Mark Phillips's Blog, page 6

On the importance of Confidence

Confidence is one of the most important traits that a writer can have. This can be an easy thing to say (almost glib really) but a much harder thing to put in practice. Especially if you're an indie/small press/unpublished writer. Sometimes there are dark days when you question why you're spending the time, why you're creating this world. Will anyone care? Will anyone buy it? Will anyone like it?

Doubt is the enemy of creativity. It will seep into your fiction and destroy all your hard work. This is one reason why I write as fast as possible, spending little time on fact-checking, grammar checking or research. I save these things for my editing process. When the doubt is more or less at bay. Of course, it's always there, it's just that when I've actually completed the manuscript it seems to have been de-clawed.

The place I most often see doubt in fiction (from established writers and novices alike) is in vocabulary.
Writers seem to be so doubtful of their vocabulary. It's as if they think-"I'm a writer! Everyone expects that I will know words they've never even imagined existed".
I can assure you that I've never thought that a writer had a small vocabulary when I was reading a book. I've never heard anyone else complain of this either. It's hard to miss salubrious when it's not there on the page.
What I have heard, is readers complaining that they had to look a word up and then thinking that the writer didn't really use it correctly.
My wife is currently reading Hemlock Grove by Brian McGreevy. Now this is not a commentary on Mr. McGreevy's ability to write (I haven't read the book) but more on something that I think many writers use as a crutch-the thesaurus.
My wife has asked me about several words that he uses in his book. Many of them seem an approximation of what he wants to say, but not exactly what he wants to say.
One example will serve to show my point:

Peter seized Letha's arm and pulled her out the back door. Not thinking, but heedless obeisance to his most basic instinct.

Here is why that word (wonderful as it is) is not right in the context. Obeisance is defined as a physical movement of respect, such as bowing. Or as deferential respect to an authority figure.
It is used for a definite article, such as a deity or royalty, and not for an indefinite concept such as someone's "basic instinct".
I mean, he's literally saying that this guy worships his instinct.

Herein lies the problem. Too often, writers feel doubt when it comes to their vocabulary. They believe that if they could only find an "important" word it would lend weight to their writing.
But stiffness and weight is not the key to good writing.
Among other things, clarity is the key to good writing. Clarity of thought and idea. That is why doubt is so dangerous-doubt destroys the clarity.
This is the danger of using a thesaurus. Doubtless, Mr. McGreevy meant to convey that the character was obeying his basic instinct and I'm willing to guess that was the first word that popped into his head. Then, either while writing or later in the editing process, someone (it easily could have been an editor-they have doubts too) decided that obeisance sounded better.
Maybe it rolls off the tongue better, but it's not really what the writer meant.
The first word that you think of when you're writing is almost always the best one. The one that hits on the thought you're trying to convey most closely.
There is no need to doubt your vocabulary. Readers are not going to judge you for it. Perhaps snobbish elites will (they live to criticize anything) but they aren't the audience you're writing to-I pray.

Consider this passage:

Some of the owner men were kind because they hated what they had to do, and some of them were angry because they hated to be cruel, and some of them were cold because they had long ago found that one could not be an owner unless one were cold. And all of them were caught in something larger than themselves. Some of them hated the mathematics that drove them, and some were afraid, and some worshiped the mathematics because it provided a refuge from thought and from feeling.

The thoughts and feelings of this passage are complex, the grammar complex. The language, the vocabulary, is basically at a fifth grade level.
This quote is from John Steinbeck's, "The Grapes of Wrath" and it is called one of the best books of the last one-hundred years. Steinbeck is regarded as a genius.
And no one ever accused him of having a small vocabulary.

When it comes to vocabulary I believe what you have is what you use. You don't have to search outside of yourself for some fancy, dressed-up word to say what you mean.
Don't let the doubt win. Say what you mean, in your own words. Not in the words of Funk and Wagnalls.

On the importance of reading

Okay, perhaps I'm preaching to the converted posting this on a site called Goodreads. Still, I believe that as the percentage of Americans who read regularly drops (and the percentage of Americans who watch television skyrockets) we lose a little piece of our culture. It's not something that's talked about often, but I thought we would sit and discuss this issue for a minute.

To start, it's important to highlight the differences between reading and watching television or a movie.
Both are forms of entertainment, to be sure, but television and movies are a visual medium. We are only given what is right in front of us.
Reading is a mental medium. It engages are brain in a way that television never could.
That's not an indictment on television, just a fact based on the limitations of the medium.
When we read we engage our imaginations. The writer isn't the only one creating a world. Sure, it's the writer's world we are experiencing and the writer is directing the action, but we're making that world our own. No two people will a seen a character in the same way, no two people will imagine a building or a bush or a cigar in the exact same way. We are putting our own personal touches on the world of the author. That use of imagination makes reading a unique type of medium.
It is interesting to think how, as entertainment evolved, it moved away from the engagement of imagination and more towards the explicit.
Reading is the purest form of entertainment (in terms of imagination) then came radio, which was only an auditory medium-you had to picture the actors and the action. Then came movies and television, which eliminated the need for imagination completely.
Reading also enriches your vocabulary in a way that no other medium can. When you are reading you have nothing but the words on the page to guide you. That puts you in contact with the language and broadens your ability to both use words in context and helps your expression.
Reading keeps your mind active. I've read articles about how doing a crossword puzzle can help people prevent Alzheimer's disease and reading follows the same principle.
For writers, I believe that reading is essential. The passion for reading is most often the extension of a passion for reading. That connection that occurs between author and reader is a strong bond and as you continue to read, some people feel the desire to form their own bonds with others. That is the essence of writing.
A writer who does not read is a writer who can't possible understand the craft. It is through the work or others, both good and bad, that we see the structure and the beauty of written communication. Mistakes are often better teachers than successes in this situation and a writer who fails to read is doomed to make the mistakes of all those who came before him-and probably continue to repeat their own mistakes having no context to learn from.
Finally, the emotional connection of a well-written book is something that can't be duplicated by any medium. A book takes you through a journey by looking through someone else's eyes. It is literally walking a mile in another person's shoes. At best, television gives us a kind of "bird's eye" view of the action, but there is a distance to that kind of viewing. A book puts you right in a person's head. You think what they think, you feel what they feel.
The novel has been through the wringer. From the top dog of entertainment to being declared dead to rising, phoenix-like, from the ashes. The beauty and simplicity of the art form has kept it alive for thousands of years. May it live for thousands more.

Beyond the Mask

First blog entry, so I guess I should let you all know what to expect.
These blogs will consist of two kinds of topics:
1. Updates on works in progress and information and soon-to-be released titles
2. My thoughts on the publishing industry and the craft of writing.

This first blog will be about the former.

Progress on Beyond the Mask (the sequel to Beneath the Mask of Sanity) has been rapid to say the least. I anticipate that the book will be finished in about four days, which will be twenty days after I began the manuscript.
I usually work quickly, but this has been unprecedented even for me. Especially when you consider that I have three children running about the house-ages: 8, 3 and 12 weeks.
For those of you who have read Beneath the Mask of Sanity, this release will seem very quick (There is a tentative July release date, but it may be moved up by a couple weeks) but the truth is, I've lived with Beyond the Mask of Sanity for quite awhile.
The first draft of the book was completed in 2008. Since that time I've written three more novels before returning to the world of Bentley Grimes and Frank Miles.
I have decided to post an excerpt of the beginning of the story here to sort of wet your beaks.

Keep in mind, if you have not yet read Beneath the Mask of Sanity there are spoilers below. So why don't you go out and get a copy today!
Also this is the roughest of drafts. I have no looked at this in any way since I first typed it.


Beyond the Mask:



Frank Miles stood in the center of the room. He supposed it was some sort of conference room. Something that the doctors used to inform family members when their loved-ones had died. Died in the mental hospital, never getting out.
That was supposed to be Bentley, Frank thought.
Besides Frank, there was a long table covered with a black sheet at one end of the room. Five doctors sat behind the table, but the only one that mattered was Jenkins. He was the one sitting in the middle; he was the one in charge.
A bar of light had found its way through the blinds and shone on the carpeted floor. It lay right in front of Frank, almost like the tape they put down on a stage during a play so the actors know their marks.
“We understand your objections,” Jenkins said. There was a large smile on his face, but it never touched his eyes. Those remained cold and gray, assessing Frank.
“You don’t understand shit,” Frank said. His voice was slurred, he sounded like someone who had just suffered from a stroke.
The metal box was gone (and with it the mechanical voice) and that was good, but his speech therapy could only go so far and Frank would never sound like a normal human being again.
“If you understood things, you wouldn’t be doing this,” Frank said.
“With all due respect,” Jenkins said. “We know what you went through at the hands of Mr. Grimes and we understand that you’re upset, but you are not a doctor.”
“What about Abrams?” Frank asked. “He was a doctor. Did he understand? Oh, I forgot, he’s gone isn’t he?”
Jenkins’s eyes slitted to a thin bar of gray and his mouth tightened. “Dr. Abrams is none of our concern.”
Frank knew what Abrams was up to. For personal reasons, he had followed the man’s career. Bestselling book, lecture tour, private practice. He had it all; everything that he ever could of wanted. That’s why it was such a shock to the world when he put the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger.
Frank hadn’t been surprised. Your conscious had a way of catching up to you. If you had one that was.
One of the younger doctors spoke up. He was a small man with what looked like about two pounds of kinky red hair on top of his head.
“We have been treating Mr. Grimes for the past ten years and our decision was not arrived at lightly.”
Frank turned his attention to the young doctor. “Mr. Grimes (because of his speech impediment Grimes came out sounding like rhymes) is a violent murderer. You are putting people’s lives at risk.” Frank stabbed his finger at the doctor. “And after he kills his next victim I will be back here to shove my foot so far up your ass you’ll taste shoe polish.”
The color fell from the young doctor’s face and he opened his mouth to speak, but Jenkins overrode him.
“It is the decision of this hospital that Mr. Grimes was not suffering from psychosis as was originally thought.”
“As was originally lied about,” Frank said.
Jenkins took no notice of this and continued. “He was suffering from violent sociopathy. Now it’s a rare occurance, but sometimes with the proper therapy and medication an individual can overcome this disorder.”
“So he’s cured?” Frank asked. It was not a serious question, but Jenkins answered it anyway.
“Of course not,” Jenkins said. “He is never going to experience the world the way you or I do. What has happened is that he’s begun to acknowledge the need to respect other people and the rule of law. He understands that what he did was wrong. He has started to develop a moral compass for lack of a better word.”
Jenkins gave another one of his shitty little smiles and all of a sudden Frank no longer wanted to be there. Driving down had been a mistake. The whole thing had been a mistake. They had made up their mind and there was nothing he was going to do to change it.
What would have been better is if he had found a way to smuggle his gun inside the hospital the one time he had visited Bentley. Smuggled it in and used it to blow the mother fucker’s brains out. But that hadn’t happened and this was the reality that Frank was left to deal with.
“I’m sorry to have wasted your time,” Frank said. “I see now that listening to reason is not something you’re willing to do.”
Frank turned and headed for the door, but before he got there he turned around and assessed the group sitting behind their table.
“I meant what I said though; when Bentley kills again, and he will kill again, I’ll be back and I will hold all of you personally responsible.”