A Case for Writing by Hand

•April 28, 2013 • Leave a Comment

Writing1

I’ve experimented with myriad writing devices, methods of backing up writing, and modes to visualize writing-in-progress. I haven’t tried them all, but my education is thorough enough to be called “well-rounded.” I’ve found, to great enthusiasm, that my preferred method is old timey pen and paper. I’m not going to argue that everyone adopts this system, but I’ll talk about why I find it effective.

1)      I’m Weak

When I access a Word document, the first thing I see is the opening line of my manuscript. This is already a devastating setback. The opening line is going to be what sells this book—to a publisher, to consumers, to the world. I could labor over that idea for hours without getting any writing done. At any stage of a project, I will dwell on the opening paragraph like an addict tying off their arm and saying, “Okay, but this is the last time.”

Writing2

The most important thing in the world is the quest to fill another blank page. I can’t do that if I’m backpedaling to edit the work of yesterday, or of last week.

2)      Page Real Estate

Speaking of editing, there’s only so much of it I can do on a legal pad. If I cross out a line in the middle of a paragraph, I can only replace it in the margins, or in the rapier-thin space above its predecessor. Then I have to move forward. There is physically no other option.

3)      Self-Reflection

Writing3

Since my ability to edit is limited, I find myself engaging in a constant mental dialogue with the Me who will, one day, revisit and rewrite the draft. If I use a word that I know is better employed elsewhere, a certain amount of soul-searching takes place where I think, “I’ll definitely see that and know what to do with it next time around,” versus “Maybe I’ll add a note in the margins about how to fix this later.” I think this demands a level of self-awareness that might not be available to me, were I simply able to hit Backspace and forgive all sins.

4)      One Draft, One Location

There was a brief, chaotic period where I worked on a project using: 1) an AlphaSmart, 2) an iPad, and 3) a PC, which depended entirely on my geography at the time. This is a terrible idea. There are effective ways of backing up writing using Dropbox or email. However, keeping track of the most recent draft, or exchanging file formats between devices, can be devastating to the productivity I’m supposed to be practicing.

Disclaimer

This method is reserved for first draft material only. My current project doesn’t resemble a “story” as much as dog vomit, which is all I expect of it for now.

Writing4

Of course I intend on committing the book to .doc format once the first draft is done. For this reason, I’ve retained an ancient disc that houses Microsoft Word 2003, the last Word program to make sense. This disc will be an asset included in my Last Will and Testament, along with my copies of Windows 7 and Wild Arms 2.

To my mind, the pen and paper process is perfection. There is one flaw that will hold millions of people from adopting it: What happens when a dragon attacks Los Angeles and burns down my apartment—and my book with it?

I’ll just have to write faster than the dragon.

Review – Bioshock: Infinite

•April 10, 2013 • Leave a Comment

Bioshock

 

SparkNotes published my write-up on the recently released Bioshock: Infinite :-)

This was a heck of a game that made a significant impact — emotionally, visually, creatively. My spoiler-free review explores some of the features that made it an excellent and rewarding experience.

You can find it HERE!

A Writer Needs Our Help

•April 6, 2013 • 1 Comment

Zack

When I attended grad school, it was an eye-opener on a startling fact: I didn’t know jack shit about the writing business.

I listened to my peers, my faculty, and gleaned what tidbits of information I could. David Anthony Durham gave some excellent advice about keeping foreign rights. I caught Jim Kelly in the middle of a conversation saying: “Night Shade Books? Uh oh. I heard they don’t pay their authors.” I filed away that piece of intelligence. Even though I had no foundation of knowledge to defend or reject it, that was the sort of detail that I couldn’t let go in good faith. Night Shade was a no-no.

A couple of years later, I learned that my dear friend Zachary Jernigan was publishing his first book through Night Shade. I felt an initial shock of recognition on his behalf, which was quickly eclipsed by hope and good wishes. I want Zack to succeed. I wanted Night Shade to be better to him than it supposedly had to others. And as I wrote in my recent review, Zack’s flagship book No Return is legitimately fantastic, and deserves the best treatment and representation it could get.

The Internet has been buzzing over the last two days: Night Shade is going out of business. Their assets are being sold to a publisher that doesn’t handle speculative fiction. Night Shade’s authors have limited options available to them, and this is my understanding of the scenario.

1) Accept a boilerplate (see: cheap) contract from the new publisher. A certain number of authors need to accept these terms in order for the buyout to succeed.

2) I actually have no idea what the alternative is. I know that some established authors are refusing the terms, but I don’t know what happens to their contracts or their books.

What I do know is that, if Night Shade fails to navigate this buyout and ends in bankruptcy, then Zack’s first novel is going to spend several years in unpublished pandemonium before it has a chance to succeed. That shit makes me want to never stop vomiting.

My previous review was a strong recommendation to read No Return. Now it’s turned into a plea on behalf of a good man and an excellent writer (In truth, Zack is a bastard, but he’s my bastard). Read his book because it’s worthy of your attention. Buy it because you’ll be helping one of the best new writers in the genre get a leg up on a sinking ship. It would break my black heart to see Zack’s book smothered by the industry its attempting to enrich.

Check out Zack’s blog, check out his book, and pray to the Man Jesus that the rest of us find better homes in the welcoming world of publication.

 

How Fiction Works, and Why I’m Writing It (v1.0)

•April 3, 2013 • 2 Comments

I recently attended a reading and signing of Her, by Christa Parravani. This is a memoir about an identical twin (Christa) who lost her sister and spiraled into an odyssey of identity crisis and addiction. I treat nonfiction like cough medicine: I take a tablespoon of it every few months, choke it down, and grudgingly admit I’m a little better for the experience. It’s definitely worth a glance. Christa’s website is also much classier than mine, with a video and everything.

http://www.christaparravani.com/

After the reading, a Q&A ensued. The author fielded questions about finding her way through grief and healing, but my interest was piqued when no one asked about her writing process. Why else were we there? Most of the audience members gravitated toward nonfiction as a means of dealing with misfortune. Perhaps this wasn’t the most fertile ground for a fiction writer who dreams of dirigibles and electric sheep.

Then I asked Christa about what intentions she brought to bear when she sat down to write. Did she prioritize getting the story on paper, or was there something in the craft of the delivery that she wanted to explore? She was approaching writing from such a different angle that it made me wonder about what exactly I aim to achieve when I put pen to paper.

So this is me answering my own question.

 

How Fiction Works, and Why I’m Writing It (v1.0)

In order of importance.

First and Foremost: A Setting with Teeth

Columbia

I want my setting to prove as memorable as my characters. This is philosophically sound, but complicated in the execution. How do I achieve it? I see a couple of different, broad approaches.

a) the Subjective setting

A character’s point of view determines the emotional and psychic character of a setting. Is the setting warm and welcoming, claustrophobic, competitive, virtuous, degraded? The character’s experience of the story will define the reader’s experience of it, so care and intention must be observed.

Useful examples include Harry Potter, Ender’s Game, and The Hungry City Chronicles. I think that young adult novels focus on this method because child characters are often dropped into settings driven by anxiety and confusion. A child’s ability to navigate unfriendly terrain is also used as a sign of their progression and maturity.

b) the Objective setting

No matter what a character thinks, the setting can exist as its own distinct entity. Its true character is often unknowable, which hints of age, mystery, or danger on a primal level.

Useful examples include: Mythago Wood, Perdido Street Station, House of Leaves, City of Saints and Madmen. I find that this approach tends to challenge the reader. Books that adopt this method are steeped in the traditions of Gothic novelists and horror writers like H.P. Lovecraft, who recognized that mankind’s ability to control his environment is grossly overestimated. The setting is too big and scary for a character to even know its true name.

Neil Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book does an excellent job of adopting both of these practices. Anyone with one good eye and a big heart will adore that story and its execution.

Second: A Calculated Point of View

I think that some novelists are thoughtless when it comes to point of view. This is a bias on my part, but hear me out.

I hesitate to use a First Person point of view, except in the following instances:

-          Memoir

-          Unreliable narrator

-          Radio drama

-          The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn

-          All of the above

(plus whatever I add to v1.2)

The Third Person perspective is a gift. We’ve managed to craft it into something every bit as intimate as First Person—if not more so. In Third Person, the reader still gets to experience the inner conflicts, the things unsaid, the hope, the longing, the desire, the despair. The experiences come in real time. We get to see a character’s relationship between thought and action. Best of all: the writing never suffers.

Too often, the only “gimmick” of First Person is that the writer gets to kick off their boots and adopt a colloquial tone, like dictating to an old friend. My problem is when the writing reads as lazy, as if the author didn’t want to burn the calories to write a book in the first place. Let the rain of pitchforks commence.

I always posed this question in workshops: What did using First Person lend to this piece that Third Person would have denied? If the answer is “Nothing,” then I can but open my palms to an empty room, wondering why anyone would write in First Person if they weren’t putting any of its fringe benefits to good use. That’s like picking up a hammer to do the job of an Allen wrench. Bring the right tools for the right contexts.

Drood, The Egyptologist, and Home Land are stories that know what they’re doing. Read Notes from Underground, or anything by Robert Coover. Ironically, First Person is best employed when its goal is to drop a level of distrust between the reader and the narrator. Never trust anyone who writes about themselves.

 

So that’s the beginning of my treatise on How Fiction Works. I’m going to add a separate link on the side of my blog containing these ramblings, and update them as time goes on. You never know, I’ll probably change my mind. 

Thanks for reading!

I Turned Down a Job, and I Feel Fine

•March 2, 2013 • Leave a Comment

Thumbs Up

I did two impossible things today: I turned down a job offer, and I felt great about it.

I’ve been in touch with a small company over the past several months. Technically, I’m their freelancer. They’ve offered one writing assignment, and the rest of our professional relationship has been pleasant, if not in any way lucrative  I do everything in my power to stay on their radar because they seem like an excellent team, and I would be fortunate to work alongside them.

The offer was for a clerical job at their headquarters, and the salary was slightly more than half of what I make at my current clerical job at someone else’s headquarters. I turned them down as kindly as possible, full of gratitude and apologies, with hopes that we could make it happen in the future. My contact at the company responded with a phrase that caught my attention like a shooting star:

“Thanks, Paul.

We really love your work and just wanted to be sure we couldn’t afford you.”

As my college adviser would say, let’s unpack that statement.

1) I have “work?”

“Work” is a very grown-up word for someone who screams into shadows (he says, gesturing feebly around the lightless expanse of his blog). “Work” suggests that I might one day have an oeuvre, a saga, a legacy.

2) Someone loves it.

Someone who isn’t either of my parents, or didn’t know me in middle school. What work do they love? My reflections on other peoples’ books? Have they read all of those short stories I couldn’t publish?

3) They couldn’t afford me.

I have a dollar value. In 2007, Barnes & Noble said I was worth around $7.75 an hour, and at the time my Bachelors and I were grateful for every penny of it.

4) They suspected they couldn’t afford me.

This charming person, who doesn’t know me, assumed — on the basis of “work” alone — that my dollar amount was too invaluable for their humble collective.

I don’t know if she read my mind and knew the week I was having, but she saved it. These people are good. If they could pay me in compliments and self-worth, I would die a rich man.

Review: No Return, by Zachary Jernigan

•February 25, 2013 • 2 Comments

No Return

Zachary Jernigan is a friend of mine, but I didn’t know his fiction well enough to assume that his flagship novel would prove a creative success. I’m very pleased to see my suspicions confirmed. This fellow is someone to watch. He’s wicked trending.

I read a chapter of No Return a couple of years back, and at the time I didn’t know what to make of it. There was a god floating in space, brooding as he adjusted a configuration of iron spheres. The narrative lens zoomed down to his planet, onto a culture that traded the body parts of a deceased race. I didn’t see how all the pieces fit together as a harmonious work. How could I? A novel needs to be treated as a singular unit of creative mass, not a collection of chapters to be critiqued individually. Workshops, learn this lesson.

I’m happy to say that I’ve read the whole thing, and you can find it on bookshelves this March. Zack knows that I respect him enough not to pull any punches when I give my retrospective on No Return—just as I expect him to actively campaign against my eventual publication, which is as much attention as it will no doubt deserve.

I’m extremely happy to report that Zack’s novel didn’t just impress me. It humbled me.

The primary characters of No Return come together as unlikely travel companions, journeying across the wasteland to compete in a life or death tournament. Vedas is a battle-priest who lives to despise the space-god, Adrash. Churls is a fighter consumed by self-destruction. Berun is a magically-powered construct, fighting the will of his creator in a tireless quest for free will.

No Return explores human nature on a battleground of emotional and physical repression. When I think back to the time I spent in this book, the first details that come to mind are the heated inner-struggles, the things unsaid, and the self-doubt of emotions that contradict logic. Zack’s portrayal of love and violent sexual repression make me feel as if my writing boasts all the maturity of Pokemon. Anyone who doubts the merit of speculative fiction should read No Return and ask themselves if the mental landscape of Zack’s work is any less resonant than Joyce or Steinbeck. I don’t conjure those great names lightly.

I’m going to be vulgar for a moment. Feel free to skip the bracketed section if you are family or a potential employer.

[I cannot overemphasize the scope of sexual frustration Zack infused in these pages. At times, I wanted to shout into the mouth of the book: “FUCK! EVERYONE FUCK ALREADY! START FUCKING NOW. WHY IS NO ONE FUCKING?” No Return has an extraordinary sense of body-awareness from every possible angle—strength, timidity, misunderstanding, etc. I've never felt deeper under a characters' skin. Even a robot experiences body-shame and a deeply sympathetic sense of his limitations.]

To go further would be to give away plot elements, and I’d love for readers to discover those for themselves. Suffice it to say, No Return is an odyssey of the mind and body. Don’t just read this book. Buy it, and pay Zack to dance for you.

Here’s a link to Zack’s excellent blog, which is far more entertaining than mine.

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

The Alphabet of Harry Potter

•February 13, 2013 • Leave a Comment

book

This might seem less cerebral than my previous post, but it was something to occupy my mind over an afternoon, and you should therefore be subjected to it.

Enjoy! Find it here.

 
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