Y'know, there's something about kids that mean you get introduced to all sorts of things that you never would've been introduced to before.
Like, for example, Rainbow Hello Kitty thong underwear. No, I don't joke. I don't think I could make that up if I tried.
I'm thankful it was just in adult sizes, for women.
I think.
And I don't really like it. Soulmate's done and out, and the first draft of Dirty Basement's off for reading, and now, two stories down in a couple of weeks and... I find I can't write. Not that I don't have things to write (yeah, yeah, I know, poor Rob's been stuck in an airport lounge for months, I have a new novel that's been brewing for a while, Ben and Wiliam would really like their origin story told, and they're also facing zombies. And caught in the middle of a murder mystery) but it's ju
Okay, not you personally (not that there isn't something horribly wrong with you or anything) but your characters.
I've been thinking about that lately, as I've been doodling out the outlines for a new novel with new characters, and poking at existing characters in new stories. What's wrong with them?
It may seem like a strange thing to wonder about, but I was reminded by ABG (Author of the most excellent, though not done, Torch Song) that a character's flaws are at least as interesting
I have got to learn to not leave cookies and saucers of milk out; whenever I do that I always wake up with a head full of ideas and not nearly enough time to do anything with them. It's even a werewolf story this time, which is really out of character for me, as I loathe most werewolf stories. (Night Howls excepted, which you should go out and read. Right now. It's OK, I'll wait) And most vampire stories. I'm not sure whether I'm going to hate this one, but I am going to write it. Should be inte
Yep, after altogether too long, I'm back. Woohoo! Or, y'know, something like that.
Anyway, time now presents itself, at least a little, which is cool. And in bits and pieces on the train, but still... one takes what one can get.
And yes, this does mean I've finished a first draft. Just need to get it properly savaged edited and it may well be good to go. It's kind of weird, but just having something done, even in draft, is kind of nice.
Real Life's been kind of kicking my ass lately, and I've not been getting nearly the sort of writing done that I'd like. The rewrite of the last two chapters of Yankee, any of Carpe Diem (though at least I've got the background research I need done for that one), Wild Life, What Lies Beneath, any of the little interstitials with Justin and Rob... all just sitting there.
Not that I've been un-busy -- it's been an eventful month, what with having my dog euthanized, the separation, landing a po
Bah. Characters are a pain. I should be working on the rewrite of the last two chapters of Yankee, or on its sequel, or on Wild Life, or even (gasp!) actual Real Work. Instead... instead I'm cleaning out someone's basement. Metaphorically, at least.
At least this thing should be shortish, probably about as long as Firegrass was.
To tease, here's a bit of the beginning of this untitled thing:
Untitled Story
"William," Ben said, his voice thick with accusation. "What did you do?"
I got tapped to write a chapter of Collision, the round-robin murder mystery thing that a bunch of authors are working on. Chapter 14, "Running to Stand Still", is up on AwesomeDude, DeweyWriter, and CRVBOY. Enjoy.
(Amusingly, there's been exactly one piece of mail about it so far, asking when chapter 15's coming out, and that showed up about an hour after chapter 14 went live...)
I'm not entirely sure which is the worse thing, the fact that iTunes has an unnatural fondness for the KMFDM in my music library, or that I find it fits my mood. One or the other's probably worrisome.
At least it's interspersing Evanescence occasionally, just for a change of pace.
Yesterday was, on the whole, a crap day. Which was kind of strange, because it was also weirdly productive.
The crap part was entirely personal, as we took my dog to the vets and had her euthanized last night. This wasn't something that was unexpected -- she was 16 and had a slowly progressing neurodegenerative problem that was destroying the myelin sheathing around her nerves, and over the weekend we hit the point where she had no control in her hind end and only spotty bladder and bowel co
Or "On the nature of writing". Or something like that.
I figured it was time to stop just bitching about the things in my writing I'm not happy about and actually start doing something about it. It's too late in the semester to sign up for a writing class at the local community college, but it's never too late to read about writing, so I've started.
A while back I picked up a copy of "Characters and Viewpoint" by Orson Scott Card (on the recommendation of The Pecman, who wrote the storie
So I finished the draft for the story that I've been currently blocking on (if you were in chat the other night you got to see me ambush Dio and Myr -- sorry guys. And no, the Jell-o pictures will never see the light of day ever! ) and sent it away to be poked at by folks who're good at poking things. I've already gone and fiddled with my index page to give it a spot, along with teasing about a few other stories in the same series that are in a sufficient state to figure they will be done, even
And I just can't get the !@#$ thing expressed right on paper. Or screen. Whatever. You know, actually written in writing. I hate that.
This may be the biggest problem I have as a writer, actually getting into words the things I see in my head. I can't draw them, so all I can do is describe them, and, well, words just fail me. Or I fail them. Something like that.
Feelings I can do, I can manage mildly poetic cadence that'll carry you along, and I'm pretty sure I can amuse, but damn me if
Woohoo!
Yeah, stupid though it may sound, one of the things that's been holding me up on the sequel to Yankee (besides work, other writing commitments, the straight romance novel, family time, and a serious attempt to make things good with my wife) is the title. I've been calling it "Yankee II" but, let's be honest, as a title that stinks. (Granted, there are worse, but who wants worse than that?) The title helps me, since it mostly sums up the story, at least until it's got enough traction
I've had the odd experience of being able to edit drafts of a story I'm reading and really, really like.
On the one hand, it's kind of cool -- I get to read chapters before everyone else. (nyah, nyah! ) Which isn't actually a cool thing all by itself, but I get a fix sooner than I might otherwise, and that's good.
The downside to this is I actually feel kinda like crap about it, and more than a little guilty. And that's because I've been ripping the chapters to shreds. Stuff that I wou
And here's part 3, the last of what's written. Past the end of this (and yeah, it ends in the middle of a scene) there are some sketched out bits, including my first shot at a tender sex scene which really didn't work, but that's about it.
It does kinda peter out and not wrap up properly. I've always had a problem with endings...
And yeah, I'm still arguing with the rich text editor.
Strangest Places
<h1 style="margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0in;">Scene: Back to school<
Yep, more of the story I'm not gonna finish (I think). Again, more viewpoint shifts and missing sections, so it's mildly but not entirely comprehensible. And I still seem to be freaking the rich text editor widget out.
Strangest Places
<h1>Scene: The kiss in public</h1> [Justin]
It was a nice day. Spring was coming, and the weather'd turned warm early. Tristan and I had met at the park by the library, and were just sort of hanging out.
"So you planning on
Yep, another partially finished draft that I think will go nowhere.
This was the first real gay romance I wrote, done over the course of a month when I was coming out to myself and really working things out in my head. It was therapy of a sort, though it's always a tossup how well that worked. It's got all sorts of problems, the biggest being it switches first-person viewpoints and even throws itself into third person occasionally. Hey, what can I say, I was reading a good chunk of Nifty a
Yeah, well... me too. Apparently we were both wrong.
I've gotten a number of pieces of criticism about the last two chapters of Yankee. They boil down to two main points:
1) I didn't like the ending
2) The ending was weakly written
#1 is something to be coped with -- the plot's not going to change. #2, though... unfortunately that second point is a lot more valid than I wanted it to be. The ending of Yankee could have been really strong, but intsead it had Rob kind of wussing out a
Chapter 16 is off to Nifty and Myr, though both folks have plenty to do, and it's 10 AM so I wouldn't expect anything before the morning. Still, I've finished, and feel the need to dance the geeky author dance of completion. This would be a good time to avert your eyes.
Now it's time to dig into other things. Ben and William await, as do a number of other characters who've been grumbling at me lately.
it's one of those iceberg things. (Or one of those "I need to install this one little package on my Debian Linux system" things...) I've got a simple exchange between two characters, which looks like:
"What do you think, Ben," the white haired man asked. "One of the Great Cities?"
Ben frowned and held his spyglass up to look again. "No," he said after another survey of the city. "I don't think so. It's not from the First Age, either. Second, I think. It's definitely big, but it doe
I hate it when characters get out of control. Well, mostly, at least. I mean, yes, it's useful sometimes, since it means the words flow faster (woohoo!) but it reaches a point where things just start getting out of hand. I mean, it's bad enough when they start going places and doing things, leaving a trail of plot summaries and partially written chapters in their wake, but now I've sat down and started on detailed character backgrounds.
Ghod, I'm even working on rules for the bloody magic sy
Or when they do they just don't come fast enough. Yes, I know I'm kind of whining here. Some days the words just flow out. Those days I like. Some days it's a fight for every word -- fighting against other pieces that want my attention, or fighting against a story that just doesn't want to be told right then. Those days suck.
Today's just one of those annoying days. The story's there, there's no real distraction, the words, they're just coming out in small chunks. At this rate it'll take all
One last partial chapter dump, so I can clean my brain out and move on to other things. Woohoo! I won't be leaving this story alone (alas the action parts come later and earlier, but aren't actually written) but it is getting set aside for now so I can work on the earlier parts of the series.
This is the third in the set of three I posted. The first one was the middle, and the second the beginning (yay for discontinuity) if you want to go read those. They're all chapter starters and get mayb
