Japanned

Hello again!

It was supposed to be my turn to post something here at the Scribblerati blog on Friday, but it completely slipped my mind. Super disappointing, I know. My apologies. The good news is, the only reason it slipped my mind is because of my currently very full writing schedule.

For example:

1. Our next meeting is on Tuesday, so I need to finish my critique of Shawn's current WIP.

2. I'm continuing to work on my own WIP. It's an on-going process, but I'm pretty happy with it. In fact, it's coming pretty easy at the moment, at least for the next few chapters... there's a hazy part ahead, but... well, whatever, like I said: I'm continuing to work on it. I'm hoping to have a finished draft by...Mmmm... September-ish? Maybe October is a safer guess. Either way, it continues.

3. However, I've been most distracted recently by my own blog. My wife and I went to Japan last month, and I took notes. Now I'm chronicling those adventures day by day. Swing over and take a look, it's all gathered under the tag: "Japanned" to make it easy to find.

So that's where I'm at right now. Busy, busy, busy. I hope you're all still writing out there.

Later, kids,

Jon

Getting back to it

Recently I broke my computer.

This is not to be confused with the time my computer died. That time was the laptop's fault. It was old and slow and not meant for this world anymore. But this time? This time it was my fault. I went to open the cover and instead of doing that, I just kind of pushed it off the table. Luckily, I had paid for Tech Support previously and the various replacement doo-dads and what-nots were not too expensive. Plus, it turns out I really am blessed with wisdom of the very Gods, because I had thought to put my Microsoft Office download code in an obvious place, the first place I looked even. I barely had to tear up the attic. I hardly swore up a blue streak at all. In the end, it wasn't too much hassle. I took the whole experience as a Teaching Moment: Don't push your computer onto the floor. You might want to write that down.

Or, maybe that's obvious to you.

Anyway, the crisis has been averted, we got greens across the board, people. We're in the pipe, 5 by 5. The laptop is fixed. But you know how it goes, right? You think you've handled one problem, only to find yourself facing another...

I was working on a story when my computer took the Big Leap. A novel, maybe. A book, possibly. A story. My Work in Progress. I was in the middle of it, trucking along and then... boom... break time. It's hard to get back into things when that happens, as they sometimes do. So what do you do?

What am I doing?

Jon's Handy-Dandy Suggestions for getting back into your shit, yo

I've talked about stuff like this before...

1. Start from the beginning

Every time I sit down to do some work on whatever story I'm working on, I usually start off by re-reading/editing the last part I worked on. It's kind of like warming up the engines and taxing down the runway. Doing this helps me get back into the rhythm of the piece. It helps me to re-ground myself in the work. Where am I? What am I doing? What's the next step? I find that it's all much easier once you get the juices flowing. this is a good habit to get into, I think. It not only helps to maintain a consistent direction, but it can also alert you to the fact that you might need to adjust that direct. Story-awareness, my friends. Story awareness.

2. Work on a side project

Sometimes it helps to step away for awhile. Some people suggest doing chores or something like that, but... yeah, fuck that. Chores... pphhbbtt. Whatever. Anyway, I suggest working on other projects. You have other projects, right? Things on the back-burner, maybe some other stories in various states of readiness, yeah? During my forced break I was not only pondering my current WIP, but two others I have in limbo. The one upside to my unplanned writing hiatus was the hatching of a couple of ideas. I thought I would jot those down quick before getting back to the heavy-lifting that is the current WIP. Think of it like stretching before a workout. Of course, this can be a tricky thing. You want to be careful you don't get sucked so far into a new project that you end up abandoning your old one. You'll never get anything done that way, so stay vigilant, friends.

3. Blog

Okay, maybe the temptation of those shiny new and unblemished story ideas is too much, especially when compared to your more worn and lived-in WIP. Maybe you don't think you're strong enough. That is understandable. If this is you, then I suggest other types of writing to warm-up with. Blogging is the amuse-bouche of the creative process after all, so indulge. Talk about your Writing Process. Write some flash fiction or a book review, gush about your favorite TV show, fill out a survey, or maybe recommend some comics... sometimes several comics. Be a smart ass. Whatever. It doesn't matter. In the end, the only thing that does is that you shut up and write.

And that's the most important take-away from this bit of nonsense, kids: Shut up and write.

At least, that's what I plan on doing...

Until next time,

Jon

Scribblerati Flash Fiction

This week I thought we'd try something new.

Writing a novel on your own isn't easy during the best of times. The real world can often work against you, making each page an uphill slog, facing down giants and monsters. I recently started a new job. This new time requirement has severely interrupted my writing schedule, my current WIP's fight for the high ground has slowed to a crawl. As writers, I'm sure this sounds familiar to you, it's an issue we all face, we fellow part-time writers still shackled to our day jobs. It's definitely something I've had to deal with before, and I've found the best thing to do, at least at first, is to just focus on the new job. Don't worry about the work. Go. Settle in. Establish your new schedule. Learn the ropes. After a week or two, you can come back, sit down, pick up your work, and start slaying those giants again.

Granted, sometimes this can be a whole new issue...

You must be worthy...

To combat this, I've decided on a new schedule, a somewhat flexible two hour block of writing each day, some dedicated time to sit down and work on something. Y'know... to ease back into it. It's a new thing. It's only been in place for a week or so, and to be honest it's only been mildly successful so far, hence the inclusion of the word "flexible", but I'm working on being better about it. An important facet is there's no pressure, just continual effort. Butts in seats, people. Butts. In. Seats. Focus on that. That's important. The rest will come.

Working on some side-writing is one thing that can help get you back into the fight. Blogging, for instance. Short stories, maybe. Or maybe, if you don't want to veer too far from your WIP, how about Flash Fiction? Flash Fiction is a style of extreme brevity, 300 to 1000 words. Short, sweet, and to the point.

Let's try it out, shall we?

I posted a picture below. I found it on-line, I'm not sure where it came from, so if it's yours, let me know. Otherwise, for the rest of you... Click on it. What do you see? Write it down, and if you're so inclined, post it in the comment section. It'll be fun. Just keep in mind: 300 to 1000 words only. Also, I recommend that you write your own story first, before you read mine, just to see how close--or how far apart--our worlds turn out to be...

Ready?

Womb World

by Jonathan Hansen

Harrison Holliday leaned on the chromed railing, listening to the soft clink of ice in his drink and the distant groaning dirge of nascent worlds ripening on the vine.

The great marshland steppes of the World Garden stretched to the horizon. From high atop the lustrous ivory needle of the Sales Tower, cool breeze tickling at his face, Harrison could see dozens of young planets. They rose above the clouds, slowly coalescing, swaying on thick green stalks as wide as a city. He watched oceans of water sluice from them, land masses heaving, cracking and rumbling, crashing together, thundering, booming echoes.

A sound from long ago, from the days of his bone thin youth, days of panting in the stagnant heat, the damp-cotton-thick humidity, knee-deep in squelching muck. Whenever the Overseers and their spark-sticks and the choking diesel smoke of the Weeders were across the fields, in those moments he would pause and look up into the azure sky. The other Sprayers would trudge on, bent under their sloshing canisters of Pesticide, eyes down and hunting for the small green shoots poking from the mud, but he would look up, the huge sphere of a growing nu-world looming overhead, and watch the brilliant white flights of marsh birds wheeling out of the sun’s glare, swooping among the vines, soaring on slow wings.

He would watch them fly away, a molten brand of longing twisting in his guts.

His eyes fell on the Work Camps, the sprawl of muddy hovels clinging like a rotten fungal shelf to the Garden’s edge, to a land of upheaval, shattered by giant arcs of twisted roots. He tossed back his drink, amber fire burning down his throat, and looked up into that same azure sky, seeing a far off gleam floating in low orbit high above.

“Impressive, isn’t it?”

He turned. A smiling young woman waited. He recognized her model. Beautiful in a pre-packaged way, precision styled, bred in the Customer Service Vats to be preternaturally personable. Sales. Lens embedded in the center of her pale blue eyes whirred and focused.

 “Words can’t describe,” he said.

“Mr. Holliday,” she extended a slim fingered hand. He shook, feeling warm skin that must have cost a fortune. “How can we be of service today?”

Harrison glanced past her, eyes skipping over the man standing on the other side of the Observation Deck. Big and built, powerful, an aggressive, military grade model, with a neck like a bull and a face like it was cut from granite. There was probably a titanium chassis under his skin and a wolf’s lust for blood programmed into his brain. His black suit hung on him like a Butcher’s Apron. The man didn’t move. He just stared.

Harrison turned back, a friendly smile. “I need to buy a planet.”

“Well, you have come to the right place, Mr. Holliday.” She linked his arm in hers and turned him back toward the slow creaking sway of the World Garden. “Voluspa Origins Industries is the leading producer of Nu-worlds,” she said. “With our patented Hephaestus Forge Engine, we now have over 6 dozen spinning in four different star systems. Building Universes for future Worlds,” she chirped proudly. “Now, if you’ll let me know what you’re looking for, I can help choose a world best suited to your needs.”

A quick wafting puff of perfume.

Subtle tendrils of lilacs, lilting, soft as kisses.

He inhaled, felt it drag down into his lungs, felt it wrap his brain. Intoxicating, stupefying. She smiled, dazzling white. Harrison bit down hard, splitting the capsule hidden under his tongue. A wash of icy cold clarity poured over him.

He blinked and grunted, suddenly wide awake. “Colonization,” he clarified.

Her perfectly arched brows drew together, confused, examining him, lens re-focusing. “Artificial?” she asked, probing.

“Human. Nu-worlds. New possibilities. Right?” He said, “Just like the commercial.”

“Human colonization?” An indulgent look, “The paperwork for an M-class is no small matter, Mr. Holliday, approvals, regulations, controls, corporate licensing,” she said, “not to mention the price...”

“We’re solvent,” He held out an open palm, lines of data hanging in mid-air, sparking like chain lightning between his fingers, “I’m sure you’ll find everything in order.”

Doubtful, but compliant and Sale-hungry, she reached out; a single fingertip touched his own.

It was like a spark of static electricity, a harpoon spike of data thrown across a vast gulf in that instant of contact. She froze, mouth half-open. He gripped her hand, held her steady, one eye on the Security Bull across the Deck. She twitched as her programming was flayed. The virus was like a squirt of crimson into clear water, staining, infecting, and then leaping across her uplink. She jerked and snapped, eyes rolling white, falling in a heap to the teakwood deck. The Security Drone took a single step, hand inside his black coat, and then he crumpled too.

For a moment, Harrsion Holliday let the cool wind ruffle his hair, listening to the distant creak and boom. The Program pinged as it ravaged the security net, once, twice, all clear. Far below in the bowels of the tower’s command center, he imagined chaos, while out on the vast marshland steppes, he knew the Gardeners were just now noticing, turning in the swampy, fly-swarmed dank as the Overseers dropped and the big chugging bulk of the Weeders rolled to a stop.

He opened his commlink.

“Packaged delivered. Door’s open.”

High above, he saw the distant low orbit gleam respond to his signal, blooming little bursts of orange fire. Tiny shapes darted away, the silver glints of fast attack ships turning toward the surface in a wide arc, engines screaming as they burned through the atmosphere.

Out in the Garden, the Harvest Charges thundered and flashed, the virus igniting them. The stalks splintered and groaned and the nu-worlds broke free.

All the way out to the horizon, he saw Nu-worlds start to rise, half-crumpled balloons, too young, too soon. They cracked and crumbled and broke apart in the freezing vacuum of space.

“Nu-worlds. New beginnings,” he said to the sound of far off cheers.

The End

All right, that's mine. How about you?

Back in the Saddle

My laptop died recently...

It was a real tragedy.

The loss of my old laptop decimated my work output. Yes, I could hook it up to my big, honkin' TV, but the angle was all weird and cricked my neck, the desk was too low and the chair was too high. It was uncomfortable and hard to really sink into the work. Sure, sure, I occasionally managed to pull off the odd brain-melting 3600 word day, but that was usually more akin to a non-drinker suddenly going out on a raging bender, rather than someone who's spending a regular evening having drinks with friends--I paid for it the next day.

I've never considered myself one of those types of "writers", the type that can't get anything done unless they have the absolute perfect writing area set-up with the perfect music and the perfect temperature in the perfect spot with the perfect level of noise. I've always considered that kind of stuff nonsense, nothing but ready made excuses for the non-writing writer set. I believe this because I hold to the idea that if you really want to be a writer, then you will write. I realize it can be tough to make the time sometimes, but... that's the rub, right? If you want to write, you will find the time to right. Granted, I have always been lucky enough to be able to work just about anywhere, at least, as long as I had reasonable access to my WIP, and I guess I can still say I can work just about anywhere really, but sitting on that too-soft ottomon with my head tilted too far back? It was a mile too far for me. I couldn't do it. My writing time suffered.

But then my new laptop finally arrived...

Yeah... We happy...

Except for Windows 8. What a crapfest, amirite? 

Other than that, it's good to be back and--after a bit of wrangling and wrestling with Windows 8--all set up. But here now, I am faced with a new question: How do I get started up again? Interrupting your schedule and/or routine or having your schedule and/or routine interrupted is a tough thing for a writer. Too much time away from The Work makes it harder and harder to sit down again and get back to things. It's hard to re-capture that rhythm and really dig in again in a really productive way.

So what do you do? What will Ido?

1. Schedule
You have to make time. Make time to settle in. Make time to stare at the screen. You need to force yourself to get back in front of the keyboard, so schedule some time to do it. Plan on it and stick to it. Make sure it happens. Sounds simple, right? Well, in that case, stop making excuses, sit down, shut up, and get back to work.

2. Backtrack
I find it easier to get to work on a normal day, if I spend a little time when I first sit back down going back over the latest stuff from the last writing session. It's kind of like warming up the engines, y'know? Like ramping the power levels back up into the green. It's hard to dive in cold, so instead, take some time, read through a bit of your most recent stuff and maybe fix what will most likely be a plethora of somehow now appallingly apparent mistakes. But it all looked so good the night before...

3. Take off the brakes
The flipside to taking some time each day to backtrack over your most recently completed stuff is that you can't spend too much time there. You don't want to get stuck in that mud, spinning your wheels, covering and recovering the same ground over and over again. Do that and suddenly you're that kid in the Critique Class bringing the same 100 pages to be reviewed that you brought ten years ago. Push, Sisyphus, push! At a certain point, you have to stop looking back and start looking ahead. You have to dive back in and just get started writing. Once you push your giant boulder to the top of that hill, take off the breaks and just go for it. You can always come back later. Keep that in mind: Just start writing. You can always come back later.

4. Consider
But before you do all that other stuff, take a moment or two, or a day, maybe just a little time while washing the dishes, whatever... Take some time and think about your story. Where's it going? Where do you want it to go? Where did it start? Is that the right place? And... if you were going to change something, what would it be? A scene? A character? A chapter? The beginning? The middle? The end? The whole thing? Could you delete it all and start over? Do you dare?

We'll see...

Get to writing,

Jon

How to pop your clutch

Sometimes that blank page is a killer, right?

Sitting there, staring at you, empty and seemingly determined to stay that way. People say: "Just start writing," and honestly, that's probably the best advice you'll get (except for what I'm about to blog about, of course...). Just start writing. It's just that simple. Don't worry about your amazing Opening Line until later, until after you've started. That's just a stall anyway, y'know, not starting your project because you just can't think of that perfect Opening Line? It's a stall, a smokescreen. It's nonsense. Just start, you can always come back and fix stuff later, in fact, you have to come back and fix stuff later. I mean, it's called a First Draft for a reason, right? Just start. Don't worry about where anything is going or what it all means, just cut those break lines and shove off down hill. Why not? What's the worst that can happen? It turns out to be nothing? You delete it and start something else? Big deal. Just start. No one's watching, what do you care?

Ah... but then, sometimes that blank page seems to actively resist that, right? Just start? Sometimes that is easier said than done.

So what do you do then?

Basically--I have found--you have to trick yourself. Think of it like starting a car with a manual transmission while rolling. Sometimes you have to trick your process to life, the idea being that once you get your pen going, chugging away under its own power, you're golden.

But what's the trick, you ask?

Well, admittedly, it could be anything. What works for you, works for you, right? But for the purposes of this specific blog, we'll focus on this one thing... SO... when you inevitably find yourself in that situation, as we all have, here's a hill to pop your imagination's clutch on.

Follow this link here.

On the other side of that link, you will find Io9, a sci-fi website, and one of the things it does on a semi-regular basis is listed under the tag: Concept Art Writing Prompts. I may have mentioned this link before. It's a lot of random drawings and pictures akin to the book The Mysteries of Harris Burdick. And like that well known book, the prompts you will find there are odd and interesting, and all capable of sparking an idea or a world, maybe short story, maybe even a novel. It's a fantastic resource, who knows what you'll see.

Here's a smattering of what you will find there:

Crazy, huh? What do you see? World War 2 era Russian soldiers dragging the head of a downed robot back from the snowy front? Just another day at the Super-Science Factory? Explorers in the ruins of a long gone world? A street vendor selling the latest in cool nostalgic tech? An off-world Farmer's Market? The last gas before entering the jet stream? The old world huddled in the shadow of the new?

So many possibilities. So if you're out there and you find yourself stuck, unsure, scared and can't get anything going? Well relax, take a deep breath, there's no one looking, it's just you and a bunch of cool and weird pictures. Pick one and start rolling down hill.

Just start,

Jon

What is best in life?

So true, so very, very true. But he forgot a part y'know. It's true. Do you know what's really best in life, or maybe more accurately, do you know what is ALSO best in life?

A day of writing.

That's what I'm doing this weekend. I have to mow tomorrow and I may have to do some grocery shopping at some point too. Plus, I am definitely going to see the Avengers again tonight. (Wait, what? You haven't seen the Avengers yet? What the HELL is wrong with you, man? Go. Go on... Go! Ugh!... some people...) Anyways, that's my plans for this particular weekend, a couple of errands, nothing else, nothing....

Except for writing.

You see, a couple of weeks ago, I took up a new six month position at the Salt Mines. They were having a lot of turn-over lately due to a recent (and quite frankly somewhat excessive--I'm looking at you, Head Overseer Mungo) rate of slave deaths, coupled with the openings of several new mines, so now my days have been starting early and running long once again.

These days, I get up with the sun, pack in with all the mewling, stinking dregs of humanity all jammed in tight into their cattle car, and I spend my days writing down the general process of drudgery and shame that makes up daily life here at the Salt Mines, and all in order to ensure that the other business casual day-slaves are clear on what exactly is expected of them and how exactly they are to go about doing it.

It's really not that bad, to be honest, at least as far as Salt Mine slave positions go. It's a lot of: Mine the salt. Load the Salt. Lug the salt out of the mine for your masters. Be quick about it, or we'll whip the crap out of you. Repeat until you die.

For this I get nearly $0.15 an hour and a hole to piss in, too! Ha! I swear, it is just like Christmas. The downside, of course, is that my writing schedule has been thrown off.

Maybe "thrown off" isn't quite the right term. Derailed. That's a good way to put it. In fact, in the past two weeks, I haven't written at all. It is frustrating, to say the least.

(sad face...)

This weekend though, oh, this weekend! This weekend, I get back on track. This weekend, I remember what is good in life and I make myself a little time to get some writing done. In fact, I'm gonna get started right now!

You should try it. Make some time to work on your writing. I feel better already.

Thank you, Conan!

Jon

Soon!

I'm sure all of you long time, hardcore Scribblerati-heads will probably easily recall me announcing my first sale a few months back. But for all of new fans out there who are probably going "What the holy heck is this crazy som-bitch goin' on about" right about now, the long and short of it goes like this:

Yours truly (Jon)  wrote a short story called Harris. I then turned around and submitted it to a genre fiction anthology called Cifiscape (It's pronounced Sci-fi scape), because the anthology's central idea was to write about the future of Minneapolis, a dystopian future to be specific, but one with a little bit of hope. So this is what I kept in mind when I sat down and put pen to paper, hoping to put together a little something-something that would fit the bill.

And apparently I did.

You see, a few month ago my story was accepted and in the time since, the book has been making it's way though the publishing progress. If you are already one of the few, the happy few, the band of brothers who follow my Author's page on Facebook or my Twitter, then you've probably already caught a whiff or two of the building anticipation that is permeating the Internet. For those of you who haven't, allow me to lay down the low-down, cats.

It goes like this: the Cifiscape website first put up an Author's Announcement page for me. Then they put up a Story Synopsis page a few weeks later and then we did a little Q and A session for their Author's Spotlight page. It's good stuff, man, it's all really good stuff, pure entertainment, you should check it out. Seriously. Now, granted, I'm a little biased. Okay, okay, maybe I'm more than a little biased, but you know what? Ask my mother, she'll tell you the same thing... Go ahead, ask her. I'll wait...

See?

Anyway, the best news of all showed up late last week.

The book is ready. It comes out next week. Oh yeah, you heard me right. Next week. It will be available for you--the great unwashed masses who I love so, so dearly--to purchase next week. Next week, kids.

How excited am I?



Jesse Spanno don't have nothing on me!

But what does that mean for all you kids, the average, everyday Scribblerati fan? How can you stay informed? Where do you go for your up-to-the-minute publication/release schedule? Calm down, people, calm down. Just keep your eyes on the Cifiscape website here and until the big day, here's a schedule of some upcoming Cifiscape Volume 2 centered events.

Get ready,

Jon

Why blog?

Sometimes I wonder about the point of blogging. If you look out over the seething, screaming mass of humanity that makes up this filthy pit we call the Internet, the personal blog is Legion. We’re just one voice crushed in the cacophonous din, an e-needle in the LAMP package stack.

So, why bother? What’s the point? Why do I blog? Why do we, the Scribblerati, blog? Who’s it for? Who are we talking to? Why do we do this thing we do? A valid question, right? I mean, we’re not a writing resource, per se. We’re not a news source, not really. We’re not strictly a pop culture blog, nor are we really an art project. We’re kind of self-promotey, I guess, but that’s not really our aim, either. So why blog?

I know for me, myself, I like to have things. I’m a collector that can’t be bothered to collect any one thing specifically and the things on the Internet I like are things you can’t really put on a shelf, they’re internety things: Videos, pictures, what have you. Also, I’m drawn to lists. It’s all very OCD of me. I just like to have them. Other folks treat their blogs like a diary of sorts, sometimes posting when drunk, or angry, or perhaps without foresight—which usually ends up being a bit unfortunate—but hey, if being embarrassingly honest (or dishonest) with potentially the entire planet is your thing, well… good for you. Also, there’s the fact that they say that, should you ever become an author in these modern times, then you will need a central place, somewhere your devoted multitudes can gather, a place to bask in your musky essence and glean the few little driblets of information that you, their anointed one, has deigned to scatter down into their midst. And that’s great. Thumbs up. All of that is great, more or less, perfectly valid reasons to blog, but is that why we do it here?

Writing is insular, as most of you no doubt know. Most writers write alone, even in the middle of a crowd (That is so deep…) and more so, most writers stick to a certain type of writing, something they do, day in and day out. And as such, they can burn out, get stuck in a rut, or just generally get too lost within the worlds they’re creating to even realize that they’re ignoring craft and quality and narrative or whatever…

Ahem…

Or, to lunge away from a suddenly very Star Wars heavy post, when you work out the same muscles the same way each and every day, you can end up defeating your original purpose. You can take something that started out as good and you can end up twisting it into something…

…fucking gross.

Sorry about that.

I can’t speak for the whole of the Scribblerati, but the way I look at it, blogging is a writing exercise. It’s a random bump in the writing road, it’s a little something different, an excuse to stretch your legs. Sometimes that’s what you need. Things aren’t flowing? Can’t get that one scene right? Are you staring at that blank page, all knotted up with indecision and failure inside? You got a case of the mental Carpal Tunnels going on?

Well, quit your whining and work on something else for a bit. Blog. You see, the good thing about blogging is that it won’t accidentally erupt into a brand new project that will end up eventually sucking you away from your current work either. That age old rule “Write Everyday”, the one that presses down on your shoulders, making you feel guilty and terrible and talentless?

Nonsense.

Forget it.

You can’t take that shit literally, it’s impossible. Leave that shit behind. It’s the core truth that matters: You want to write, you keep at it, you take it seriously, and you do it often, but most importantly, try to change it up every once in awhile to keep it interesting, because Carpal Tunnel Syndrome sucks… I assume.

I mean, look at that poor lady. Such pain and yet, she’s still there at her station, working, refusing to quit. Look at her. Such nobility.

Keepin’ it fresh,

Jon

Sale: "Harris" by Jonathan Hansen

Saturday was a good day for me.

Why, you ask?

Because I made my first sale!



I know, right? Awesome.

So, the sale was a short story entitled Harris. It's about a group of survivors scratching out a life, scavenging among the rubble of downtown Minneapolis in the aftermath of an alien invasion. It's supposed to be a nice little action piece about regular people in a wild setting with insane obstacles and a simple motivation.

I sold it to a local short story anthology called Cifiscape, Vol. 2 (pronounced Sci-fi scape). The 1st volume is pictured below and you can get your very own copy here. The good folks behind the book plan on having a website up soon. When they do, you can rest assured that I will post it here... probably more than once. In the meantime, the book is published by Onyx Neon Press, a small press out of the Pacific Northwest, I gather. In my opinion, they all seem like lovely people, so feel free to check them out, maybe even pick up a copy of Cifiscape, Vol. 1, if you want.

Cool, right? But I know what you're thinking: When is the one with my short story in it coming out?

I don't know.

Probably next year, as the whole editing/book/blah-blah-blah hasn't even started yet. I am told, however, that process will start this month and so... probably next year. When I have a date, I'll let you know... alot... most likely. The really crazy part is that when it comes out, it will be a new frontier for me. I'll exist. Out there. In the world. People will see it (hopefully). People I don't know, even (hopefully). It's strange to think about, exciting to imagine too, but weird. A little scary, maybe. I mean, what if...



Hmmm... Well, time will tell, I guess. Stay tuned, faithful masses, more information will be disseminated as it received!

WOOO!
Jon

RIP

Years ago I was having a conversation with my dad. We were sitting on his crappy couch in the little apartment he'd rented after separating from my mom. I don't remember exactly why I was there because at the time I was married, graduated, and no longer living back at home. I was probably just there to visit, and it probably wasn't too long after him setting up in the apartment.

We talked about a lot of things that day, most of which I no longer remember, but there was one thing he asked me that I'll never forget. He asked me why I didn't have any kids yet. I wasn't really prepared for the question, but I answered truthfully. I said I didn't know and that it just hadn't been a priority. He asked me, “Don't you want something to pass on in this world? Some kind of legacy that will last after you're gone?” I told him I didn't know if I'd ever have kids, but that I hoped that someday my legacy would live on in a book that people could read long after my time on this world was done.

Strange that I finished the beta draft of my first novel a day before Steve Jobs died.

I don't expect to be famous. All I want is to make a nice little ripple in this pond we live in. All I want is for some geeky picked on kid, or some tired and aspiring college student, or somebody's mom or dad to pick up my book and find a little escape from the crappy world that we live in.

If that was my legacy, I’d put that on my tombstone and die a happy man.

I can't imagine changing the world.

Rest in peace, Steve Jobs.

Two years later...

Who would have believed it to be possible, but two years ago, almost to the day, the Scribblerati put up their first post.

We had been around for a while before that, working, meeting, critiquing. We'd had some members come and go, but that first blog post really solidified us as a group. It cemented us as the core, as a team, and it put us out there in the world for the first time. It signified our intent.

From the original text:

The Scribblerati are:

Claudia Hankin Balluff
Was once voted 42nd "Sassiest Girl in America" by Sassy magazine. That's not top banana in the sassy department, but it's still pretty darn sassy.

Lisa Bergin
Philosophy professor; felted creature maker; food grower and preserver; mama who's at her calmest when she can carve out time to write her middle-grade novel.

Jon Hansen
Jon Hansen never wanted anything more than the simple, care-free life of a hammock-tester. Fate, it seems, has plans of its own...

Shawn Enderlin
Is a sci-fi / fantasy geek, foodie, alt music fanatic, comic loving, corporate IT slave who writes and travels with the lovely @mplstravelkitty.

Mark Teats
Author of BLACKHEART, specializes in angels, demons, dark dreams & fast-paced supernatural writing. Per Mayan prophecy his best seller will hit the shelves Fall 2012.

Two years later and we're still here.

We're still working. We're still unpublished, but we're still meeting, we're still critquing, still chugging along and going strong. But where are we? What are we up to? Now two years later, where do the storied Agents of the Scribblerati find themselves? Well... obviously Lisa still doesn't have a personal information page to link to... some things never change... and we recently attended our very first convention (Diversicon) with some all-bound-up-and-pretty samples of our work to hand out for a bit of swag, but other than that, let's see, shall we?

The Scribblerati

Claudia Hankin

Claudia currently splits her time between editing and rewriting the second draft of her novel, Ursala Evermore and the Case of the Man Who Wasn't, a time-traveling, murder mystery set in 1920s England, and promoting her husband's New Orleans dance-hall style jazz band: The Southside Aces.



Lisa Bergin

When she isn't teaching philosophy, working in her garden, or creating terrifying wool-animals, Lisa is circling the final draft of her novel, Once We Were Bears, the story of young bear turned into a girl who, with the help of three children from a post-apocalyptic world, must save the planet  from itself, all narrated by a hill of sentient potatoes.

Jon Hansen

My first novel, Gunslingers of the Apocalypse is currently shelved pending a re-evaluation. You can read a sample of it here. So I'm between projects at the moment. I went on and on about it all, at great length, here. I'm actively looking for a new big project to dive into. It might have Dragons, Super-villains, or maybe some bad-ass, futuristic thieves versus some marauding demons, either way, I'm excited to get back to work.

Shawn Enderlin

Shawn is a self-described IT dude, a yogi, and a foodie who has just finished work on the second draft of his novel, To Kill the Goddess, a dark fantasy, sci-fi, Game of Thrones meets 9/11 mash-up. With the arrival of Fall, most Saturdays can find Shawn whooping it up for his beloved Golden Gophers football team.

Mark Teats



Mark is a father, a fencer, a fisher, and another IT guy (hmmm... there must be something wrong with those types...) who is nearly finished with the 4th draft of his novel, Blackheart, the story of an avenging Immortal, a cancer-ridden Private Investigator, and a psychic teenage girl versus the Armies of Hell, with the fate of all Creation and one very special child hanging in the balance. And when he's not working on that, he's busy forging a path through the first draft of his new novel, Sunlight, the tale of a man trying to survive in a world full of vampires.



So, where are we now?

We're hard at work. We may be called the Scribblerati now, but initially our name was "Gonna Get Published." That's everyone's goal, of course, but we've found that maintaining that attitude has helped shape the way we work together. This means an acceptance of different voices and styles. It means both giving and receiving tough but fair criticism. It means understanding that the goal of the process is to improve everyone's work. Most of all, it means supporting each other and pushing each other to keep at it.

In a nutshell: We're fun. We're funny. We're geeky, and we encourage everyone to write to the utmost of his or her abilities.

Where are we now?

We're doing good and we're still at it.

Stay tuned,

Jon

Starting over

Recently, I have reached what I feel like is the end of the line, as far as my book being a viable product is concerned. It’s a whole thing. Anyway, I’ve come to my decision and as such, I have stuck the proverbial fork in it. But this leaves me with a question: What next? The obvious answer is, of course: Start a new book. But what about? And more importantly: How?

I’ve never done this before.

From inception to trunking, I worked on my last book—my first book—for six years or so, give or take 6, 7 months. Sure, sure, it’s not as long as some, but I’m not arbitrarily abandoning my book. I’m not setting this book aside because of a few stagnant years and a few more rejections… well, not entirely. I’m setting it aside because I’ve looked at the market, the saturation, the interest, the responses I’ve received and not received, yadda, yadda, yadda. I’ve taken all that and I’ve sat about and thought and thought and thought and basically, I think it’s just time. I think, for the moment, the project has run its course. Will I keep querying? Yes. I still have some names I haven’t tried and there are a handful of queries out there still current and there is also an agency that has the first three chapters, but I haven’t heard a peep from them since February, so I’ll just go ahead and hazard a guess as to their interest level… pppphhhbbbttt, but yeah. I will finish her up. I will let the clock run out, as the kids say.

Why?

Because it’s done.

It’s sad, like I said over at my blog: With this book goes three more stillborn, but I’ve still got things to do. I’ve got some short stories I need to work on still. 2 or 3 still need that second and third draft attention. A similar number might still exist in the ether of pre-creation floating about within my laptop, so that’s good, but that’s not what I’m here to talk about...

I’m here to talk about: Where do I go after that? What’s next?

I want another novel project, but how do you start?

This is my question. You see, I want to start it off right, get me? It has been a long time since I was last in this position and a combination of accidentally stumbling into the last novel project in the first place and barely remembering the beginning parts of the process at this point means I have no clue as to how to get started again. I hazily recall working on a first chapter that somehow became two and then it was three and… after that, I don’t know. I’ve got an idea for a book. Two, really. And I’ve got the Scribblerati. I didn’t have them last time, so that should help, right? Of course, that help will probably kick in more AFTER I actually get started again, I would think, since none of them are on their second book either, so… so, I googled it. (Actually I Binged it, since the crap temp job blocks Google for some reason…)

344,000,000 responses.

I searched: How do you start writing a new novel and I got 344,000,000 responses.

And every single one of them (that I bothered to look at) concerned starting your FIRST novel… Great, thanks Bing, you stupid bastard… hmm… well, maybe it’s still applicable. What else am I gonna do with my time? Work? Shyeah, right… Okay, so the first link is blocked by the crappy Temp job internet filter… so is the second. And the third. And the fourth (fuckers…). And the fifth… Christ...

Ah! Finally! Ehow is apparently okey-dokey A-ok with the Internet overlords here at the salt mines, so let’s see what they say.

Ahem…

The hardest part of writing a book is starting.

O RLY???

You want to write a book.

I do.

You have ideas and characters bouncing around in your head but can not find the time to put them onto paper.

Well, that’s not really the issue, but…

Your book will not be written until you start.

Uh, yeah. I suppose that’s true. It will also not be done until I finish.

The hardest part of writing a book is time.

I thought it was starting.

Give yourself consistent time to start and write your book and you will be able give those characters life.

Able give?

Here are some tips and suggestions to start writing your book

Can’t wait…

Difficulty: Moderately Challenging

Is that kind of like ordering “Minnesota spicy” in a Thai restaurant?

Instructions
Things You'll Need
• Time set aside to focus on writing.
• A desire to write a book.

What about an idea? A beginning and an ending? …Paper? …You know what? Forget I said anything, that’s my baggage. Please continue…

Start Writing or Does Writing a Book Seem Overwhelming

Is that a question?

This is the book you have always wanted to write.

Uh… I guess…

You may have slips of paper with notes scattered throughout your home and office.

I haven’t had time to clean lately, alright? And I don’t appreciate you judging me.

What is holding you back?

I don’t know. Work, life. I mean, where does the time go, right? Really, I think this is less a reflection upon my own inability to pick up after myself and more of an indictment of the ingrained expectations of American work culture. Did you know Europeans get nap time every day? I’ve heard that’s true.

Is it that writing a book seems like an overwhelming project, or you do not know where to begin, or your plate is so full you do not have the time?

Those all seem like the same thing... The middle one, I guess.

Compare writing your book with the prospective you received at the beginning of your first college course.

My first college course? Uh… Okay, but I fail to see how Introduction to Anthropology has any bearing whatsoever on my idea of writing a noir book about a super villain heist...

How were you going to get all those assignment done?

What assignments? What’s going on? What are we talking about? Are we still talking about novels? This better not be a trick where I’m suddenly a Scientologist at the end of this thing…

As you worked your way through the semester, finishing one project or paper at a time, it created a sense of relief when the end came and all assignments were complete.

Are you…? What…? Is that a question? You’re totally about to bring up Jesus, aren’t you?

During your coffee take some time to jot ideas down.

Coffee? What? I was told all I needed was time set aside to write and a desire to write a book. No one said anything about coffee!

Writing a book -Break it Down Into Steps.

What? Are we back to writing again?

All big projects seem overwhelming when you view them in their totality.

You know, that is so true.

If you think about the end before you start the immensity of the project will hold you back.

Uh… Well, I think it’s good to know where your story is going, at least in the abstract. You might want to reconsider that stance.

The first thing you need to do to when you want to write a book is to sit down and start.

Ah yes… the hardest part…

You do not have to write the entire book in one sitting.

Yeah, no shit. You know, sentences like that really make me begin to doubt the validity of your advice…

Take the time you need at intervals you can spare. Use a tape recorder so your thoughts, especially when driving, can be documented. Take all the 'small amount of times' such as waiting for your child's lesson to finish or use you lunch break as 'think' or 'write' time. You could get up an hour earlier and/or go to bed an hour later. You do have the time needed. You just need to set aside time to write, just like you do for other activities

So, what you are saying here… in a nutshell, is that I should treat writing like any other activity and make time to do it when I have the time available to me? That is some Zen shit right there, man. My mind = fuckin’ blown.

Use this process to start writing a book:

Ok.

Make writing your book part of your schedule

Uh, yeah, I think that’s been sufficiently covered.

Take out your calendar, now, and mark "I Want To Write a Book", "I Want To Write A Novel" or whatever your ultimate goal is on a date and in a time slot, just like any other important meeting or activity.

I want to eat ALL the ice cream!

Ask For Family support to give you time to write.

“Family”? You mean, like the mafia?

Make sure that everyone in your household knows this is your time to write a book, they do not bother you, and you put all thoughts or excuses out of your mind. Let your family know that everything they need your attention for will get done, also, but this needs to be your time uninterrupted.

Right, yeah, that’ll work. I can’t even go to the bathroom by myself…

Adhere to your book writing schedule.

Ok.

When this date and time have arrived sit down, pull out your slips of paper, notes, a tape recordings and start writing.

A tape recordings? You keep adding shit! I didn’t know I was supposed to make a tape recordings! Who even has a God damn tape recorder anymore?!?!

Your starting time is the most important part to get past any overwhelming feelings or excuses you have had. Start writing your book and nothing will get in your way.

Possible exceptions: Meteor strikes. Free doughnuts. Lactose Intolerance.

Start Writing A Book Just like any other habit the first time of setting time aside for writing a book will lead to the second time and it gets easier each time you sit down to write your book. Once the habit is formed take your book writing one day at a time. When you work on it a little at a time you will eventually have written the book that has been inside you wanting to get published.

I wonder if it’s possible to say the word “time” more often in the space of three sentences… So, basically: If you want to write, then take the time to write and you will be writing. It’s just that simple? Well, then... That was very helpful, wasn’t it?

Thank you, Internet.

You’re welcome,
Jon

Motivation

Hi-ho, Jon here!

I can't help but notice, on this fine and overcast morning, the near constant tittering blurts of "TGIF!" echoing up and down the long gray rows of cubicles here at the day prison, the gasping voices tinged with equal parts desperation and a sickly relief, and that can only mean one thing... it's Friday! Yay! Which also means... it's New Blog Day! Double yay! Not only that, but the spinning bottle has finally wobbled its way down to a slow stop and it's pointing right at me again, so strap yourself in, you lucky ducks, because you're about to spend seven minutes in heaven with yours truly, no ifs, ands, or buts about it...

(wink)

The bad news is, I wrote something up just the other day on my own personal blog: This is Mine, mostly concerning the status of my current projects, so I'm a bit tapped out. Consternation, folks. Consternation has nearly been on my mind for almost the last day or so... what shall I blog about...

And then... inspiration struck! Suddenly, I recalled the little conversation the Gentleman Scribblerati had at the end of our last meet! We talked and we chatted, mostly concerning the status, level, consistency, and quality of our group in general (In short: Good!) and the effort that we've all put into obtaining that level, (in short: A lot!) and that put me in mind of a blog posted by Sci-fi writer and longtime blogger Jon Scalzi.

He put this up a few months back and it stirred some muck up and down the internet for a bit. It was funny watching the camps square off. One side agreed with him, the other most vehemently did not, offering a litany of excuses as to why, and in the end, somehow missed the irony, while a third side complained about the swearing. I fell in with the formers, as Scalzi's stance is really just a longer version of what I've decided, after taking various classes, meeting multiple authors, and reading countless blogs, is actually the only real, practical, and applicable piece of writing advice out there, the only real way to "become" a writer, which is...

The only way to "become" a writer

as learned by Jonathan Hansen

1. Sit down

2. Shut up

3. Pen to paper

4. Repeat

Everything else seems to be details which may or may not apply to your own personal situation. It seems like every author has started differently, they've learned differently, they've written differently, and they've edited differently. It seems like every one of them advises you to follow the querying guidelines and yet, it also seems like every one of them has specifically NOT followed those guidelines on occasion. Every person you talk to, every account you read, it's all different, except for one thing.

1. Sit down

2. Shut up

3. Pen to paper

4. Repeat

In short: If you don't have a product, no one's going to buy.

Here's Scalzi's blog. It's good and funny and profane and insightful, like most of his stuff. Go check it out, if for no other reason that he is current SFWA president. If you don't regularly read his blog or his books, you should.. I recommend Old Man's War, which has one of the best opening lines ever:

"I did two things on my seventy-fifth birthday. I visited my wife's grave. Then I joined the army."

Nice. Anyway, here's the link.

Whatever: Finding the time or don't.

Until next time, kids,

Jon

You are what you read (The Jon version)

Awhile back, as you long time readers will no doubt remember, my fellow Scribblerati Agent Mark Teats wrote a blog titled: “You are what you read”, listing some of his long time favorite and most personally influential authors. A fun and insightful read, I thought it was a fantastic idea, one I fully intended to copy as soon as it was my turn to blog again.

Then I forgot all about it.

I forgot a couple of times, in fact, but now—thanks Google Calendar!—I have remembered!

Let’s begin:

(And, of course, there are many other authors and books that I love, even though they are not included on this list, which is transient and appears here in no particular order. Mmm-kay?)

Some of My Favorites, a list by Jonathan Hansen

1. On the Road: Kerouac

There are some who have a problem with this book and its style. There are some who have issues with the culture he helped create (issues I share), but still, this book speaks to a part of me, to who I used to be, to who I wanted to be, and I’ll always love going back to read it again. It’s like visiting old friends and good times.

2. In Cold Blood: Capote

This last school photo of poor doomed Nancy Clutter still haunts me, as does the kind of runaway freight train inevitability of this book, the horrible tragedy and sadness of it all. I came to this book late in life and it simply dazzled me. It is fantastic, one of my very favorites. Capote writes the wide open spaces, perfectly realized, perfectly executed, it is brilliant. Brilliant.

3. Catcher in the Rye: Salinger

So much has been said about this book, about this author, about the culture and hype that surrounds it, that there is little that I can add, except: I read this in fourth or fifth grade and Holden Caulfield blew my mind—like out the top of my head, blew my mind. The quote: “People never notice anything.” That was it, man. In my young head… that was it.

4. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: Thompson

I think all young men of my particular ilk have a Thompson phase. I know I did, maybe still do. The trick is, once you can see the other side of it, is to not spend the rest of your life doing a poor imitation of the man’s signature wild man style... most are unable to do this and spend forever wallowing in mediocrity, because no doubt the man was a unique talent, one sorely missed these days. This here: “And that, I think, was the handle - that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of old and evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn't need that. Our energy would simply prevail. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look west, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark - that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back.” Brilliant.

5. Among the Thugs: Buford

Man, let me tell you—if you want crazy... Have you ever wondered what would happen when a man sucked another man’s eyeball out of his socket during a fight? No? Dudes... don’t read this book then. And that is only ONE of the crazy ass things these crazy ass, real life Man U fans actually did... in real life! They practically burned Juventus to the ground! Why? Because they were there! Amazing book! Amazing.

6. Lyonesse: Vance

As a kid, I was... restless... so Mom would ship me off during the summer. Sometimes, I would visit my Aunt in Los Angeles and she lived in a zombie proof fortress, kind of near Little Tokyo, on the corner of Crack Head Street and Staff Infection Avenue... so, I didn’t get to play outside much. It was always a fun visit, the loft was spacious and we did lots of fun stuff, but still, sometimes there was down time and LA had weird TV and I was like...9 and it’s not like I had brought a bunch of my toys and stuff with, so one day in a B Dalton, I wanted to buy a book. I picked one with a Green armored Knight riding a Purple striped Tiger and was like: “Oh hell yes, this one.” (Paraphrased). And my Aunt said: “But that’s number two... Here’s number one.” And she picked up this one:


“You should get the first one in the series.” And I said: “...” There was no denying the logic, so with slumped shoulders and a last longing look at the Tiger riding Knight, I got it (Holden Caulfield hadn’t taught me rebellion yet) and took it back to the Loft. Since then, I’ve probably read it two dozen times. I read my first version to pieces. The story of the slowly sinking Elder Isles, the invading Ska, the Sorcerer Murgen, and young Dhrun, poor Princes Suldrun, evil King Casmir and Prince Alias one day washing up on the beach is simply... Great. High Adventure. High Fantasy. Tons of characters. Jack Vance is a mad genius. It's a fantasy to be swept away in. It may have even been the first "real" book I read as a kid. I Loved it. It was way better than the purple Tiger book...

7. The Road: McCarthy

Cormac McCarthy is so good, I forgive his lack of quotation marks and dialogue designators. The Road and No Country for Old Man blur by, so spare and yet so richly illustrated, while Blood Meridian is a literary ass kicking. He is brutal and beautiful and his work is staggering. He is so good, it’s intimidating.

8. True Grit: Portis

I’ll make an admission... I’ve never seen this movie. I’ve heard it’s good and once I come across it on DVD, I’ll totally watch it, but yeah... never seen it. So I went into reading this with only a slight image of John Wayne in my head and honestly, this book is amazing. Amazing. It’s one of those books that came flying out of left field and landed in my lap and I was like: “Huh...” Nothing but fun and written like a house a’fire. A total blast. The most amazing part is how aware the book seems, how honest and insightful, all while maintaining the classic tropes of the Western. And now the Cohen Brothers are making it into a film that is supposed to be faithful to the book? Sweet...

9. The Stand: King

So, maybe I’ve mentioned this before, either here or over at my own blog, but I love comics and one of my favorite things to do as a kid was when I would go visit my Grandparents in Boone Iowa, I’d slip away at some point with all of my crumpled bills and handfuls of coins and walk to “downtown” Boone to visit the Hallmark store. In the back they had the biggest shelf of comics my used-to-the-spinner-rack eyes had ever seen. In a time before my first comic shop... this place was heaven and I would carefully count all of my money, so I could buy the most amount of comics available. It took some time, effort, and arithmetic, let me tell you (especially since I was reading all the ones I couldn’t buy), but anyway, after much deliberation, I picked up my stack and started toward the front when a cover stopped me dead... "wha..?":


An extra 400 pages?!?! 400!?!? Now, you need to understand, this book, Star Wars, and the Road Warrior (I still didn’t have the guts, at the time, to watch Night of the Living Dead), they had awaken me to storytelling, opened doors in my head and lit my mind on fire. An extra 400 pages!!! I'd already read the edited version, devoured it, so without pause, without a thought, I left my comics behind and used my money to buy this book. I still have it too. The covers are gone and the first few pages of the front and back, I know it well. This is an end of the world, multi character, Good vs. Evil masterpiece.

10. A Game of Thrones: Martin

Here’s my second admission: I hate fantasy. I love Tolkien, because he’s Tolkien, but all the deformed bastard children he’s whelped in the time since... ugh. Bloodless, sexless, lame half wits, lacking... EVERYTHING that could be considered good...ugh... I had given it up, man. I didn’t want any more. I was done. I mean, I’ve since discovered authors who write kick ass, fantastic fantasy with realistic characters and are good and awesome and well done, like Joe Abercrombie or Richard K. Morgan, for instance, but George here, he was the first one on that road for me with this fat, sprawling monster of a series where powerful houses vie for the throne while an ancient evil grows behind a 300 foot tall wall of ice. The best part of these books is the fear, absolute best part... any character can die in these books, any one of them, and he’s more than proven his willingness to kill, maim, or just generally run through the ringer any character you might think would normally be safe... Let me assure you, they are not. Fantastic books, huge, involving, well-written, they are hardcore. If the idea of what hitting someone with a mace would actually do makes you squeamish, then don’t read these. Seriously brutal. But brilliant. The only (potential) problem is that there’s supposed to be six books and only four are out right now, and it's been awhile, so George is at that tipping point most long term fantasy series authors find themselves at eventually, the point where the story may spiral out of control and never end—fingers are crossed that he is able to land this beast, especially because HBO is doing a series next year. A season per book! WOOOO!

Winter is coming.

I’m so excited.

Anyway, what are you reading?

Jon