Blogging once a week should be pretty easy, or at least that’s what I thought when I decided recently that my blog needed a good kick up the bum. I had read in various places that writers should blog, and as often as possible, and it sounded like a good plan. Some suggested updating every day, but that seems, quite frankly, a bit unhinged. If you are a jet setting author with a mind-crushingly glamorous and exciting life, and the ability to get more done in one day than any human person, like Neil Gaiman for example, no doubt this makes sense. But I’ve no clue what I’d begin to tell you about if I were writing this every day. I think, to be quite honest, I’d bore myself. However, as it is time for my weekly blog (now sounding like a bowel movement of some kind) and I have absolutely no clue what to talk about, I shall regale you with the sort of inconsequential details I might tell you if I were writing everyday:
Our floorboards are being ripped up. Yes, when I get home, I expect to have to employ some stilts or the Force to propel myself around the flat. The alarmingly manky carpet has gone, along with its red wine and birthing fluid stains (yes, really) and supposedly something else will be taking it’s place. Not sure what.
I’m reading Magician by Raymond E. Feist. I am enjoying it very much, even if it is a dramatic change of tone from the Song of Ice and Fire series. I keep expecting people to be sleeping with their sisters and pushing people out of windows, but everyone in Magician is much too nice.
We finished watching Supernatural series one, alas. I have decided it is a Series Worth Following, and I’m particularly fond of the central relationship between Sam, Dean and Daddy Winchester. It is ever so manly and angsty.
The new book is puttering along, just starting to form into a proper story with a beginning, middle and end; as long as I don’t look at it directly or anything. In fact, I find if I turn my head to one side and squint at it with one eye shut, it appears to have vampires, witches, zombies AND pirates in it. This amuses me.
That’s it for now. Tomorrow I shall update you with whether or not that milk we bought at the weekend will last for the evening’s tea, and if I’ve managed to buy a new pair of jeans.
Tuesday, 16 March 2010
Tuesday, 9 March 2010
The Joy of Big Fat Books
I’m feeling vaguely accomplished today for two reasons, and as this doesn’t happen very often I will dwell on it a bit (I think it was Alan Bennett who once said something about how writers never feel like writers unless they’re physically writing; the rest of the time they feel like frauds).
I have the first draft of Bad Apple Bone sitting in front of me, in glorious chunky paper form. It’s the first time I’ve seen it printed out, and it looks ginormous. It’s lovely, to feel the heft of it, to see all those words collected together in one place, and to flick through to read random bits; grimacing at some, laughing at others. There will be lots of problems with it, because I started writing the book without any idea what I was doing, or indeed any idea I was writing a book, and no doubt I’ll have made lots of terrible, first-time-writer mistakes, but I think I’m going to enjoying reading it again nonetheless.
Secondly, after four mouths and a scattering of days, I have finished the rough draft of Ink for Thieves. I struggled over the line at the weekend, so toasts were made and Snoopy dances were danced, and I saw my characters off into the sunset with a tear in my eye.
It’s been an interesting experience, this one. It started as a novella for NaNoWriMo, but grew quickly into a larger book within the first week of writing, and I realised this one had a bigger story to tell. Coming just after a bit of a cock up with A Boy of Blood and Clay, which fatally stalled at 63,000 words, it was a relief to know I could still do big stories. Around about halfway through a minor tangent turned into a major story arc, and by and large, Ink for Thieves was a joy to write. It certainly had it’s difficult moments, particularly when I realised I was three quarters of the way through and still had no real idea how the Big Bad was going to be resolved, or getting too bogged down in the detail of a city that only appeared in the first chapter, but for the most part I had a lot of fun. The characters really did have a life of their own this time round, and I was amazed (and slightly annoyed) that I could not put any of them in a situation together without there being a blazing argument; their actions often surprised me, and showed me parts of the story I hadn’t been aware of. Following where the characters lead has been an interesting journey, almost as interesting as Guido’s dangerous and frantic journey across the Embers.
I have the first draft of Bad Apple Bone sitting in front of me, in glorious chunky paper form. It’s the first time I’ve seen it printed out, and it looks ginormous. It’s lovely, to feel the heft of it, to see all those words collected together in one place, and to flick through to read random bits; grimacing at some, laughing at others. There will be lots of problems with it, because I started writing the book without any idea what I was doing, or indeed any idea I was writing a book, and no doubt I’ll have made lots of terrible, first-time-writer mistakes, but I think I’m going to enjoying reading it again nonetheless.
Secondly, after four mouths and a scattering of days, I have finished the rough draft of Ink for Thieves. I struggled over the line at the weekend, so toasts were made and Snoopy dances were danced, and I saw my characters off into the sunset with a tear in my eye.
It’s been an interesting experience, this one. It started as a novella for NaNoWriMo, but grew quickly into a larger book within the first week of writing, and I realised this one had a bigger story to tell. Coming just after a bit of a cock up with A Boy of Blood and Clay, which fatally stalled at 63,000 words, it was a relief to know I could still do big stories. Around about halfway through a minor tangent turned into a major story arc, and by and large, Ink for Thieves was a joy to write. It certainly had it’s difficult moments, particularly when I realised I was three quarters of the way through and still had no real idea how the Big Bad was going to be resolved, or getting too bogged down in the detail of a city that only appeared in the first chapter, but for the most part I had a lot of fun. The characters really did have a life of their own this time round, and I was amazed (and slightly annoyed) that I could not put any of them in a situation together without there being a blazing argument; their actions often surprised me, and showed me parts of the story I hadn’t been aware of. Following where the characters lead has been an interesting journey, almost as interesting as Guido’s dangerous and frantic journey across the Embers.
Tuesday, 2 March 2010
Supernatural and the Baywatch Effect
(Note on spoilers- teeny spoilers if you've never seen any Supernatural. Also, if you have seen all of it, please bear in mind that I haven't, so no spoilers for me please. No spoilers for Baywatch, unless you are unaware of the boobie content ;p)
My lovely boyfriend kindly bought me series 1 of Supernatural on dvd for my birthday. It’s a series I’ve been keen to catch up with, having been tantalized by all manner of bizarre confessions on Fandom Secrets and the tiny bits of it I’d managed to see on ITV 2 or 3 or whatever it was (never on at a reasonable or regular time, it seemed). We’re currently slap bang in the middle of the first series, where the intrigue and clues over the main story arc are coming thick and fast.
I am enjoying it very much. As Marty has said, it’s a bit of a Monster of the Week show, but that was when I enjoyed the X-Files the most, and Supernatural certainly owes a lot to Mulder and Scully (aside from the references to the show, of course- Cigerette Smoking Man was in the last episode!). Most episodes follow a pattern; something nasty happens somewhere, Sam and Dean find some tenuous reason to investigate, Dean tells an outrageous lie (that normally backfires) in order to win over the authorities/hot blond woman who is inexplicably involved, the brothers do a bit soul searching, nasty thing is defeated, hot blond woman inexplicably fails to get off with either brother, brothers do a bit more rueful bonding. Nothing wrong with any of that, quite frankly.
I like Dean the best, closely followed by the car, closely followed by the dad, and then Sam sneaks in there somewhere with his Kevin Bacon nose. I like the references to geeky things, and the hints at a dark being manipulating the events from afar, and the likeable and chemistry laden bromance at the heart of it all (sadly, I don’t believe they’re sleeping with each other, despite all the support at Fandom Secrets). One thing I did notice is that Supernatural appears, so far, to be subject to the Baywatch Effect.
The vast majority of women in the Supernatural universe are leggy and blond, with long flowing tresses. They are all kind of interchangeable, but that’s almost fair enough; the show already has two very pretty male leads, so they have to balance things out with some eye candy for the boys, no doubt. This is so prevalent though, that as soon as a woman with short hair turns up, you know instantly that they will either be dead in the next ten minutes, or reveal themselves to be evil.
I call this the Baywatch Effect, because Baywatch sort of had the same deal. I was watching Baywatch one afternoon (you’re totally allowed to watch it ironically, especially if you’re a girl) and I noted the female character with short hair and a flat chest. I joked at the time that she was clearly going to cop it before the end of the episode- how could she survive amongst the mountainous boobies and cascading golden hair that the camera was much more interested in filming? To my own slight surprise, she did indeed die in the following thirty minutes, and big bossomed ladies mourned her loss (at least she wasn’t evil).
The last episode of Supernatural featured two young women with short hair. The first, who had a dark bob rather like my own, died horribly in the first ten minutes, and the second, who had a blond pixie cut, was evil- I called both of them, thanks to the Baywatch Effect.
This isn’t a criticism of the show at all, and I’ve certainly not seen enough of it to say whether the Baywatch Effect will last throughout its entire run. I live in hope that a lady with short, funky hair and possibly even piercings of some kind will reveal herself to be super capable of running away from the monsters, or even better, kicking them in the face and running away. We shall see.
My lovely boyfriend kindly bought me series 1 of Supernatural on dvd for my birthday. It’s a series I’ve been keen to catch up with, having been tantalized by all manner of bizarre confessions on Fandom Secrets and the tiny bits of it I’d managed to see on ITV 2 or 3 or whatever it was (never on at a reasonable or regular time, it seemed). We’re currently slap bang in the middle of the first series, where the intrigue and clues over the main story arc are coming thick and fast.
I am enjoying it very much. As Marty has said, it’s a bit of a Monster of the Week show, but that was when I enjoyed the X-Files the most, and Supernatural certainly owes a lot to Mulder and Scully (aside from the references to the show, of course- Cigerette Smoking Man was in the last episode!). Most episodes follow a pattern; something nasty happens somewhere, Sam and Dean find some tenuous reason to investigate, Dean tells an outrageous lie (that normally backfires) in order to win over the authorities/hot blond woman who is inexplicably involved, the brothers do a bit soul searching, nasty thing is defeated, hot blond woman inexplicably fails to get off with either brother, brothers do a bit more rueful bonding. Nothing wrong with any of that, quite frankly.
I like Dean the best, closely followed by the car, closely followed by the dad, and then Sam sneaks in there somewhere with his Kevin Bacon nose. I like the references to geeky things, and the hints at a dark being manipulating the events from afar, and the likeable and chemistry laden bromance at the heart of it all (sadly, I don’t believe they’re sleeping with each other, despite all the support at Fandom Secrets). One thing I did notice is that Supernatural appears, so far, to be subject to the Baywatch Effect.
The vast majority of women in the Supernatural universe are leggy and blond, with long flowing tresses. They are all kind of interchangeable, but that’s almost fair enough; the show already has two very pretty male leads, so they have to balance things out with some eye candy for the boys, no doubt. This is so prevalent though, that as soon as a woman with short hair turns up, you know instantly that they will either be dead in the next ten minutes, or reveal themselves to be evil.
I call this the Baywatch Effect, because Baywatch sort of had the same deal. I was watching Baywatch one afternoon (you’re totally allowed to watch it ironically, especially if you’re a girl) and I noted the female character with short hair and a flat chest. I joked at the time that she was clearly going to cop it before the end of the episode- how could she survive amongst the mountainous boobies and cascading golden hair that the camera was much more interested in filming? To my own slight surprise, she did indeed die in the following thirty minutes, and big bossomed ladies mourned her loss (at least she wasn’t evil).
The last episode of Supernatural featured two young women with short hair. The first, who had a dark bob rather like my own, died horribly in the first ten minutes, and the second, who had a blond pixie cut, was evil- I called both of them, thanks to the Baywatch Effect.
This isn’t a criticism of the show at all, and I’ve certainly not seen enough of it to say whether the Baywatch Effect will last throughout its entire run. I live in hope that a lady with short, funky hair and possibly even piercings of some kind will reveal herself to be super capable of running away from the monsters, or even better, kicking them in the face and running away. We shall see.
Tuesday, 23 February 2010
On Advice
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.
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, 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.
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