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Is ‘Write a Novel’ on Your Bucket List?

Have you created a bucket list, and decided you’d like to write a novel before you kick the bucket? Before you commit to that, we need to talk.

First, although I don’t have a bucket list myself, I like the concept. What a great way to take charge of the rest of your life, to seize the remaining days and bend them to your will, to enjoy the wonders of being alive in this world at this time.

I think your attitude toward your list is important, though. You shouldn’t consider your life a failure if you don’t cross off every item. As Robert Browning said, your reach should exceed your grasp.

Most bucket lists contain items that can be thought of as events, or one-time experiences. In the 2007 movie, “The Bucket List,” the characters’ list items included going skydiving, flying over the North Pole, visiting the Taj Mahal, going on an African safari, and visiting Mount Everest. Those types of list items are fine; it’s a good idea to experience what our world has to offer.

However, writing a novel isn’t like that at all. It’s been said that writing a novel is a one-day event. As in, “one day, I’ll write a novel.” Unless you sign up for something like Nanowrimo or the 3-day novel contest, writing a novel normally takes many months.

Further, there’s a significant difference between listing ‘write a novel’ and ‘get a novel published.’ Attaining publication is much harder than just writing a novel for your own enjoyment.

True, there’s a great feeling of accomplishment in writing “The End” after your novel’s first draft, and I imagine an ecstatic feeling at seeing your own novel in print, but both of those feelings are preceded by many long, solitary hours/days/weeks/months of writing. Just in case you didn’t know that.

In short, writing a novel is probably unlike other items on your bucket list. It’s less like ‘visit the Grand Canyon’ or ‘see a show on Broadway’ and more like ‘learn dentistry’ or ‘become a rock star.’ In other words, be prepared for a major time-suck.

So, you understand all that but have decided to keep ‘write a novel’ on your bucket list anyway? You’re that determined? Great! I say, go for it. I wish you luck. Remember, if you are able to get your novel published, that work of creativity will survive your own death. If it’s good enough, it could even become a classic and live on forever. Even the work of a sculptor doesn’t survive as long, for stone eventually wears away, but the words of a book can be reprinted endlessly.

If you’ve made a bucket list, I’d love to hear about it, whether or not writing a novel made your list. Let me know by leaving a comment. Be assured that ‘one day,’ a novel will be written by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

June 23, 2013Poseidon's ScribePermalink

Ordering a (Writer’s) Retreat

Planning a writer’s retreat, are you? Already looking forward to that free weekend, or even a full week, away from the stress of work, away from the chores of home? A few days away from everything, with time to devote purely to writing.

So much time! Why, you’ll be able to finish up that novel. You might even knock off a short story or three. Do some new characters sketches for the novel’s sequel, and lay out the plot line. Polish up some query letters.

By now you’ve spotted the signs of a ‘lower your expectations’ lecture. But it’s easy, when you only have spare minutes or a rare uninterrupted hour during your normal life, to imagine how much more you could get done with a whole day or more at your disposal.

Did you ever stop and think that those odd spare minutes are the right amount of writing time for you? Is it possible that more time would not result in more writing? Parkinson’s Law states that “work expands to fill the time allotted to it.” One corollary of that law is, “The amount of time available to perform a task is the amount of time it will take to complete the task.” Or, as a coworker of mine phrases it, “If you put off a task until the last minute, it will only take a minute.”

In theory, it’s true that you should get more writing done if you have more time, such as during your upcoming retreat. Understand, I’m not opposed to writer’s retreats, just unrealistic expectations for them. Definitely go on the retreat. Before you do, compile a list of things to get done, a long list. Go ahead and make big plans, set stretch goals. But don’t kick yourself too hard if you fall short.

After all, you’ve trained yourself (in effect) to write in short bursts, and you’ve acclimated to that mode now. During your retreat, you may find yourself needing a break after just an hour of writing. Your mind will wander. You’ll find excuses to do other things. That is the pattern you’ve set, the habit you’ve made.

I suggest you make use of that habit. Here’s a way to use it to your advantage during your retreat. Consider making a list of many different writing tasks you want to do. The more different from each other, the better. Then, while you’re at your retreat site, spend a half hour on the first task. Bring a timer or alarm to inform you when the time’s up. After that half hour, take a five minute break, during which you stand up, walk around, stretch, etc. Then tackle the second task on your list for a half hour and so on.

Since you’ve accustomed yourself to working in short bursts, make the retreat a long, repeating series of short bursts. You may find that method works for you.

One more thing about retreats. In the weeks leading up to the planned date of the retreat, I urge you not to put off things. Don’t say, “I’ll do that writing task during my retreat.” If you find yourself doing that, you might follow it up by asking why you’re putting off the task. Why not do it now?

In fact, what’s so special about a retreat anyway? Why not consider every minute spent writing as a sort of mini-retreat right in your own home?

You might feel differently about writer’s retreats. If so, please leave a comment and let me have it, metaphorically. In the meantime, off to a mini-retreat in his own home goes—

Poseidon’s Scribe

June 16, 2013Poseidon's ScribePermalink

The Truth About “A Tale More True”

Gypsy Shadow Publishing just launched my newest story, “A Tale More True” and I’m excited about it. Here’s the blurb:

History’s greatest liar, a colossal clockwork spring, a fantastic trip to the Moon…in 1769. Read it, but don’t expect truth.

What made me write a clockpunk alternate history story about an 18th Century trip to the moon? As both of my many fans know, I’m a great admirer of Jules Verne, who wrote a classic tale called From the Earth to the Moon.

One day I was searching the web about fictional trips to the moon and discovered Verne was a bit of a latecomer to that topic. Here are some of his predecessors, and the methods they used to get their characters to the moon, according to this website:

• Lucian of Samosata, True History, 2nd Century A.D. Carried to the moon by a waterspout/whirlwind, and Icaromenippus, 2nd Century A.D. Flew to the moon in an aerial carriage.
• Johannes Kepler, The Dream, 1634. Transported to the moon by aerial demons.
• Bishop Francis Godwin, The Man in the Moone, 1638. Pulled to the moon by trained geese.
• Cyrano de Bergerac, Comic History of Estates and Empires of the Moon, 1650. Launched to the moon by firecrackers.
• Daniel Defoe, The Consolidator, 1705. Rode an ‘engine’ called The Consolidator.
• Vasily Kevshin, Newest Voyage, 1784. Flew to moon in a self-constructed flying apparatus.
• Wilhelm Kuchelbecker, Land of Acephals, 1824. Flew in a balloon.
• Edgar Allan Poe, The Unparalleled Adventure of One Hans Pfaall, 1835. Flew in a balloon equipped with an air compressor.

I was struck by the fact that no one had written about going to the moon using spring power. During the 1600s and 1700s, they knew about the energy-storage properties of springs, the driving force in most clocks, so I thought someone should write that story.

During the research I also happened upon the interesting historical figure, Baron Hieronymus Carl Friedrich von Münchhausen, well known for his fanciful fibs, including tall tales about making two trips to the moon. In one trip he climbed a tall beanstalk, and in the second a hurricane lifted his ship up to the moon. I wondered if a rival of the Baron might be upset by these lies and might set about to prove Münchhausen wrong.

That’s how “A Tale More True” was born.

Subsequently I happened upon this website, and learned that David Russen had written A Voyage to the Moon in 1703, in which a giant spring is used to reach the moon. Oh, well, I wasn’t the first after all!

For you engineers and realists out there, yes, I know a human would not survive the acceleration of being ‘sprung’ to Earth’s escape velocity. However, it might be possible to construct a huge spring within a cylinder, have the spring drawn down in compression, draw a near vacuum in the cylinder, and launch a solid, unmanned projectile to escape velocity. Why you’d want to do that, I have no idea, but it might be possible.

Still, it’s fun to imagine someone building a giant spring in 1769 and travelling to the moon two centuries early. And as long as I was changing history anyway, I figured I’d also change the moon. In most of those early space-travel stories, (except Verne’s), the moon was inhabited. So why not populate the moon in my story?

And, though it’s outside my normal line, why not make the story humorous?

Anyway, enough said. The book has been sprung upon an unsuspecting world, and is available at Gypsy Shadow Publishing, Amazon, Smashwords, and other outlets as well. You’ll enjoy it, thinks—

Poseidon’s Scribe

June 9, 2013Poseidon's ScribePermalink

Does Blogging Help Your Writing?

If you’re thinking of starting up a blog as a way to improve the quality of your fiction writing, I’m here to tell you—blogging will have just as much effect on your golf swing.

My answer is different if you write non-fiction. Well-written blogs are like essays, with the same structure and purpose. The skills needed are the same.

For fiction writers, there’s very little in common between your stories and your blog posts. The talents you develop doing one won’t translate well to the other.

It’s even possible for blogging to worsen your fiction writing. Certainly it’s cutting into your productivity, at least. Each precious minute spent blogging is sixty seconds lost and unavailable for writing fiction.

Also, let’s say you become an expert in all the aspects of blogging, able to craft persuasive, short essays with well-researched facts, finely structured arguments, and logical conclusions. It’s possible for that ‘lecturing voice’ to worm its way into your fiction, and you don’t want that.

Am I telling you, the beginning fiction writer, not to blog? No, I’m just helping you set expectations; blogging won’t make your fiction better. But there are several valid reasons for fiction authors to blog:

It helps enforce schedule discipline, and to associate deadlines with writing. This is only true if you post to your blog on a regular basis. Whether you write fiction or non-fiction, getting to ‘The End’ is important.
It’s a form of self-education. When I come across an idea for a future blog entry, I add it to my list, (which is quite long now). When I look to see what topic is scheduled for any particular week, I find it generally involves a bit of research. So while blogging about the craft of writing, I’m coming across knowledge I can use.
The best reason for a fiction writer like you to blog, though, is to build your platform, increase your web presence, and connect with readers.

Blog if you want to, but don’t go into it thinking it’ll make your fiction better. For those of you who disagree, that’s what the comment feature is for. Please comment and let your views be known to the world and to—

Poseidon’s Scribe

June 2, 2013Poseidon's ScribePermalink

Prioritizing the Markets

What’s that? You say you’ve finished writing a story but you’re not sure which market to send it to first? It can be confusing, selecting among all the markets listed on Duotrope and Ralan and other similar sites.

Every writer makes these choices differently, so I’ll just share my method and the reasons for it. As always, you’re free to do as you wish.

First, prepare yourself mentally for the probability—the near certainty—of rejection. I’ve already discussed how to deal with rejection. My purpose now is to get you to make a prioritized list of markets you intend to send the story to, with the understanding that, most likely, the story won’t be snapped up by the first one.

How do you make this prioritized list? If you wrote the story in response to an announced anthology, then the anthology would top your list. After that, I recommend going in order of highest-paying market to lowest based on searches of sites like Duotrope or Ralan. Each market on the list should be appropriate, in the sense that they’re asking for stories of the type that yours is. Don’t waste your time or some editor’s by sending to a market for which your story isn’t suited.

Why am I suggesting the order be based on payment? I suspect some of you are objecting that, as a beginning writer, your story couldn’t possibly be good enough for the highest-paying markets, so why start with them?

My response is—have some faith in your story. I’ve said before that editor’s reasons for rejecting your stories have everything to do with how the story clicks with them, how it matches what they’re looking for, and the quality of the writing. Their reasons have nothing to do with you personally.

The flip side of that should be obvious. An editor’s reasons for accepting a story have to do with the same criteria, and the writing quality is the only one of those criteria within your control. They don’t necessarily know you’re a raw beginner. It’s every editor’s dream to latch onto a beginning writer who shows considerable talent; they all want to be in at the start of a best-selling author’s career. All famous authors started out as beginners, tentatively sending out their work and wondering if it was good enough.

Wouldn’t it be a shame if you sent your story to a semi-pro, or token market, not knowing that a pro market would have accepted it? That’s why I say to aim high, then with each rejection, work your way down.

Later, as you gain experience and have some publication credits, you may establish relationships with one or more markets. At that point, those publishers may well move to the top of your market listings. Considerations other than payment alone may drive your priorities.

I welcome your comments about the advice I’ve offered. If you follow it and get your first story approved at a pro market, one person you should be sure to thank is—

Poseidon’s Scribe

May 26, 2013Poseidon's ScribePermalink

Pantzers vs. Plotters

One of the ways writers differ is in the type of preparation work they do before the first draft. Some, called pantzers, write that draft “from the seat of their pants.” Plotters, by contrast, organize and lay out their story’s plot and characters within some sort of outline before writing one word of the story.

These two approaches might be epitomized by two zodiac signs, and the personality traits attributed to each. Aries is characterized by impulsiveness and rushing right ahead—a pantzer. Virgo is characterized by analysis and careful prior thought—a plotter. Astrology is bunk, of course, but that comparison gave me an image for this blog entry.

Which type are you? Is one approach better than the other?

Here are some advantages the pantzers claim:

I write stories faster, without having to do all that preparatory work first. While the plotter is still doing her careful outline, I’m a quarter done with my first draft.
My writing has a sense of spontaneity, of natural flow; since I don’t know what is going to happen next, neither do my readers.
I’ve learned to trust my instincts. I’ll figure out which way to go when I get there. The story has its own direction, and I’ll figure it out.
I write with a feeling of freedom, without having added a constricting, constraining outline. If I used an outline, I’d feel like I shackled myself.

But the plotters counter with the benefits of their method:

I dispute the pantzers claim of writing faster. I think plotting helps me avoid getting stuck.
Good prior planning helps me avoid the kind of re-writing pantzers do to add in earlier parts so the later parts make sense.
Without a plot outline and some character sketches, I’d lose focus, forget where I’m going, and write aimlessly.
I write with a sense of comfort knowing I’ve got things all planned out.

I suspect this is really a sort of spectrum, a continuum of ways to write, and that very few people are really located at the extreme ends. That is, I suspect pantzers do a little bit more pre-plotting than they’re willing to admit, even if the organization is not written down. For their part, plotters aren’t always so wedded to their outlines as they think; they’ll deviate if the story takes off in a different direction as they write.

Further, authors may well move back and forth along that spectrum as their career progresses. They may even find some stories require more pre-planning than others, so they become adept at both methods. My guess—and it’s only a guess—is that among the more accomplished and prolific authors there are more pantzers than plotters. I think they’ve developed sufficient writing skills so they no longer need a written outline and have come to trust their abilities in avoiding, or writing their way out of, plot problems.

As for me, I’m further over toward the plotter side, though I’ve been exhibiting pantzer tendencies lately. Those who adhere to the snowflake method of writing are definite plotters. Most of the writing software packages out there are dedicated to plotters. Pantzers would find the snowflake and such writing software quite frustrating.

So, in this battle of pantzers vs. plotters, who wins? Naturally, you do! You can choose how to write your stories in the manner that suits you best. You can change that method later if you want, depending on what ends up working for you. Please leave me a comment letting me know whether you’re a pantzer or a plotter, and why. It’s okay to share your secret with the Internet, and with—

Poseidon’s Scribe

May 21, 2013Poseidon's ScribePermalink

15 Writing Virtues

Many people believe you aren’t just stuck with the way you are now, that you can better yourself by persistent act of will. I’m one of them, but let me just focus on self-help as it applies to the writing of fiction.

Benjamin Franklin was an early example of someone who developed a program of self-improvement. His method was to list thirteen virtues along with a brief description, then he would set about to focus on one virtue per week. Franklin actually kept a log of this, giving himself a black mark on days he fell short. Presumably, by focusing on one virtue at a time, it did not mean he was abandoning the others during that week.

Examples of his virtues include:

1. Temperance. Eat not to dullness; drink not to elevation.

4. Resolution. Resolve to perform what you ought; perform without fail what you resolve.

In the spirit of Benjamin Franklin’s list of virtues, I’ll offer some virtues of writing fiction. I’ve grouped them into ‘process’ virtues dealing with how you write, and ‘product’ virtues dealing with aspects of the manuscript itself.

The Poseidon’s Scribe 15 Virtues of Fiction Writing

Process Virtues

1. Productivity. Fill hours with writing, not researching or time-wasting activity.

2. Focus. Turn off your inner editor during the first draft.

3. Humility. Seek other trusted people to critique your work; be receptive.

4. Excellence. Only submit work you’re proud of.

5. Doggedness. Be persistent in submitting to markets; be unshaken by rejections.

Product Virtues.

6. Relevance. Ensure your work passes the ‘So What?’ test.

7. Appeal. Hook readers from the first paragraph.

8. Engagement. Put your characters in conflict with something or someone; make the story about conflict resolution.

9. Empathy. Create vivid, engaging characters.

10. Action. Weave logical, interesting plots with appropriate causes and effects.

11. Placement. Provide clear but unobtrusive descriptions of the story setting, without overshadowing character or plot.

12. Meaning. Ensure your story’s theme explores eternal human truths.

13. Style. Seek your own voice, then follow it.

14. Communication. Ensure your characters’ dialogue is appropriate and advances the plot. (Mentioned here, here, and here.)

15. Skill. Salt your tales with symbolism and appropriate metaphors.

Your list would likely be different. One way to go about it is to examine critiques of your fiction you receive from members of your critique group, from editors, etc. Are there repeated criticisms? Turn them around and express them as a positive affirmation or goal, not as a negative to avoid. Those goals represent things to work on, and would be on your own list of virtues.

George Carlin fans would likely point out to me that there’s no such thing as self-help. People who get their list of virtues from their critique group, or from this blog post, aren’t exactly engaged in self-help, since they got help from others. Moreover, if beginning writers truly helped themselves get better, then they didn’t need help. Witty gags aside, it can be a comfort to a struggling writer that there exist methods for improvement, but all I offer is a framework for starting; the writer must shoulder the burden of actually doing the work to improve her writing.

I’d love to hear if you’ve found my list useful, or if you’ve developed your own list, or even if you’ve embarked on a completely different method of improving your writing. Let me know in your comments to this blog entry. For now, back to improving his writing goes—

Poseidon’s Scribe

May 12, 2013Poseidon's ScribePermalink

Tightening the Screws

Today I’m discussing why and how writers increase conflict in their stories. Long-term fans of this site with keen memories will recall that I promised to get to this topic in a previous blog entry. Far be it from me to let you down.

Conflict is a necessary part of all stories and it’s a good idea to ramp up the level of conflict as your story proceeds, both to hold your reader’s interest by building tension, and to subject your protagonist to a progressively more difficult test of character, forcing him or her to confront inner fears or character flaws.

Let’s look at a couple of examples. In the 1993 movie “Jurassic Park,” directed by Steven Spielberg and based on a novel of the same name by Michael Crichton, we see a gradual step-up in conflict. The central protagonist, Dr. Alan Grant, is persuaded to leave a paleontological dig to conduct a review of a theme park. Once there he is awed that the park engineers have re-created living dinosaurs. He is put in close contact with children, which he dislikes. When part of the park’s security system is deactivated, a Tyrannosaurus attacks the group. Grant and the children must spend the night in the park, with predatory dinosaurs on the loose. They encounter cunning Velociraptors, and finally both Velociraptors and the Tyrannosaurus.

Conflict need not be physical, or even dangerous. In the 1964 musical “Fiddler on the Roof,” with music by Jerry Bock and lyrics by Sheldon Harnick, the conflict is of a different nature but also increases. The village milkman, Tevye, must first contend with the fact that his eldest daughter has chosen her own husband against tradition and his wishes. Then his second daughter likewise makes her own marital match, but with a political and cultural radical. Later his third daughter seeks to marry outside the Jewish faith. Finally, on orders from the Tsar, Russian authorities expel the Jewish villagers from their town.

Notice how, in each case, the author chooses plot events that begin with small conflicts and then escalates, figuratively tightening the screws as with the medieval torture device, progressively challenging the characters with more taxing situations. Just as the protagonist resolves or comes to terms with one disaster, a worse one occurs. Moreover, the nature of the conflicts is such that they strike at a character flaw. In Dr. Grant’s case, it’s his dislike of children. In Tevye’s case, it’s his over-reliance on tradition. The protagonists are forced to grapple with their own weakness and try to overcome it.

It’s sad, in a way, that writers must put their characters through the torture of increasing conflict intensity, just for the sake of reader enjoyment. But as long as the characters stay imaginary, it’s all legal, so ease your mind about that. You’re welcome to comment on this topic of increasing the level of conflict. I’ll return now to my Work in Progress (WIP). Please don’t mind any screams you might hear as the screws get tightened by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

May 5, 2013Poseidon's ScribePermalink

Motivational Objects

Often just the sight of some object can motivate writers to put butt to chair and fingers to keyboard, even when they feel like doing something else. Do you have such an object?

I do. A couple of decades ago, I put this framed picture of Jules Verne directly above the computer in my den. The text states, “Keep writing, Steve!” – Jules Verne. I’m not sure what prompted me to do that, and the whole thing may seem silly, but there’s just something about it…

After all, musicians have long placed a bust of Beethoven atop their piano, and from that perch he gazes sternly as if passing judgment on the pianist’s skill. I have suggested that some enterprising person could make and sell small figurines of some of the muses as inspiration for their various creative talents. If offered inexpensively, such figurines might sell well.

But let me get back to my picture of Jules. It seems ridiculous, but the notion that my literary idol might communicate to me from the grave, urging me to keep writing, is something I find encouraging. It’s as if he’s allowing me to tap into his dedication and maybe a sliver of his talent. JV is assuring me that if I keep at it, I’ll improve. Moreover, when I’m not writing, I feel guilty for letting him down.

Half of you are now wondering if you’re reading the blog entry of a lunatic. The other half is questioning whether this really worked for me, and I’ll respond to that second half. When I first hung the picture on the wall many years ago, I think it worked well to instill the daily habit of writing. I’d be playing some computer game, would glance up and realize Jules Verne himself had commanded me to write. So I’d click out of the game and write.

In other words, yes, that very personalized object did serve to motivate me. These days, with the daily habit of writing well formed, and with several of my stories published, I’m not sure I need the framed picture any more. But Verne still stares from my wall, and will do so until I can write no more; I can’t imagine taking it down.

I’d welcome your comments on this idea. Would a motivational object work for you? Do you already have one? I suppose I’d even take comments about my sanity from the half of you with strong feelings on that subject. In the meantime, I’ll resume work on my next story; after all, Jules Verne himself has given an order to—

Poseidon’s Scribe

April 28, 2013Poseidon's ScribePermalink

Describing Your Characters’ Feelings

How are your characters feeling? It’s important for your readers to know. I’ve written an earlier post about conveying a character’s thoughts, and another one about facial expressions, but it’s time to tackle emotions.

For this blog post I’m going to regard ‘feelings,’ ’emotions,’ and ‘moods’ as being synonymous, even though neuroscientists draw distinctions between these terms.

Emotions are part of the human experience, and seem to result from how we’re hard-wired, what our individual background has been, and a recent external or internal stimulus. Since we all have emotions in the real world, the characters in your fiction must have them too, to make them convincing.

Whether there are six basic emotions, as depicted by Dr. Paul Ekman…

…or eight as pictured by Dr. Robert Plutchik…

…writers just need to know there are many emotions, and characters can feel them in combinations and in various intensities.

As a writer, it’s your job to convey these emotions to the reader with clarity and accuracy. There shouldn’t be a doubt in the reader’s mind about what a character is feeling.

How do you do that? Here are some guidelines to follow:

Make sure the emotion is appropriate. Remember, it’s based on a character’s background, but is also a response to a recent stimulus.
Show the emotion through the character’s actions: speech (not only what is said, but word choice and tone of voice), facial expressions, hand motions, or body posture.
Show the emotion by describing the character’s thoughts or mental state.
Use metaphors and similes, but shun clichés.
In certain situations (fast action scenes, very short fiction, or if applicable to a minor character or sub-plot), just tell the character’s emotion. This is not as effective as other methods and indicates amateurish writing if used too often.

If you get stuck trying to portray a character’s emotion in words, one technique that might help is to recall a time when you had that feeling yourself. See if you can draw on that memory and maybe even recreate the emotional state within yourself. If you can conjure up within yourself the same emotion your character is feeling, you stand a good chance of finding words to describe it.

There are some helpful websites that list adjectives useful in describing emotions, notably this one and this one. But I caution against an over-reliance on such adjectives. It’s more effective to show emotions through a character’s actions or by describing what’s going on inside the character’s mind.

How did this blog post make you feel? Are you now confident you can convey a character’s feelings in a more precise way? I welcome comments from you on this topic; in fact few things in life bring greater joy and serenity to—

Poseidon’s Scribe

April 21, 2013Poseidon's ScribePermalink