Friday, January 7, 2011

Halfway There (maybe)

At the second dramatic point I realized that I need to condense and collapse the three subsequent scenes into one long scene in order to heighten the drama and introduce some new ones.  This effort expanded, and then reduced, the number of scenes back to the twenty I'd started with, although they are no longer the twenty in their original form.


To get a quick appraisal of the first quarter, I lightly edited it for my forthcoming writers' group meeting where the other professionals will probably rip it to shreds (at least, that is my hope.)  Their observations have never failed to improve my writing with their sometimes pointed observations and occasionally inadvertent prompting a of anew thought.

This morning, after a sudden flurry of furious word-smithing, I managed to reach the projected halfway point, wordcount-wise.  A quick review of the second quarter indicates that I am writing a somewhat different story than I set out to accomplish, that is, the same tale but one that needs to be told differently.

If this piece follows my usual writing pattern I'll break down the completed first draft into smaller scenes (which is easy with the Scivener tools) and then begin the arduous process of rearranging theses into a coherent whole. Of course that will only set the stage for the second draft.

Thus far I seem to be on track with the original plan and hope that it continues to proceed smoothly.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Progress (or not)

Now that I'm nailing words to the wall a strange process of discovery is taking place.  After investing so much effort into research and the seemingly endless chore of moving scenes and plot points around to where I thought best I imagined that putting the words into the rather complete outline would be a simple matter, more of getting the phrasing and pace right than figuring out what to say.

The first scene went well, as did the second.  During the third scene I realized that there was something I should have explained earlier in the first, which meant adding a line or two in the second.  That reminded me of a research extract I wanted to use, but further on.  At some points I wondered whether to inform the reader through exposition or let them figure it out themselves?  Explaining too much would burden the story and probably bore the reader.  Too little and the density of facts would make the tale incomprehensible.  Should I assume that most readers already know this or that? I put the question aside for the moment.

The next scene went pretty much the same, with infrequent trips back to make some adjustment or other, links for continuity, or correct something I'd said that would no longer work out and inserting brief exposition where a fact was not clear from the context.  The narrative was rolling along so well that I just went with the flow, merrily throwing sentences out and getting more into the protagonist's head.

Five scenes in and panic stuck:  I had ten thousand words and had fifteen more scenes to go.  At this rate the story was going to go well beyond the plan and no longer the short story I'd originally set out to write.  Would the longer form mean that starting the story close in time to the epiphany might no longer work?  Should I rearrange the outline, recast the dramatic points, and in general, rethink the entire architecture I'd established?

I reviewed my assets, the things I'd written so far and realized that those scenes already written were composed of small vignettes that might be independent of their current placement.  If I separated them from their current locations I might be able to inject them into some as yet undesigned narrative as backstory, flashback, or dialogue.  This would eliminate the need for a continuous time flow of back story in the early part.

Perhaps, but that decision will come later.  For now I will continue to plow along to put words into the original scene outlines, see how the narrative develops, and whether the same rate of words-per-scene continues to the end.  I am going to reassess everything when I get to scene eight, the imagined half-way point.

Stay tuned for further news of this experiment.

Friday, December 31, 2010

Writing, at last!

Research books and Scrivener
A few months ago I had a story proposal accepted - a two page summary of the plot and character(s) in a universe with which I was not familiar. I read one story fromt he series to get the universe's concept and then wrote the proposal for the kind of story I like to do. The proposal was accepted and with a deadline.

In general, I set out to write a story with only a vague notion of where it might go, but in this case I had an actual sketch of the plot in the proposal. I broke my proposal into sentences and initially designated each sentence as a scene ( use Scrivener, but any outlining tool would work as well.) These scenes were then shifted around to see which could be combined, which might stand alone, and where additional detail was needed.

That done, I put the scenes aside and began reading a number of books in the series, making copious notes along the way, bookmarking explanatory passages I could -er- adopt to my own ends, getting familiar with the language and tropes, and selecting interesting events and characters I could reference for those who might be obscenely familiar with the series oeuvre.

The next step was to pour my newly aquired knowledge into the existing scenes, add new material that occurred while researching, and then rearrange the material into a more nuanced plot. Considerable cutting and pasting moved ideas between scenes, combined some scenes and divided others. At some point the number of scenes seemed to stabilize at twenty.

One of the theories of writing says that you should have no more than three key plot points and these should occur at significant changes in the protagonist's story. That they should have a high emotional content as well goes without saying. I examined the scenes, decided which scenes would best express this, and then placed the key scenes in their proper places.

Since this was to be a short story, the narrative's time line ideally has to start shortly before the epiphany, which we will see near the end. One of the consequences of the scenes' rearrangement was that what I first planned to be a straightforward narrative now had to contain flashbacks so we could read those actions and forces that brought the protagonist to the story's critical point. This decision lead to another round of rearrangement, scene cutting, and pasting. Further research entailed until finally, and more from impatience than design, I was able to actually start composing the story told in my notes to fulfilling the promise of the proposal.

After three weeks of preparation, research, and plotting I began. I am now in the writing phase of the project and joyfully laying down the words at a prodigious (for me, anyhow) rate, amassing nearly five thousand words without straining brain or fingertips. Instead of trying to write sequentially, I've been putting narrative and dialogue into the scenes where I felt more stylistically comfortable. At times, I cut a portion that I'd just written and put in another scene or set aside to be used elsewhere.

Thus far, putting in the research and plotting effort seems to be paying off, but I will withhold judgement on this approach until the tale is told.

Stand by for further reports. I intend to update this blog when I finish the first draft.

Friday, December 24, 2010

interviews

The other week I was interviewed by Patrick Hester and John DeNardo for an SF Signal podcast. They sent me a general list of items they wanted to cover before setting up the time and place, which, since we set this up on Skype, turned out to be my office, but minus the video.

I wanted to get decent sound quality so I deadened as many hard surfaces around the computer with towels and blankets to eliminate the bucket effect, closed the door so the cats couldn't crawl around and possibly knock something over ( yes, I do have a clumsy cat.) When we got connected Patrick did a sound check, during which I scraped a chair across the floor and ruined the take.

The half hour interview went well, from my point of view. I'd learned in the past that if you don't want to sound like a brainless idiot you prepare a checklist of items to cover and whatever notes you need in case memory fails. Nothing more embarrassing then to forget the title of some piece you wrote or the name of the character under discussion. Since my memory is like a steel trap (i.e. doesn't hold water) I made LOTS of notes.

John and Patrick made the conversation easy, hitting not only the points I'd prepared for, but bringing up material I hadn't thought of before. The feel of the interview was not unlike a bull session at a con. It was so comfortable that we chatted for at least a half hour afterwards about writing, the industry, cons, and other subjects. Nice guys.

The SF Signal podcast was released on December 22, 2010 at SF Signal #122. I was very satisfied with the result, especially that I didn't sound too egotistical or dumb.

Monday, November 22, 2010

Ten Stages of Story Development

This is a totally pretentious, self-referential blog that probably will have little relevance to the manner in which you prefer to write. Nevertheless, I want to get down the method that I have found most useful.

Step 1: Concept.
All stories start with the germ of an idea, a thought, or perhaps just an interesting title,first line, or ending. This germ sometimes forms the basis for a story which, after a few hours or days becomes so strong that I have no choice but to commit it to "paper." This leads me into:

Step 2: Drafting

Drafting is simply noodling with the idea, getting whatever comes to mind regarding the idea down into editable form. This step might produce a bit of characterization, a setting description, an interesting plot point, a pencil sketch of a gadget, or even a bit of the story itself, be it narrative flow or dialogue. The point here is to get whatever you can - a few thousand words, perhaps - into a form that you can review and consider before committing to:

Step 3: Plotting

Plotting is deciding what goes into the story. Have you all the pieces you need yet? What might be missing? Examine what your noodling has produced and decide if all the elements needed for a complete story are there. Do you have the set-up to lead the reader into the story? Do you know what the ending will say? Have you thought of a way to develop the exposition? Do you have an idea for the characters? Do you have all the "facts" you need? If the answer is yes then you are ready to start:

Step 4: Arranging

This step is simply rearranging the scenes you've produced into some semblance of order, hopefully an arrangement that reveals what might be missing e.g. how to get from here to there. There is no simple answer as to how to do this. The final story sequence is not yet important so long as some logical order of the story elements emerges. If you have no idea of what might work then try a simple chronological order. Hopefully, this step will reveal more missing pieces that you'll need to add before you start:

Step 5: Production

Yes, this is more noodling, but this time only to fill in the blanks, be they facts, transitions,or bits of dialogue. While doing this I usually go over earlier material and make necessary changes,additions,etc wherever I see the need. This step produces a rough draft that must then undergo:

Step 6: Polishing and Smoothing

This is where the writer parses the sentences so that they sing, eradicating false notes in the narrative and correcting the "wrong" voices in the dialogue. Grammar and spelling are corrected in this step as well. Once the polishing and smoothing are completed you will have the penultimate draft, one which is mechanically suitable for publication. That is, if you don't want to start:

Step 7: Re-Arranging.

Maybe the best way to tell this story isn't what you originally thought. You might want to play with the time line or move the scenery about to make the epiphany or ending more (or less) profound. Maybe you don't want the murder to take place first but be developed later in the tale. Maybe some plot element would work better as backstory, or maybe a bit of foreshadowing should be added. You should always feel free to play with the story sequence if nothing more than to see what happens. I once committed scenes to cards and the shuffled them to reveal a more interesting order than I was working with. Play around and see what comes before you start:

Step 8: Layering

This is the enjoyable step where you add little bits of detail here and there; adding some symbolism if you wish. Layering is just like decorating the Christmas tree with tinsel. A word of caution: a light touch usually works best.

Step 9: Final Polish

Going over the finished draft with an objective eye is necessary. You have become so familiar with the story by this time that you cannot, will not, be able to see the glaring flaws. Put the printed draft aside for few days so you can return with fresh eyes and make corrections. Reading the story aloud to yourself often helps.

Step 10: Submission

No story is complete until it is published and that will never happen unless it is sent to an editor for consideration. Always assume that the first few submissions will be rejected and be prepared to send it out again the instant a rejection arrives. Persistence is frequently successful but understand that rejection is a fact of the writer's life.

Monday, November 1, 2010

Impressions of World Fantasy 2010

As a hard science fiction writer my attendance at conventions has been limited to those focusing mainly on SF, not Fantasy. After all, what possible benefit could I, a hard SF short story writer, get from a freaking Fantasy - for Gods sake - convention? Nobody in that crowd could possibly know me. Worse yet, I feared that I wouldn't know anyone among all the fey folk who would probably be sporting dragons on their shoulders, wearing fairy wings, and lurking about in capes.

Not my sort of thing at all!

So, much to my surprise when I arrived at Columbus I immediately run into four writer friends, who I vaguely recalled were into this fantasy crap. Then there were two more people I'd spoken to at other cons but who I'd imagined were SF writers, not fairy dusters. Maybe they were local, I thought. Probably got comped as well.

Rising early the next morning I found Ester, the WFC GoH, the only early riser in the hotel restaurant who engaged me in a quick lesson on WFC. "It's a fucking BUSINESS meeting," she ever so charmingly said over coffee. At which point a coven of agents and editors, some of whom I knew, but mostly did not, magically materialized. At registration there were more familiar faces, and then more, and more until it finally dawned on my that most of the attendees were WRITERS. Not a dragon among them, not a pair of fairy wings nor wicked capes polluted the convention center. Staggering away from the registration desk with fifty pounds of free books and assorted paraphernalia I ran into some more friends, and then even more.

The first session was a revelation for it was packed by writers, which made for an interesting dynamic, both from the aspect of demeanor and the types of questions being asked, all far different from the fannish type I so frequently encounter at other conventions. That impression was only strengthened by succeeding panels and readings - OMG, the readings! The readings were wonderful! As a fantasy virgin I was swept away by hearing the words coming from the author's own heart, hearing the voice of the stories unfold the way the writer intended, with emphasis at all the right places. Never had I imagined so much richness and, even though much of it was not to my personal reading taste, I was nevertheless impressed.

At the end of the day the bar area turned into an oriental bazaar of haggling and bargaining. A deafening roar of people excitedly exchanging ideas, passing rumors, making requests, and performing all the business of writing heartily, all of which was enthusiastically lubricated by wicked, eldritch drinks. Subject matter aside, WFC was turning out to be disturbingly like so many regular business conferences I'd attended through my corporate career. To the casual passers-by the crowd would appear to seem like any other gathering of mundanes, while they remained unknowing of the magical spells being cast by agents and editors, publishers and writers. Neither would they be sensitive to the heroic battles being waged to gain the prize of significant attention.

Did I mention parties? Oh lord, emerging from the elevator on the party floor you find yourself immediatly shoulder to shoulder with writers on every level and, in the rooms where liquid refreshment beckons like sirens, you find yourself talking to someone who just made SFWA's qualification and, turning around, enter a conversation with one of the giants of the field who is as excited and interesting as everyone else. Hallway conversations include WFC, Hugo, Nebula, Endevour, etc, etc award winners talking about the business, future, and problems of our singularly hermitic life styles. It is like dying and going to the Valhalla of writers.

I drove away from Columbus too soon, leaving so many ungreeted, so many discussions not concluded, and so little work being done: I usually finish a couple of pages at cons in my spare time, but not here, not where so many tempting distractions lurked at every turn. But every good thing ends and the long drive home gave me an opportunity to recover from the three-day adrenaline rush and sort out the actual business that I'd realized I'd practically accidentally conducted with editors, enough potential work to keep me busy for a few more months.

Oh, I almost forgot to mention it. I really, really, really, really freaking enjoyed WFC!!!

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Capclave Recap

This year's Capclave was rather more interesting than most. It was as if all my writer friends had gathered for this one occasion. My reading was well attended, although in part because Morrow preceded me with a wonderful extract of his latest work. My reading took exactly 30 minutes, which left no time for comments or questions, but that was fine. The crowd reaction as I read told me all I needed to know. The pick-up lunch with Connie Willis, Michael Swanwick, John Hemry, John Wright, and L.G Lamplighter was fun, although I was thoroughly im-Palined by Connie. Two readings and and three panels filled the afternoon, followed by the mass signing event where all the writers in attendance sat around while Connie's line snaked around the room. All in all a most satisfactory con.