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

Thanksgiving

Ah, the holidays. A time of gluttony and sloth and drunken vindictiveness. Take a deep breath, my friend, taste that rarefied air. It is truly the most wonderful time of the year. A time when family gathers around your edges like slavering wolves lurking just beyond the firelight. A time of crowds, seething and surging, a greasy tide of humanity smashing through the poorly maintained levees of good manners, drowning decent behavior, and swamping class and taste with a stagnant backwash of sweaty desperation, trapped within the gaudy confines of the Mall, damp and reeking. 

I'm just kidding, you're all wonderful, really.

So yeah... Thanksgiving. You know what I love? Cornbread stuffing. That is some good shit right there, my friends. If you haven't had it, I highly recommend rectifying that little error ASAP. There's still time, the groceries stores as of yet, are not completely looted. Just a friendly tip from me to you, amigo.

So... Holidays... Holi-DAZE, amirite? Know what I mean?

No? Well, allow me to explain.

With all the crazed running about of this time of year, with all the panic and petty anger and opportunistic backstabbing and what-not that looms over the next few days as we gather to "celebrate", there's one thing that always, inevitably, ultimately suffers.

What? No. Children? No. What the...?

Your WRITING. The answer is: Your writing.

Your writing always suffers during all the hub-bub and what-cha'doin' of this time of year. It gets lost in the shuffle. One day skipped becomes two, three, a week very easily. The holidays can be momentum killers and as we all know, forward momentum? That's your book right there, my friends. You gotta keep rolling, you gotta push, push, push to the end. Finish. When it comes to your first draft, it is of the utmost importance: Finish the story.

So what do you do?



Good question, Ponder Cat, what do you do? Well, here's 5 suggestions straight from my pie-hole.

1. Make time

Be a little bit selfish. Take some time for yourself Why not? The rest of the free world will be busy setting new records for selfish behavior, so who can judge you for taking an hour or two a day to scribble away in a corner somewhere? Here's a tip for those of you traveling out of town: Get a hotel room. Sure, it costs more than staying for free at a relative's house and sleeping in one of their ridiculously uncomfortable beds... or does it?

2. Adjust your expectations

Okay, your output is going to be lowered. You're probably not going to be able to pull off a 2000 word day for the next week or so. Accept it. It's not a big deal. Maybe you won't get chapters done, so what? Shoot for a few scenes instead. Family visits are nothing but Time Leeches, they will suck up every available moment and employ it towards their own horrible and twisted agenda, it's not the end of the world. Remember, my friends: Thanksgiving isn't forever, we'll make it.

3. Be prepared

Have your note book and pen ready. Have your tablet and laptop charged. Keep your Jump drive close. You may have to snatch moments where you can, so don't waste them hunting around for your stuff. Keep it with you.

4. Adapt

If you're one of those people who needs a perfectly balanced environment with the right chair and the right desk set up at exactly the right angle of slanting sunlight, with only one specific recording of a certain band with the volume just so and the perfect vase of very specific flowers perfectly arranged before you can actually set pen to paper and begin writing... then you're screwed. I can't help you. Get lost. And honestly, I question whether or not you really want to write and whether or not those conditions you set are actually roadblocks set up to act as excuses as to why you never seem to get anything written, except those first 25 pages you keep re-editing and re-editing...

But I digress--

Anyway, be ready to write not just when you can, but where you can. Is everyone watching football, snoring and farting away on the couch, and is that really the only place to sit? Then sit down. Write there. Tune the noise and distraction out. If you want to do it, if you want to write, here's your chance. Get some work done. Hey, at least they're all too busy to bother you, right?

5. Alternate progress
Ok, fine, maybe you can't settle in and relax enough for the ol' Imagination to properly kick in. Don't worry about it. No problem, it happens. But what about your plotting? How about some notes? Even just sitting there and thinking about stuff is something, right? (Although, I suggest you write your thoughts down, memory is not as reliable later as we believe it to be in the moment.) Snatches of dialogue, character bits, it's all important. This is what that little notebook you carry around with you everywhere is for.

Put it to use. Get to work.

And there you go...

Happy Thanksgiving!
Jon (and the rest of the Scribblerati, I assume.)

The Dog Days of the First Draft

They say the most important part of writing is to finish something.



That's it.

Edits? Critiques? Rewrites? Yes, that is all very important too, most definitely, but without actually finishing something, then what's the point, right? In the early stages, you have to keep that forward momentum going. You have to ignore the glaring faults. You have to ignore the inconsistencies. You have to ignore all those nagging doubts nipping at your heels like a pack of wolves looking to bring you down.

You have to finish. At least, that's what they say...

But it's not always that easy, you know?

No. In fact, it's really hard. Most people won't do it. Most people can't do it, because it's hard. It's hard to keep going when you know there are problems and there's no end in sight and it all feels just... terrible. 

Plot problems. Pacing problems. Inconsistent details. Unecessary characters. Things to add. Things to subtract. Unclear direction. Not enough description. Too much description. Questions of value and worth. Concerns about marketability. You should never write toward the market, but that doesn't mean you should be wasting your time on a dud project, right? And how do you know if it's a dud project or not? Questions, comments and concerns. It pokes at you. It slows you down and it can stop you cold. It threatens to take you out at the knees.

That's where I am right now, the middle of nowhere with a long way to go.

I'm working on my second book, so I've kind of touched on these ideas before. 

I've talked about starting over. I've talked about motivation. I am a little over halfway through the first draft now (at least, that's what my general plotting tells me), which means I am smack dab in the doldrums, slogging through a narrative quagmire as I try to bridge one part to the next, plagued with motivation and world detail questions, blah, blah, blah... right? It's maddening, but you have to ignore it and keep on keeping on, because as soon as you start editing and re-editing, and then editing some more, as soon as you start spinning your wheels, staring at that blank page and worrying about what comes next, as soon as you start fretting over value...

You're sunk.

You have to finish. I mean, really, what other choice do you have? Quit writing? No, you have to remember that it's supposed to be like this. After all, what's the common addendum to the Finish Something Rule:

But that's the sticking point, right?

I may know that I can come back, that I can fix it all later, but sometimes it is hard to keep that in mind. At times I feel like that room in my head filled with all the junk and scrap and bits and pieces that I drag out and hammer into the shape of my stories is pitch black and I am just stumbling around in there hoping to find my way. And sometimes it feels like that's not going to happen, that I'm just stumbling around in the dark. Lost. That's scary. It threatens the whole project.

I know my first book was a struggle. I know that. Thinking back on it now, it seems like it just kind of happened. One day: Poof! Book. Like I just wrote a few chapters, I planned ahead a bit, maybe changed my mind here and there, wrote a bit more when some stuff occurred to me and then it was done. Boom.

First draft finished, easy-breezy, lemon-squeezey!

That's a lie, of course, a recollection colored by fear and doubt and probably the failings of an aging mind, but still... When you're in the middle of it all, and that second draft is so far away, it's hard to remember that the first draft is an important tool. That it's just a frame work, a map to something better. It's hard to remember that the First Draft is just that, a First Draft, one of many and that it's not done.

And honestly, barreling ahead? That can often be the fun part. What happens next? It could be anything. It could be inspiring. It could be new and brilliant and twisty and awesome. It could change everything. What happens next? It could be amazing, yeah, but that fear and doubt reminds you that it could also be terrible.

But that's the rub, right? What happens next? To find out, you have to keep going. You have to finish, even if it might get ugly.

Keep writing,
Jon

When Do You Know It's Time To Move On?

I have lost track of the number of full revisions Once We Were Bears has gone through. Which is to say it has been uncountably many.

One of my New Year's Resolutions was to "move Beryl into the world." I'm quoting from the fragments of intentions I developed last January when I took advantage of a generous offer from my massage therapist: a free, New Year's yoga session for her clients. Some wicked challenging poses, a variety of thoughts on values, goals, and courage, and then space and silence and time to write.

In that stillness an image came to me: blackbirds flying.

I'm getting close to letting Beryl take flight, but I'm still holding on, fiddling with the small stuff before sending her out to Beta Readers. How small? Well, let's just leave it at the fact that I'm currently running a search for the word of. Yes. OF. (I use it a lot, and sometimes the line works better without it.) But seriously? Of?

So, yeah, I suppose it's about time for those birds to fly.

And what better time for blackbirds and endings and moving on than autumn?

-----

The opening image is the paper cut art of Nikki McClure, whose calendar I buy every year for myself and those close friends and family unable to make monthly use my bathroom in order to see the beauty she creates with a piece of paper and an X-acto knife.

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

How to Pitch Your Story

I’m a firm believer in taking advantage of opportunities as they arise. And what could be better than an opportunity to sit down across the table from someone who has the potential to make your dreams come true and take your shot?

That’s exactly what I did last weekend at the Madison Writer’s Institute http://www.dcs.wisc.edu/lsa/writing/awi/

Part of this conference, like many writing conferences out there, were optional “pitch” sessions with a half-dozen literary agents. These sessions cost extra ($15 each) for the 8-minute session you got to spend with each respective agent. During registration you were limited to only two such sessions—which from the sounds of it filled up early.

Prep Work

Before the conference I had done my best to have some materials ready for the agents I was going to talk with. I spent hours trying to whittle down my synopsis to only a couple pages (epic fail), tried to have a page that explained my book’s concept, my bio and next project, and also brought a sample chapter along. I think all of this was good prep work, and it was nice to have something for me to refer to during the pitch sessions, but for the purposes of the agents I could have left it all behind. The agents didn’t want it—their preference was to receive everything by e-mail.

When is a Manuscript Done?

I heard the story recently of American writer, David Guterson, sitting around his house doing edits on his printed/published book Snow Falling on Cedars—just toying with it, seeing if there was anything that could be improved—for his own purposes. I just completed my 3rd edition of my novel BLACKHEART, and immediately I’m ready to do revision 4. Before ever signing up for this conference I asked myself if my book was ready to be seen by agents. I decided “yes.” That doesn’t mean that revision 4 still won’t happen…

A Sleepless Night

I had signed up for the pitch sessions months before when I signed up for the conference—and I hadn’t felt nervous about them at all consciously—until the night before they were scheduled. At about 3:30AM I woke up, realizing that I was going over specific plot points of my novel BLACKHEART in my head, preparing, preparing, preparing. My mind kept going over each great part of my book that I wanted to share—and also the parts I did not want to bring up (multiple POV, a couple chapters that still need tightening, etc). I would have preferred a good night’s sleep.

Important advice: Know your agent(s).

When I signed up for these agent pitch sessions I had done my best to pick the couple that seemed most likely to handle the type of work that I want to sell. My novel is “horror” so I definitely wanted to talk with agents who handled genre fiction. Imagine my disappointment during the conferences opening introductions when I heard one of the agents I was scheduled to meet later that day say, “I sell everything but horror.” L

Batter up…

There were two rooms dedicated to “pitching.” When I arrived a young woman with a timer and a checklist stood between the two rooms acting as gatekeeper. “They’re running a couple minutes behind,” I was informed. I gave her my name and waited with the other half-dozen or so authors all milling around nervously, waiting for their turns. We compared notes: What is your book about? Who are you meeting with? Is this your first pitch session? And so on and so on. As we waited other authors came out of the rooms, showing a variety of emotions: relief, disappointment, elation.

“You can go in,” I was told.

Eight Minutes in Heaven

Agent A was very upfront when I asked him to clarify if he carried horror. “No. And I’ll tell you the reason why. I only have two or three places I can try to sell it—then I’m out of options.” I asked if he minded me trying my pitch on him. “Go for it,” he said, but clarified, arms crossed, “But no matter how good it is I won’t be able to represent you.” I gave it my best shot.

What I learned about the opening to my novel BLACKHEART is that it is awesome to adapt for a dramatic pitch. When the book opens my main character Clay is seated at a bloody table between two corpses—across from him, peering out of the darkness is the hulking and horribly scarred badass Blackheart. As I gave my pitch I lay my head on the table, explained how Clay wakes up, how he’s handcuffed to the chair, how his gun sits on the table just out of reach, how the SWAT team is beating on the doors and windows that won’t be broken down on this creepy little home, how Clay has to kill Blackheart or watch his friend get gunned down. In many ways I was able to act the part of Clay to the agent’s Blackheart, each of us across the pitching table from each other. It was fun, and no pressure. After all, the guy had already told me he couldn’t represent me.

“So, what do you think?” I asked Agent A.

“It sounds like a great story—but I can’t sell it,” he said.

“Do you know anyone who can?” I asked.

“Get out a pen,” Agent A said. He gave me the name of one of his associates who he thinks might like a story like mine. He said I should use his name. Awesome.

Eight (no make that ten) Minutes in Hell

About an hour later I was back at the pitching room door, loitering outside with the other authors, comparing notes on previous sessions. The timer sounded, gatekeeper girl told me to go inside.

Agent B and I shook hands. She said she enjoyed meeting writers—most of her 20+ clients she has right now from all over the world she has never met. Agent B was also kind enough to clarify for me that she did agent horror. Woo hoo! This pitch session was off to a much better start.

I one again acted out the opening scene and the shootout between Clay and Blackheart. I realized this time I was a bit more nervous, that I was omitting some subtle details I’d done a better job telling in pitch session 1. No matter… time was ticking away. Agent B listened intently, leaning across the table, wide eyed, nodding her head. Occasionally she’d ask a question. “What happens next?” “How does it end?” “We’re actually out of time… but go on.” I went through each turning point as best I could, grossly over-simplifying my 450 page book. When it was over I asked her, “So do you want to see more?” “Yes,” said Agent B. “E-mail me your first three chapters.” J

So did I get my $30 worth of agent time? Hell yeah. I got to explain my book to two literary agents who are in the business of selling fiction—with positive feedback. I also had a request to see more of my manuscript from one agent, and a lead I can pursue in the future from the other. Will these meetings ultimately help me sell my manuscript? That remains to be seen. But I definitely enjoyed the experience and the whole process definitely put me in a mind frame to understand my story better, from the perspective of someone who might want to buy it.

Advice for Pitching Your Story?

From my experience all I can say is have your manuscript as complete as it can be, know your story as well as you can, rehearse if you have the time, and try to meet with agents who sell your genre of material. After that I like to just think it’s either meant to be or it’s not.

Happy Writing.