on what kind of magic you give a character. Giving a character the ability to throw lightning is distinctly different from giving them the ability to alter reality on a grand scale with nothing more than a thought. The former has clearly defined strengths and weaknesses (e.g., they would be hard pressed to throw lightning underwater), but the latter is basically turning a character into a god.
Even powerful magic can be made to feel “fair” if it has weaknesses that can be exploited. For instance, vastly increased physical strength would still leave a character vulnerable to ranged attacks. Being able to punch through walls isn’t going to help if the opponent is busy shooting you in the chest with an arrow from several hundred yards away. Likewise, being able to set things on fire with a touch isn’t going to be much help against an opponent with vastly superior hand-to-hand combat skills.
Read more on my blog.
December 2, 2013
Susannah: Not Quite Legendary
I’ve got another original fiction project in the works, and this time I want to share it with all of you. Rather than just giving you guys a preview at the end, I want to share the writing process and keep all of you posted as I go from putting together the initial ideas to drafting the chapters and writing up the final version. I’d also like to hear from all of you as I go along. Writing is a great thing, and it’s even better when it’s shared.
Unlike some of my previous original stories, Susannah: Not Quite Legendary is decidedly not dark and gloomy. Instead, you can expect a fair bit of mischief and a sense of humour. It’ll be a fantasy, but not exactly the kind you’re used to. Some heroes are born. Others are made. And some have to work really, really hard at it. Here’s the basic idea:
Legends never die – they just get old and snarky.
Susannah has a problem: her grandmother. The old woman is a legend amongst legends, the bane of any monster dumb enough to cross her path, and quite possibly the most dangerous thing in the world on two legs. She’s also determined to teach Susannah everything she knows about the noble profession of monster hunting.
Sounds good, right? Nothing like learning from the best, right?
Wrong. Really, really wrong.
When Susannah isn’t being used as dragon bait (since the best way to lure a dragon out is to give it something nice, young, and virginal to chase after) or getting kicked out of a tower window (to lure out said dragon), she’s being taught things the old-fashioned way.
Want to learn how to catch knives out of the air? Simple, just stand there and have your cranky grandmother throw knives at you.
Want to become an expert swordswoman? Easy, just let your grandmother, one of the greatest swordswomen of all time, beat the absolute stuffing out of you on a regular basis.
But this year may finally be the year that Susannah gets to show her stuff. She’s sixteen and ready to lead her first hunt. And when her grandmother bites off more than even she can chew, it’s up to Susannah to save her for a change – even if the rescue involves a ridiculous amount of property damage.
When you come from a family of legendary monster hunters, growing up isn’t easy. Susannah is going to find out that as good as she is, she’s not quite legendary yet.
Let me know what you think. And, yes, this story is kind of a flip-side to The Last Huntress. Hooray for kick-ass grandmother’s with a penchant for kicking their granddaughters out of windows.
Read more on my blog.
Unlike some of my previous original stories, Susannah: Not Quite Legendary is decidedly not dark and gloomy. Instead, you can expect a fair bit of mischief and a sense of humour. It’ll be a fantasy, but not exactly the kind you’re used to. Some heroes are born. Others are made. And some have to work really, really hard at it. Here’s the basic idea:
Legends never die – they just get old and snarky.
Susannah has a problem: her grandmother. The old woman is a legend amongst legends, the bane of any monster dumb enough to cross her path, and quite possibly the most dangerous thing in the world on two legs. She’s also determined to teach Susannah everything she knows about the noble profession of monster hunting.
Sounds good, right? Nothing like learning from the best, right?
Wrong. Really, really wrong.
When Susannah isn’t being used as dragon bait (since the best way to lure a dragon out is to give it something nice, young, and virginal to chase after) or getting kicked out of a tower window (to lure out said dragon), she’s being taught things the old-fashioned way.
Want to learn how to catch knives out of the air? Simple, just stand there and have your cranky grandmother throw knives at you.
Want to become an expert swordswoman? Easy, just let your grandmother, one of the greatest swordswomen of all time, beat the absolute stuffing out of you on a regular basis.
But this year may finally be the year that Susannah gets to show her stuff. She’s sixteen and ready to lead her first hunt. And when her grandmother bites off more than even she can chew, it’s up to Susannah to save her for a change – even if the rescue involves a ridiculous amount of property damage.
When you come from a family of legendary monster hunters, growing up isn’t easy. Susannah is going to find out that as good as she is, she’s not quite legendary yet.
Let me know what you think. And, yes, this story is kind of a flip-side to The Last Huntress. Hooray for kick-ass grandmother’s with a penchant for kicking their granddaughters out of windows.
Read more on my blog.
November 30, 2013
Some Thoughts on Conflict
In many ways, stories are driven by conflict. A story in which everything goes exactly to plan for the main character would not only seem unrealistic – it would also seem very boring. But there are different kinds of conflict, and today I would like to focus on two: external conflict and internal conflict.
External conflict occurs when the goals or desires of one character are opposed by an external force (typically another character). The classic example of this is when the protagonist wants one thing and the antagonist wants the opposite. This occurs quite frequently in fiction because it ensures conflict. It ensures that stuff actually happens. For example, if the hero of a story wants to free their country from the tyrannical rule of an evil empire and the villain wants to ensure the continuation of that tyrannical rule, then it is all but inevitable that the two will come to blows (either in a literal sense or a figurative sense).
However, external conflict need not always arise from two characters with opposing desires and objectives. On the contrary, it can arise even when two characters want the same thing but differ in how, when, where, and why they think that goal should be achieved.
Read more on my blog.
External conflict occurs when the goals or desires of one character are opposed by an external force (typically another character). The classic example of this is when the protagonist wants one thing and the antagonist wants the opposite. This occurs quite frequently in fiction because it ensures conflict. It ensures that stuff actually happens. For example, if the hero of a story wants to free their country from the tyrannical rule of an evil empire and the villain wants to ensure the continuation of that tyrannical rule, then it is all but inevitable that the two will come to blows (either in a literal sense or a figurative sense).
However, external conflict need not always arise from two characters with opposing desires and objectives. On the contrary, it can arise even when two characters want the same thing but differ in how, when, where, and why they think that goal should be achieved.
Read more on my blog.
November 28, 2013
The Neighbourhood Cat (+ The Possum In The Air Vent)
I’ve made references to the wildlife where I live before. There is the cockatoo that drinks pool water (the level of chlorination doesn’t seem to matter), the rabbits that frequent the oval and a local school, and the bush turkey that continues to prance around on neighbouring rooftops making the most hideous noises imaginable at the worst possible times of the day (and night).
However, there is also a cat that lives in the neighbourhood. What makes this cat interesting is that it doesn’t seem to have an owner. It has no collar, and it doesn’t seem to spend more than a few hours in the same place or at the same house.
The cat is mostly a friendly thing. It has obviously been around people before. It likes to be petted and cuddled, and it has learned when the people in my house eat breakfast and dinner so that it can drop by for leftovers (it has even learned what time I get back from walking/jogging in the morning so that it can greet me and look for some food when I get back).
Read more on my blog.
However, there is also a cat that lives in the neighbourhood. What makes this cat interesting is that it doesn’t seem to have an owner. It has no collar, and it doesn’t seem to spend more than a few hours in the same place or at the same house.
The cat is mostly a friendly thing. It has obviously been around people before. It likes to be petted and cuddled, and it has learned when the people in my house eat breakfast and dinner so that it can drop by for leftovers (it has even learned what time I get back from walking/jogging in the morning so that it can greet me and look for some food when I get back).
Read more on my blog.
