Fannying about on the Guardian Website yesterday, as you do, I came across this rather lovely article bringing together writing advice from all sorts of fabulous writers.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2010/feb/20/ten-rules-for-writing-fiction-part-one
Having started reading it I realised of course that I had seen it linked in Neil Gaiman’s blog, and via writerly people on Twitter, but I had skipped over it somewhat, as I am normally a little reluctant to look over such advice. This is because it can either fire me up to get on with some writing now now now (and if I’m reading an article on a website, I’m normally in the wrong place for that) or it just irritates me and I spend ages stewing over it in a pointless nark.
But, to be fair, there are some gems in here, particularly from Roddy Doyle:
“Do not place a photograph of your favourite author on your desk, especially if the author is one of the famous ones who committed suicide”
“Do not search amazon.co.uk for the book you haven't written yet.”
“Do give the work a name as quickly as possible. Own it, and see it. Dickens knew Bleak House was going to be called Bleak House before he started writing it. The rest must have been easy.”
I really like that last one. The book often seems to take on its own identity once I’ve figured out what the title is, as if it is somehow more real once it has a name. And names are important. But no one ever talks about how we name our books...
Other lines of advice from other authors I found less helpful, such as those that suggest reading a certain person’s work, as if this is somehow essential. I know there are people out there who will froth at the mouth if I suggest that actually I can’t be arsed to read Austen or Chekov or what-‘ave-you, but I believe that we find our essential texts ourselves, through a process of trial and error and bloody mindedness. What is earth shattering and profound for me may not be for you, and I wouldn’t expect it to be the case. Read what you love, and you’ll write what you love.
(I firmly believe that in the future people will be saying “You must read Pratchett” alongside “You must read Dickens”, so I’m just getting in there early)
Several people suggest going for a long walk when you’re stuck on a plot point; I would love to have the time for long walk. That sounds fantastic. But the idea of a walk without a reason for getting somewhere, without a destination, is completely alien to me. I live in London, you have to be going somewhere, not meandering about. Meandering gets you evil looks. From me, mostly.
Anyway, whether or not the writing advice is appropriate or useful really depends on the writer receiving it. Elmore Leonard’s 10 Rules for example are very famous and for good reason; but I look at them and feel a little depressed- no physical descriptions of characters? No descriptions of place or surroundings? The science-fiction and fantasy genres would be somewhat sadder and drabber without such things; or perhaps I’m a little bitter because I love a good prologue, me.
From my own (limited) experience, the only writing advice that matters is also the most obvious. There are two rules:
1) Write
2) Read
After all, the writing only actually gets done if you sit down and do it, and it’s also the only way you learn and get better. And if you’re not a reader, why on earth would you want to be a writer? (Believe it or not I did know someone who was attempting to write a book despite only having the vaguest interest in reading themselves- the mind boggles!). There’s other stuff that I’ve learnt along the way, but the more in depth you get the more tailored it is to me alone- write every day, keep a notebook with you, don’t have the internet on when you’re trying to get something done, don’t let the cat get comfy in front of the screen, have motivational post-its and a My Little Pony in your writing space, use chocolate as a reward… You see what I mean. In the end, Rule 1 and Rule 2 are the ones we have to stick to, and if we do, we’ll get there in the end.
Tuesday, 23 February 2010
Tuesday, 29 December 2009
It's that time of year again...
Oh 2009, how shall we judge you?
Annoyingly, I am something of an optimist and normally reluctant to judge a year based on perhaps the last six months or so; if that were not the case, I would merrily tell 2009 to take a running jump off a prickly cliff. But I’m always looking for the silver lining in the dark clouds (or the smarties in the dog turd) so I shy away from condemning it completely. It’s time to look, perhaps, at what I hoped to do in 2009 and what I actually did, as awkward and slightly embarrassing as it may be:
By the end of this year I wanted to have finished Bad Apple Bone, written an entirely new novel, and a novella during November (which would also be finished).
What I actually did: Well, I did finish Bad Apple Bone (when was that? May? I think it may even have been on Star Wars day…), which was a major achievement I suppose, after two years writing the bugger. It was my first book, and my first real attempt at writing anything, and remains the truest thing I have written, I think.
I did start writing an entirely new book, A Boy of Blood and Clay, and even got 61,000 words into it, but made the rather silly error of mistaking research for planning, and found myself halfway through the book with only the slightest inkling of what was happening. Plus, I really loathed one of the main characters, and wanted to kill her off. Except she was already dead. Oh.
So that book remains at rest currently, “composting” as my favourite art tutor would put it. And the NaNoWriMo novella? Well that little bugger turned into an actual full length book, full of dirt and ooze and I’m-Not-Even-Sure-What-Happens-Next mystery, which made it brilliant fun to write, even as it grows in scope by the minute and I have no chance of finishing it this year.
In conclusion then, I have one finished novel, and two unfinished full length books; not exactly where I wanted to be, but, I have to look the bright side (or the Skittles in the dog plop); this year I have written, not including finishing Bad Apple Bone or any short stories that popped into existence, around 120,000 words. And I can’t really complain about that.
2010 will be the year I learn to give up my time properly to this fabulous craft, and start treating it like I really intend other people to read it some day. This year is The Year of Writing Dangerously.
Annoyingly, I am something of an optimist and normally reluctant to judge a year based on perhaps the last six months or so; if that were not the case, I would merrily tell 2009 to take a running jump off a prickly cliff. But I’m always looking for the silver lining in the dark clouds (or the smarties in the dog turd) so I shy away from condemning it completely. It’s time to look, perhaps, at what I hoped to do in 2009 and what I actually did, as awkward and slightly embarrassing as it may be:
By the end of this year I wanted to have finished Bad Apple Bone, written an entirely new novel, and a novella during November (which would also be finished).
What I actually did: Well, I did finish Bad Apple Bone (when was that? May? I think it may even have been on Star Wars day…), which was a major achievement I suppose, after two years writing the bugger. It was my first book, and my first real attempt at writing anything, and remains the truest thing I have written, I think.
I did start writing an entirely new book, A Boy of Blood and Clay, and even got 61,000 words into it, but made the rather silly error of mistaking research for planning, and found myself halfway through the book with only the slightest inkling of what was happening. Plus, I really loathed one of the main characters, and wanted to kill her off. Except she was already dead. Oh.
So that book remains at rest currently, “composting” as my favourite art tutor would put it. And the NaNoWriMo novella? Well that little bugger turned into an actual full length book, full of dirt and ooze and I’m-Not-Even-Sure-What-Happens-Next mystery, which made it brilliant fun to write, even as it grows in scope by the minute and I have no chance of finishing it this year.
In conclusion then, I have one finished novel, and two unfinished full length books; not exactly where I wanted to be, but, I have to look the bright side (or the Skittles in the dog plop); this year I have written, not including finishing Bad Apple Bone or any short stories that popped into existence, around 120,000 words. And I can’t really complain about that.
2010 will be the year I learn to give up my time properly to this fabulous craft, and start treating it like I really intend other people to read it some day. This year is The Year of Writing Dangerously.
Monday, 7 December 2009
On winning NaNoWriMo and then failing for a bit.
I did it!
Which you probably all know by now. It's been a week after all, and goodness know I think I posted about it pretty much everywhere when I finished. I actually got to 50,000 words on the Sunday, mainly because I didn't want to leave the vital last couple of thousand words for the last couple of hours and partly because we were going out on Monday night. There was much rejoicing, and like last year, a sense of extreme tiredness.
As I predicted, Ink for Thieves isn't anywhere near actually being finished, and is in fact only about halfway through. This is okay. It turned out that the story had a direction it wanted to go in and I was unable to stop it, or even steer it vaguely back onto the path I had originally expected. I think most writers will recognise this lack of control; normally it means things are going well, believe it or not.
In a similar vein, a friend of mine has been ribbing me lately on my choice of name for my main character, Guido Foss. He rightly pointed out that a) it's a man's name, b) it's a bit silly, and c) it's slang for a thug in certain parts of the world. This is all true, and I've no idea where the name really came from (unless it's because that was my favourite Samurai Pizza Cat). It came to me randomly one day and stuck, even though I knew the main character was female, and the truth of the matter is... I've no more control over what the character is called than I have over where the story is going- I'm currently writing a very long section, for example, that I had no inkling was in the book at all when I started it. As often with these things, I was still considering whether or not I should include it at all when I realised I was already writing the bloody thing! Stories are sneaky like that.
Guido Foss is now Guido Foss to me, no matter how ludicrous the name. At 50,000 words in, I just can't change stuff that is so established, because in the end, the important thing is that I get the story out; the bumps and kinks in the road can be sorted out later. NaNoWriMo creates an odd situation really, because it encourages you to put up pieces of your writing while you're still working on them, and normally during the writing process you wouldn't do that.
In short, I'm following the story where it will take me, whether that means silly names or unexpected diversions in the desert. The polishing comes later. :)
Which you probably all know by now. It's been a week after all, and goodness know I think I posted about it pretty much everywhere when I finished. I actually got to 50,000 words on the Sunday, mainly because I didn't want to leave the vital last couple of thousand words for the last couple of hours and partly because we were going out on Monday night. There was much rejoicing, and like last year, a sense of extreme tiredness.
As I predicted, Ink for Thieves isn't anywhere near actually being finished, and is in fact only about halfway through. This is okay. It turned out that the story had a direction it wanted to go in and I was unable to stop it, or even steer it vaguely back onto the path I had originally expected. I think most writers will recognise this lack of control; normally it means things are going well, believe it or not.
In a similar vein, a friend of mine has been ribbing me lately on my choice of name for my main character, Guido Foss. He rightly pointed out that a) it's a man's name, b) it's a bit silly, and c) it's slang for a thug in certain parts of the world. This is all true, and I've no idea where the name really came from (unless it's because that was my favourite Samurai Pizza Cat). It came to me randomly one day and stuck, even though I knew the main character was female, and the truth of the matter is... I've no more control over what the character is called than I have over where the story is going- I'm currently writing a very long section, for example, that I had no inkling was in the book at all when I started it. As often with these things, I was still considering whether or not I should include it at all when I realised I was already writing the bloody thing! Stories are sneaky like that.
Guido Foss is now Guido Foss to me, no matter how ludicrous the name. At 50,000 words in, I just can't change stuff that is so established, because in the end, the important thing is that I get the story out; the bumps and kinks in the road can be sorted out later. NaNoWriMo creates an odd situation really, because it encourages you to put up pieces of your writing while you're still working on them, and normally during the writing process you wouldn't do that.
In short, I'm following the story where it will take me, whether that means silly names or unexpected diversions in the desert. The polishing comes later. :)
Sunday, 22 November 2009
"Stab them in the face!"
And indeed, the rest of November went as quickly as the first week!
Much to my own surprise, I am still on schedule with NaNoWriMo; up to 37,000 words today, and I'm hoping to squeeze in a bit more later too, so I can go into this week slightly ahead (exciting social things happening on Thursday, and then a day off for a hangover on Friday). I did mean to update the blog around about halfway through, but free time shrinks down to miniscule status during November, and every time I found space to write the thing, it was about 1am. So as a short round up, here are some things I have learnt so far this month:
It is perfectly possible to write 2,000 words a day. Yep. It's just that I have to put the time aside for it. Part of where I was going wrong with A Boy of Blood and Clay was that I was trying to fit the writing time around other things, so I would only get a few hundred words out here and there. I wasn't dedicating a chunk of time to it, but rather writing it in between other commitments. What this left me with was a story that was stilted, choppy and very difficult to get back into each day.
It's difficult, because the only time I have is in the evenings, and what I really like to do in the evening is read, have a snuggle with my bloke, and fart about on the internet. The fact remains though, if I want to get these books finished, I have to write everyday, and I have to write a decent amount.
I've also learnt that Ink for Thieves has a life of its own, and my chances of actually finishing the story at 50,000 words are very slim indeed. I have now accepted the fact that I'll be working on it into the next month, and have a new vague sort of deadline of the 13th December. This is the end of my week off in December, and I'm hoping to get a lot done (in between the hideousness of christmas shopping, of course. Argh)
And now it's time for a gravy dinner. :) Guido Foss waits for me, covered in bug juices and about to discover that the Embers have even more unpleasant surprises for her.
ps) I put an extract of the novel up on my NaNo profile (it's under Novel Info). It's very rough of course, but it was a passage that made me laugh, and I think you should only put up extracts that don't give too much away.
Much to my own surprise, I am still on schedule with NaNoWriMo; up to 37,000 words today, and I'm hoping to squeeze in a bit more later too, so I can go into this week slightly ahead (exciting social things happening on Thursday, and then a day off for a hangover on Friday). I did mean to update the blog around about halfway through, but free time shrinks down to miniscule status during November, and every time I found space to write the thing, it was about 1am. So as a short round up, here are some things I have learnt so far this month:
It is perfectly possible to write 2,000 words a day. Yep. It's just that I have to put the time aside for it. Part of where I was going wrong with A Boy of Blood and Clay was that I was trying to fit the writing time around other things, so I would only get a few hundred words out here and there. I wasn't dedicating a chunk of time to it, but rather writing it in between other commitments. What this left me with was a story that was stilted, choppy and very difficult to get back into each day.
It's difficult, because the only time I have is in the evenings, and what I really like to do in the evening is read, have a snuggle with my bloke, and fart about on the internet. The fact remains though, if I want to get these books finished, I have to write everyday, and I have to write a decent amount.
I've also learnt that Ink for Thieves has a life of its own, and my chances of actually finishing the story at 50,000 words are very slim indeed. I have now accepted the fact that I'll be working on it into the next month, and have a new vague sort of deadline of the 13th December. This is the end of my week off in December, and I'm hoping to get a lot done (in between the hideousness of christmas shopping, of course. Argh)
And now it's time for a gravy dinner. :) Guido Foss waits for me, covered in bug juices and about to discover that the Embers have even more unpleasant surprises for her.
ps) I put an extract of the novel up on my NaNo profile (it's under Novel Info). It's very rough of course, but it was a passage that made me laugh, and I think you should only put up extracts that don't give too much away.
Sunday, 8 November 2009
The First Week of November
...has sort of zipped by, don't you think?
It's one of the weird things about NaNoWriMo; it makes November both the longest and shortest month of the year. On the one hand I've still got a ridiculously large number of words to squeeze out of my head, but on the other it feel like only yesterday that I was tidying up my writing space for the kick off. A quick run down of how things are going:
Heating fail. In a great example of the fabulous timing of Sod's Law, our central heating packed up at the beginning of the week, leaving us slowing freezing in our drafty old victorian terrace. It's amazing really how depressing it can get, being cold all day. I survived by buying new hot waterbottles and keeping mine tucked down the front of my dressing gown while I typed. On Friday, the Boiler Magicians came and sorted it out.
Word count win! So far this year, the writing has been fun, and it has been reflected in my word count. As of tonight I'm at 17,222 words, approximately two days ahead of where I need to be. This is good because this upcoming week contains at least two days when I suspect getting anything done will be difficult.
I'm enjoying the story and I'm beginning to wonder if this is a full length book rather than a novella. :s It's always difficult to decide this; ideally, I'd like to have finished this story by the end of the month, so I can get on with a) finishing A Boy of Blood and Clay, b) editing Bad Apple Bone or the rogue c) option, starting another book. ;) But if I'm really getting somewhere with the story, perhaps I should consider continuing into December. Hmm, it's all about the pacing...
I have been surprised by the cynicism of some people. It's not a huge deal, as most people seem to "get" NaNoWriMo and what it's all about, but there does seem to be a little flicker among some who seem to think it's a bit silly and deserves a bit of mockery. My initial response to such people would be "Come back and take the piss when you've written a book in 30 days, dude. Or anything longer than your facebook status update". But I have been good, and ignored any such comments. It's my folly and I love it.
And that's where I am at the moment. :) Guido Foss has made it to the Flats, and is about to find out just how unpleasant life can be out in the desert. I shall enjoy making it difficult for her.
It's one of the weird things about NaNoWriMo; it makes November both the longest and shortest month of the year. On the one hand I've still got a ridiculously large number of words to squeeze out of my head, but on the other it feel like only yesterday that I was tidying up my writing space for the kick off. A quick run down of how things are going:
Heating fail. In a great example of the fabulous timing of Sod's Law, our central heating packed up at the beginning of the week, leaving us slowing freezing in our drafty old victorian terrace. It's amazing really how depressing it can get, being cold all day. I survived by buying new hot waterbottles and keeping mine tucked down the front of my dressing gown while I typed. On Friday, the Boiler Magicians came and sorted it out.
Word count win! So far this year, the writing has been fun, and it has been reflected in my word count. As of tonight I'm at 17,222 words, approximately two days ahead of where I need to be. This is good because this upcoming week contains at least two days when I suspect getting anything done will be difficult.
I'm enjoying the story and I'm beginning to wonder if this is a full length book rather than a novella. :s It's always difficult to decide this; ideally, I'd like to have finished this story by the end of the month, so I can get on with a) finishing A Boy of Blood and Clay, b) editing Bad Apple Bone or the rogue c) option, starting another book. ;) But if I'm really getting somewhere with the story, perhaps I should consider continuing into December. Hmm, it's all about the pacing...
I have been surprised by the cynicism of some people. It's not a huge deal, as most people seem to "get" NaNoWriMo and what it's all about, but there does seem to be a little flicker among some who seem to think it's a bit silly and deserves a bit of mockery. My initial response to such people would be "Come back and take the piss when you've written a book in 30 days, dude. Or anything longer than your facebook status update". But I have been good, and ignored any such comments. It's my folly and I love it.
And that's where I am at the moment. :) Guido Foss has made it to the Flats, and is about to find out just how unpleasant life can be out in the desert. I shall enjoy making it difficult for her.
Saturday, 31 October 2009
The Writing Space
This is the place where I will be doing much of my grimacing at the laptop over November. Items of note; Charlie the Nano Pony- my Nano mascot, pile of sweets and Thorntons chocolate for rewards/sugar fuel, Nano calendar on the wall to the right, small stack of notebooks from previous books to remind myself that I can write, moomin mousepad (I don't have a mouse, but it is very cool) and various postcards of interesting stuff.To be honest, I don't really subsribe to the Writing Space idea. Someone once wrote (can't remember who) that writing often had to be done around the edges of life; much of my writing is done on the fly, in notebooks or down the pub or on the bus. Having a special space for it is lovely (and I have spent many minutes admiring my little desk and it's collection of pleasing objects) but life doesn't always give you the time to go and sit in it.
Still, for NaNoWriMo having a desk to write at is all part of the fun, and I'm looking forward to starting- not long now! :)
Sunday, 18 October 2009
Where I am now...
I am better than I was.
As some of you might know, I've had a shitty few months. Ongoing problems with a tooth, a chest infection that may or may not have been swine flu, an unusable bathroom for weeks, and very sadly my Nan passed away.
I suppose that sometimes strife doesn't line up in an orderly queue, sometimes it just shouts "BUNDLE!" and lets rip. The good news is, I feel like I have, to some extent, come out of the other side now. Although my chest is still a little weak and I have a very sensitive gag reflex now, I'm over the mystery flu. We now have a bathroom with an actual door and sink (you don't realise how important a toilet door is until you don't have one for weeks). We've had my Nan's funeral, which was as difficult and painful as you would expect, and there will be more pain to come as the house where I grew up in is emptied of all the things that made it home, and is sold; but you take the memories that you can and you soldier on, always the walking wounded.
The tooth that was lingering on has been removed. Hoo-fucking-ray! The horrible thing about that was the waiting for the appointment; even when I was feeling myself again, and relatively happy, always at the back of my mind was the tooth problem, sucking away any ability to relax. Now it's sorted, it is genuinely like a black cloud has stopped hanging over my head, and has gone off to bother Charlie Brown or Calvin or someone.
So I am better than I was. :) A side effect of the crap of the last few months has been that my writing has taken a serious knock. I can't concentrate when I'm anxious, and a number of problems with A Boy of Blood and Clay that I had been trying to write around suddenly became insurmountable, and I lost my way with the book. Shitsticks. I forced myself to write for a while, and stopped again when I realised I was hating it, hating the characters, and hating the story. The problem is longwinded, but the short version is this; with Bad Apple Bone, I had the main character in my head for some time, years even, before I started writing. I might not have known the plot, but I had a good idea of what Noon was like. With A Boy of Blood and Clay, I did the briefest of outlines and character sketches, and then threw myself into it, assuming I'd be able to make it up as I went; after all, it had worked with the last book.
It turns out, that was a slightly silly idea.
So I've put A Boy of Blood and Clay to one side for a while. I don't know the characters well enough, and it needs a hell of a lot more research before I can get the story into the shape I wanted in the first place. I'll come back to it (if only because I've written 63,000 words of the bugger already!) and Mike and Faye and Gushel and the terrible Eustace Cream will certainly get an end to their stories one day.
In other news, NaNoWriMo is two weeks away! I had a great time last year writing Bird and Tower, and I can't wait to do it all again- this time with more planning and research, obviously. ;) More about that on the next blog post.
As some of you might know, I've had a shitty few months. Ongoing problems with a tooth, a chest infection that may or may not have been swine flu, an unusable bathroom for weeks, and very sadly my Nan passed away.
I suppose that sometimes strife doesn't line up in an orderly queue, sometimes it just shouts "BUNDLE!" and lets rip. The good news is, I feel like I have, to some extent, come out of the other side now. Although my chest is still a little weak and I have a very sensitive gag reflex now, I'm over the mystery flu. We now have a bathroom with an actual door and sink (you don't realise how important a toilet door is until you don't have one for weeks). We've had my Nan's funeral, which was as difficult and painful as you would expect, and there will be more pain to come as the house where I grew up in is emptied of all the things that made it home, and is sold; but you take the memories that you can and you soldier on, always the walking wounded.
The tooth that was lingering on has been removed. Hoo-fucking-ray! The horrible thing about that was the waiting for the appointment; even when I was feeling myself again, and relatively happy, always at the back of my mind was the tooth problem, sucking away any ability to relax. Now it's sorted, it is genuinely like a black cloud has stopped hanging over my head, and has gone off to bother Charlie Brown or Calvin or someone.
So I am better than I was. :) A side effect of the crap of the last few months has been that my writing has taken a serious knock. I can't concentrate when I'm anxious, and a number of problems with A Boy of Blood and Clay that I had been trying to write around suddenly became insurmountable, and I lost my way with the book. Shitsticks. I forced myself to write for a while, and stopped again when I realised I was hating it, hating the characters, and hating the story. The problem is longwinded, but the short version is this; with Bad Apple Bone, I had the main character in my head for some time, years even, before I started writing. I might not have known the plot, but I had a good idea of what Noon was like. With A Boy of Blood and Clay, I did the briefest of outlines and character sketches, and then threw myself into it, assuming I'd be able to make it up as I went; after all, it had worked with the last book.
It turns out, that was a slightly silly idea.
So I've put A Boy of Blood and Clay to one side for a while. I don't know the characters well enough, and it needs a hell of a lot more research before I can get the story into the shape I wanted in the first place. I'll come back to it (if only because I've written 63,000 words of the bugger already!) and Mike and Faye and Gushel and the terrible Eustace Cream will certainly get an end to their stories one day.
In other news, NaNoWriMo is two weeks away! I had a great time last year writing Bird and Tower, and I can't wait to do it all again- this time with more planning and research, obviously. ;) More about that on the next blog post.
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