writing

Resolutions

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Happy 2019! A new year often calls for resolutions, and I’m giving them a shot this year. Several of my resolutions have to do with writing, of course. Here’s what I’ve come up with so far:

  1. Lose 20 Pounds
  2. Self-publish two books
  3. Sell at least five books per month
  4. Run a 5K
  5. Record five songs
  6. Learn Book Marketing

I feel most of the resolutions are pretty self-explanatory. I’m seriously overweight, and 20 pounds seems doable in a year. I’m hard at work on book 5 and have a rough outline for book 6 ready, so I should be able to self-publish two books this year. Resolutions #3 and #6 are connected: if I can market my books more effectively, I can sell more books. Running a 5K is tied up with the weight loss. And finally, I want to get back to recording songs again. I recorded a couple last year that I was very happy with, and this year I’d like to get several more in the can.

So, those are my resolutions. What are yours?

Not Giving Up

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I’ll be honest: the past couple of months, I’ve thought about giving up on writing.

It’s all very self-pitying. Book Two has not been selling. At all. And that’s had my depression whispering in my ear that I’m not good enough and that I should just quit. It’s a seductive, nasty voice, one that I’ve worked hard over the years to learn to ignore. Nonetheless, it still pops up from time to time, still tells me I’m not good enough and that giving up would be so much easier.

Then I got a call from my brother over the weekend. He’s been one of my patrons over on Patreon, which is apparently in the middle of revising its approach to patron fees in a way that really screws over the folks who are supporting you. He wanted to let me know he was going to cancel his pledge due to the fees issue, but he still wanted to send me money every month.

“That’s not really necessary,” I said.

“No, it is,” he replied, and proceeded to explain:

Apparently, my niece, Annabelle, enjoys reading my comics every morning, but she really got excited when she found out I write books. She’s been trying to read one of them (which, um, she really shouldn’t. It’s not meant for five-year-olds), and has even started trying to write a book of her own.

And it just…well, I might’ve cried a bit, as I am wont to do.

It was encouraging, and reminded me why I enjoy writing so much in the first place. I love telling stories. I love inspiring people. And I love that my niece wants to write and read things I’ve written.

So, maybe I need to take a break from writing hard-boiled detective stories. I’ve got two more already written and ready to send to an editor, so I could take a break from Eddie and company and work on things more age-appropriate for my niece. I already have an idea. I already know what it’ll be about. It’ll be right up her alley, and it’ll be written so that she can read it and enjoy it.

And then, when she’s older, maybe she can read the Hazzard Pay books. Maybe.

Regardless, I’m not going to stop writing. I’m not giving up. That voice in my ear is strong and cruel, but I’m stronger. And I’m stubborn. I’ll keep plugging away until I accomplish what I want.

NaNoWriMo 2017!

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It’s November 1st, and we all know what that means: NaNoWriMo! That’s right, its’ National Novel Writing Month again. Last year, I worked on a series of short stories (only a couple of which I actually ended up liking), and the year before that was The Invisible Crown. A few years before that – the first time I did NaNoWriMo – I wrote the original draft of The Hidden Throne. And the year after that one, I wrote what’s now Book 4 in the series, the as-yet-unreleased Crooked Halos.

What I’m saying is, I like doing NaNoWriMo. I like the challenge and the structure of it. I always intend to do so much writing during the summer months, when my schedule is looser and there aren’t nearly so many obligations eating away at my time. But I always end up getting nothing done. It doesn’t help that my depression usually rears its ugly head during the summer months, when I’m more socially-isolated than the rest of the year.

But November, for whatever reason, is prime writing time for me. I get so much written every November, even if it’s not a full novel. And it usually carries over into the rest of the winter, with me getting lots of words in throughout December and January as well. I can usually get at least one book written during that time, sometimes more.

So, here’s to a positive and productive NaNoWriMo! I’m planning to use the time this year to work on a few short stories I’ve got rattling around, and maybe I’ll finish up Book 5 while I’m at it. There’s always plenty to do!

Status Update

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So, it’s the end of summer, and the beginning of a new school year. This time of year is always a bit strange for me. While most folks think of autumn as a time when things slow down as the weather grows colder and the trees shift colors, I tend to feel more energized. It probably has something to do with getting back to school and in front of the classroom.

Summer tends to be a bit of a doldrums for me, writing-wise. I think I maybe wrote 1,000 words the entire summer. I did do quite a bit of planning on a couple of works in progress, but I didn’t get a whole lot of actual words on the page, so to speak.

That being said, it’s the first week of the new school year for me, and already I’ve managed to get quite a bit done. I finally reformatted The Invisible Crown for the paperback version with the new cover and a few minor tweaks to the text here and there. I also formatted the paperback version of The Hidden Throne, though I’m still waiting on the cover for that one. I’ve also released a free ebook version of my short story, “Solitaire,” through the website Instafreebie. The idea is that the short story will serve as a way to pull people into the world of Eddie Hazzard and maybe convince them to buy the book. It’s only been downloaded a few times since I put it up, but it’s already translated to at least a couple of sales, so I’m happy about it.

So, what’s coming up? Well, The Hidden Throne is ready to roll as soon as it gets a cover. In the meantime, I’ve started work on a new Hazzard short story about his first case as a solo private detective. I’m also working on a young adult novel (it’s mostly planned out, though I’ve only written a few thousand words on it so far). Of course, there’s also editing and proofing of Hazzard Pay Books 3 and 4 to be done, and I’m still working on Book 5. Books 6 and 7 are in the rough plotting stage, too. So there’s lots of writing ahead, and my motivation seems to finally be kicking in again after the word drought of summer.

Running Out of Things to Write About

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I worry sometimes that I’m running out of things to write about.

Not  in the books!  No, I’ve got enough material for the Hazzard novels to run through at least book #7, and plenty of material for short story fodder.

No, I’m talking about on here.  The blog.  What the heck should I talk about here?

I don’t want to do the usual, “Here’s what I think every writer should do,” or offer tips on how to write the perfect first page or craft the best dialogue or whatever.  Folks that wanna do that stuff?  More power to ’em.  There’s lots of new writers out there actively looking for that kind of blog post, looking for that support in getting started.  But I don’t think that I’m the best for any of that.  My usual writing method is, “Oh, this idea seems entertaining/cool.  I think I’ll jot it down and then try to build on it.”  That’s how most of the novels got started: a single scene popped into my head and wouldn’t go away until I wrote it down and then wrote down more stuff around it.

My approach to plot and dialogue is best described as, “Throw stuff at the page and see what sticks.”  There’s nothing wrong with that; I think it serves me quite well.  But that’s not exactly inspiring for other writers, is it?  “I just write stuff down until I’m done writing it down, and I think most of the words are in the right order,” does not a poster slogan make.  Though maybe…

2017-06-06 08.59.03.jpg

Nah.  That’d be silly.

Envy

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Well, after having the cover to my book as my phone background since November, I finally changed it earlier this week.  I tend to change phone backgrounds pretty frequently, so my dedication to the book cover background was unusual.

I switched to the image above, a sketch by the artist Nick Derington.  A quick perusal through his website – especially the sketchbook section – was pretty inspiring and impressive.  I love the guy’s art style.  Reminds me quite a bit of Chris Samnee or Darwyn Cooke.

And his stuff makes me extremely jealous.

I mean, that Batman image is a rough sketch he did with a ballpoint pen.  My finished art has never looked that good.  Never will.  Part of me is so envious of his talent.

It’s the same way with lots of authors, too.  I read their work and I’m jealous of their talent, their skill, their ability to craft a story or a character or even just a line of dialogue.  “I’ll never write anything that good,” I say to myself, discouraged and deflated.

Here’s the thing, though: everyone who does anything creative or artistic feels that way at some point.  When someone as talented and well-regarded as Neil Gaiman can still experience impostor syndrome, you know it’s a worry that weighs heavily on all of us.

So I constantly have to remind myself that someone else’s skill does not detract or reduce what I do.  I think back to a thing I heard, years ago, about music: every song is someone’s favorite.  By correlation, every book or comic must be someone’s favorite, too.  So, while there’s folks out there who absolutely love that image of Batman up there (like I do), there’s probably someone out there who prefers something I’ve drawn.  For every fan of Neil Gaiman’s American Gods, there’s someone out there who loves some other book more (maybe even my book, though I’m not so full of myself to think that’s actually true).  Hell, there’s probably even someone out there who likes the “song” (and I use that term loosely) “Revolution #9.”

Am I still jealous of Nick Derington’s skills?  God, yes.  Am I going to let that stop me from creating my own stuff?  Hell, no.

My Story

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While I attempt to dig myself out of my depressive funk, enjoy this thing I wrote years ago that I re-read the other day and didn’t hate.

—

When I write my story, there will be no hero.  There will be no happy ending.

There will be an infinite sadness, a streak of pain painted across the night sky, an arc of red against a field of black.

There will be blood, and a wailing, and a gnashing of teeth.

And ponies.  There will probably be ponies.

* * *

My main character will not be a white male.  No, my protagonist won’t even be human, or sentient, or recognizable as a character.  It’ll be a bacterium, or a fugus, perhaps a particularly plucky protozoa.

There won’t be a determined, independent woman in the story, either.  No humans at all, except maybe as the setting.  Or the antagonist.  We’re pretty antagonistic towards every other living thing in existence, it seems, so we’d make pretty damn convincing antagonists.

* * *

I don’t really think I’ll have a theme, or follow much in the way of writing conventions.  Everyone’s done pretty much everything you can with stories that make sense, that follow narrative structure.  Hell, everything’s been done with stories that don’t follow narrative structure.  I’ve read Joyce and Bely, I know all about that whole stream of consciousness nonsense.

My story will be told through pheromones and suggestive twitches of flagella.

* * *

It won’t be a long story.  There’s no need to go on for thousands and thousands of pages, hundreds of thousands of words stacking up like bricks in a wall or CDs on a club kid’s nightstand.  There may only be a single word to my magnum opus.  It’ll be a word that rolls over the tongue, one that lolls about in the mouth, coating everything in a thin film.  Something like “lugubrious,” or “gibbous,” or possibly “sumptuous.”

Or maybe it will just be a description of some hardcore bestiality for a thousand pages.  I’m not set on anything just yet.

* * *

Ultimately, no one will read my story.  It will exist only in my head, if even there, and only for a short while if at all.  I’m not entirely certain the world is ready for my work of speculative flash fiction featuring an unknowable protagonist and us as the antagonist.  It’s a bit of a stretch, really.

Also, I haven’t found a publisher, and I’m sure as hell not gonna self-publish this mess.

Deliberate Writing

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I write by the seat of my pants.  I make it up as I go along.  Everything is pretty fast and loose, and it usually (for the most part) works for the Eddie Hazzard stories.

Over last weekend, though, I started a new story, a different kind of story.  And I’m approaching it differently.  I’m writing and rewriting the same few paragraphs over and over, trying to get the wording and tone perfect.

It’s strange, writing very deliberately like this.  Not bad, per se, but very different from what I’m used to. The story evolved quite a bit from when I first started it; originally, it was a pretty bland fantasy story.  But I scrapped that in favor of a western style story, about an old Native American woman.  As of this writing, I’m not very deep into it.  I’m moving slowly, writing a few lines at a time, then thinking about what to say next.  I don’t have a tight plot for the story (I can only change my writing process so much), but I do have a good idea what will happen in the story.  I know how it ends.  I know some of the things that have to happen in between.  I don’t know how long it will end up being.  I do know I’m enjoying the process of writing this story.  It’s a nice palate cleanser in between Hazzard novels.  Hopefully you’ll get to see it sooner rather than later.

Discipline and Inspiration

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A lot of my writer friends like to treating writing like any other job: there are deadlines, quotas to meet, specific goals to achieve.  And I get that.  If you just keep endlessly working on the same book forever, you’re never going to get to publish it any move on to something new.  But I also feels like it gives short shrift to the creative aspect of what we’re doing here.

Everyone decries inspiration as a fickle, fleeting muse, as though waiting for it to make an appearance is a form of weakness in a writer and a sign that they’re not a True Author (TM).  As if the only way to really, truly being a professional in the field is to spend each day putting words on the page, some good and some bad, and then going back and editing them to make them all polished gold or something.

That strikes me as a bit disingenuous.  Each of us started writing because we were struck with some bit of inspiration.  Maybe it was just a scene, or a character, or even a word or phrase.  Maybe it was a line of dialogue, or the brief description of an action or something.  We all started from a place of inspiration, not a place of discipline.  And while I think it’s great that some writers can crank out words every day without concern for whether or not they’re good words (or they’re words that can be fixed in editing), I’d still rather take my time, maybe not get something on the page every day, and make sure I put down the right words the first time ’round.

And maybe that’s arrogance on my part.  Maybe I’m not being as clear here as I’d like to be.  Writing about writing is always fraught with hand-wringing and sounding full of yourself.  “The Process,” y’know.  I always roll my eyes when creative folks talk about their Process.  It sounds so pretentious.  And I’m sure talking of inspiration sounds that way, too.  It’s a lot more down-to-earth to talk about being a writer through the self-discipline of writing.  You sound like a human, or like anyone could do what you do if they just built that discipline themselves.

But I’m not sure that’s true.  Maybe it’s a bit elitist, but not everybody can do everything, even with discipline.  I could practice every day, hire the best trainers and go through intense regimens, and still never be a better basketball player than LeBron James or Michael Jordan.  I could push myself to practice for hours a day, doing riffs and runs and arpeggios, and never be as good a guitar player as Prince was.  Those are (or were) all highly-disciplined people who spent years honing their crafts, but they started with the inspiration.  I’m just saying maybe we shouldn’t discount that part quite so much.  Discipline without inspiration is just so much hard work for nothing.