Book Review – Counting Heads

As both of my many readers know by now, I listen to books on tape more often than I read them these days.  The latest was Counting Heads by David Marusek.  I listened to the Recorded Books version narrated by Kevin R. Free.  I enjoy good science fiction, and the blurb about the book sounded impressive.  Mr. Marusek has apparently written short stories and I believe this is his first novel, but I have not read anything else by this author.

In a future North America where people can live hundreds of years, and nanotechnology and artificial intelligence have made life (mostly) more enjoyable, artist Sam Harger marries billionaire and soon-to-be-politician Eleanor Starke.  Things go awry when Sam is falsely pegged as a terrorist and the Department of Homeland Security (a future and scarier version of it) alters his body so he can no longer be rejuvenated and he now emits a powerful stench beyond cleansing.  Then there’s a plane crash in which the aircraft seat mechanisms protect his daughter Ellen by severing her head from her body.  Medical science has advanced enough to allow re-growing a body from just the head.  But others are after Ellen’s head, perhaps the same evil folks who caused the plane crash and the mistaken terrorist accusation.

I like the world Marusek has created for this novel.  Most people have robotic “mentars” to aid them in drudgery tasks.  Many people are, in fact, clones, and Marusek goes into some detail describing the various types.  Nuclear families have given way to “charter families” functioning by contract and subject to change.  However, terrorists have created nanotechnology viruses, from which cities protect themselves with shield domes.  Mechanical “slugs” crawl about testing people’s identities, and mechanical bees and wasps swarm around observing things for government or media purposes.  I thought Kevin Free did a fine job in reading the novel.

However, for me, that sums up the book’s positive aspects.  Perhaps as a listener rather than a reader I may have missed something, but it wasn’t clear to me what the central conflict of the novel was.  If Sam Harger was supposed to be the protagonist, then the novel spends too little time following the events of his life, and strays into following other characters.  Sam did not seem to me to be actively involved in resolving the central mystery of the book.  As a result, I found it hard to care about him.  The other point-of-view characters are all more focused on their own lives and I found it hard to care about them or even connect them to the plot at all.  The whole book therefore seems a confusing muddle to me.  Is there really a central conflict in this novel?  If so, what is it, and why do the characters not pursue its resolution with any apparent dedication?

After thinking about this for a time, and after reviewing my definitions for my five seahorse rating system, I have to give this book my lowest rating of one seahorse.  If you’re intrigued by science fiction and want to experience one writer’s thoughts on clones, nanotech, advanced medical science, and robotic animals, you might consider reading Counting Heads, but I recommend looking elsewhere.   However, it’s possible I missed its greatness somewhere; if you’re the person to set me right, please leave a comment for–

Poseidon’s Scribe

 

April 30, 2012Permalink

Writing the Kübler-Ross Way

When writing fiction, you want your characters to seem authentic to readers, to react in believable ways to the events that happen to them.  Such reactions need not match how the reader would react in the same circumstances, necessarily, but they should be in accordance with the character’s personality, not clash with it.  To achieve that authenticity, you need to be a detailed observer of human nature.  In addition to that, you can discover what psychiatrists have determined.

Psychiatrist Dr. Elisabeth Kübler-Ross developed her ‘Five Stages of Grief’ model and described it in her book On Death and Dying.  The five stages are Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance and are sometimes abbreviated as DABDA.

There are those who dispute Kübler-Ross’ theory and some who have competing notions.  You are free to choose the theory you like best.  For our purposes in this blog post, let’s stick with DABDA.  Dr. Kübler-Ross recognized these five separate reactions may apply to more than just human reaction to the death of a loved one.  They may apply in some manner to the responses to any unexpected unfortunate event with emotional content, any shocking or surprising negative circumstance experienced by a character.

A character can pass through phases in different order, or skip one or more phases entirely.  That will be determined in part by the event being reacted to, and the personality of the character.  Bear in mind a phase like denial can be expressed quickly by the character saying, “I don’t believe it,” or “No way.”  These don’t have to be experiences dragged out over several paragraphs.

Also note that a character need not ever reach acceptance.  He or she can get stuck at any of the other stages.  Since that’s not a good sign of emotional health, it can make for interesting and dramatic fiction.  Imagine a person getting stuck at the anger stage, for example.  How would that person act?  What would she be thinking of?  How does she go through life while dominated by feelings of rage?  Similarly, the notion of becoming fixed at the denial, bargaining, or depression stages comes with major consequences for such characters.

Simply knowing one theory of how people normally react to surprising or shocking events can be a help as you strive to create believable and authentic characters.  Do you disagree, or have you used Kubler-Ross’ theory in your own writing?  Leave a comment and let me know.  Though you might not believe it, or it might tick you off, or you’d do anything if it weren’t so, or it makes you feel miserable, or you’ve finally come to understand and consent to the truth of it, I am–

                                                                  Poseidon’s Scribe

 

April 30, 2012Permalink

Use Mind Maps to Solve Your Writing Problems

The concept of mind mapping has come up in my blog entries before, as a suggested tool to help writers.  I’ve said you can use mind maps for outlining, to improve your creativity, and to solve pesky plotting problems.  But what exactly is a mind map, and how does it work?

A mind map is a way of organizing and illustrating thoughts about a topic.  I learned about the technique from reading Use Both Sides of Your Brain, by Tony Buzan.  It contrasts quite a bit from other note-taking methods like the I.A.1.(a)(1)(i) outlining method you learned in school.  I’ve found it to be more intuitive, less messy, and easier to remember than other methods.  I use my own variant of mind mapping any time I need to organize thoughts:  note-taking during meetings at work, planning my day, planning a vacation.  And, oh yeah, I use mind-mapping to aid in my writing.

How do you construct a mind map?  I’ll give only a quick description here; I recommend you read Buzan’s book, or at a minimum read descriptions of the technique elsewhere online.

  • Start in the center with an image of the topic.
  • Write key words around the central image using upper case letters.
  • Underline each key word.
  • Use lines to link the underlined key words to your central image and to each other to illustrate connections.
  • Use images and symbols throughout, in addition to key words.  (Don’t worry if you think you can’t draw decent pictures; no one but you will see your mind map.)
  • Use multiple colors to separate thoughts, and to link similar thoughts.
  • Continue branching out from the center, expanding the thoughts and linking related ideas.

The best way to explain what that all means is to show you a mind map.  I’ve said you can use mind maps to solve writing problems, so let’s see a hypothetical example.  Let’s say you’re Jules Verne and you’re working on a book with a working title of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.  You’re outlining the major events of the book and you want to finish with an appropriate, memorable ending, one with a big impact and one that fits the novel’s major themes.  You could make a list of possible endings, then go back and list pros and cons for each option, then choose the best one.  Or you could construct a mind map.

(Set aside for the moment, that [1] mind-mapping hadn’t been invented at the time, and [2] Verne did not write in English.)

In a more complete mind-map, Verne would have continued branching from each option, with pros and cons.  I’ve violated a few mind map rules in this example, but my overall point is for you to see how you could use the technique to aid your writing.

Stuck for an idea what to write about?  Write down key words that resonate with you, even if apparently unrelated.  Go fast and fill up a page with words and pictures.  Now pause and look for natural associations.  Re-do the mind map if necessary to keep it clean and neat.  Now, in a different color, try connecting some unrelated ideas.  Do any of these clashing notions suggest a possible story?

Not sure how to plot your story?  Mind-map the story’s scenes, with branches describing why they occur and how the characters change or learn things from each event.  That should make it apparent if you have unnecessary scenes, scenes in the wrong order, or if you’re missing some scenes you need.

Possible uses for mind-mapping are limited only by your imagination.  In other words, there are no limits.  Can you see yourself using this technique?  Have you ever done so?  Share your ideas about mind-mapping by leaving a comment.  This blog post has been brought to you by both the left and right sides of the brain of–

                                                                        Poseidon’s Scribe

 

 

April 15, 2012Permalink

What He Said About ‘Said’

“Today’s blog post is about the word ‘said,’” said Poseidon’s Scribe.

“What is there to say about ‘said?’” asked Blog Reader, who hoped to write fiction someday.

“First, ‘said’ is the most common type of ‘dialogue tag’ used in fiction to indicate who’s speaking,” said the Scribe.  “However, many budding authors worry about overusing that word, so they substitute other words.”

“I don’t believe that,” asserted the Reader.

“It’s true, but the fact is, ‘said’ is pretty much invisible.  You can’t overuse it,” said the Scribe.  “People pass right over it as they read.”

“Well, I declare,” declared the Reader.

“Still, there is something even worse than that,” said the Scribe.

“What’s that?” the Reader asked, questioningly.

“Modifying ‘said’ with an adverb.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that,” the Reader said unthinkingly.

“Use of adverbs in that way is termed a ‘Tom Swifty,’ from the Tom Swift series of books about a young inventor.  The authors of those books occasionally sought to modify ‘said’ with adverbs.  Not only are they examples of bad writing, but Tom Swifties have given rise to an entire brand of humor.  There are examples here and here and here.”

“Okay, please stop listing links,” the Blog Reader said haltingly.

“Look, there are at least four things to remember about writing dialogue,” said the Scribe, “and the first is to be very clear about who’s talking.  Don’t leave your readers wondering about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you go on for several lines of dialogue without tags–“

“Like we’re doing now, you mean?”

“–the reader can lose track of who’s speaking.”

“You don’t say.”

“I do.  Especially when there’s more than two characters or when they have similar styles of speech.”

“Are there any times you would use several lines of untagged dialogue?”

“Oh, yes.  That technique can heighten the drama of a scene, build it up to a climax.  As each line of dialogue becomes shorter and shorter, your readers will naturally sense the tension building.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes, I’m certain.”

“Really certain?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Sure?”

“Yup.”

“Okay, I think I understand that,” said the Blog Reader.  “You said there are four key points about dialogue.  What’s the next one?”

“Keep it interesting,” said Poseidon’s Scribe.  “Humans are social animals and love to talk.  Your readers want to hear your characters talking, and they have a preference for dialogue over narration.  But they don’t want to be bored, so keep dialogue interesting.”

“And the third key point?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” said the Scribe.  “It’s related to the second point.  Use dialogue for dramatic purposes, to show characters at their moments of strong emotion as they grapple with the problem that represents the story’s conflict.  Minimize the use of dialogue just for providing information.  That’s called info-dumping.”

“Which is what you’re doing now,” said the Reader.

“True, but we’re having a real discussion, not a fictional one.”

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure,” Poseidon’s Scribe held up his right index finger.  “There’s one last point I want to make about the use of ‘said’ in dialogue.  If you’re still worried about repeating ‘said’ and you doubt my point earlier about readers skipping over it, then substitute some type of action, or movement, or description.”

“What do you mean?”  The Reader’s brows furrowed.

“Instead of using ‘said,’ have your character do something while speaking.”  The Scribe swept his hand to indicate motion.  “After all, people really do things while talking.  They don’t just stand there.”

The Reader nodded.  “I see what you mean.  But what do I do if I have a question about this later?”

“Just click on ‘leave a comment’ below this blog entry.  See it down there?”

“Yeah, there it is.  Well, thanks for everything!”  The Blog Reader smiled.

“Don’t mention it,” said–

                                                             Poseidon’s Scribe

April 8, 2012Permalink

Mixed Genres and the Platypus

Authors are having a lot of fun playing among the traditional genres these days.  In an era when Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter, and the movies “Ninjas vs. Vampires” and “Cowboys and Aliens” are popular, we might well question whether the term ‘genre’ has any meaning any more.

What is (or was) a genre?  It’s “a category of artistic works based on form, style, or subject matter, into which artistic works of all kinds can be divided.”  In its entry on genre fiction, Wikipedia provides the following list:  Action-adventure, Crime, Detective, Fantasy, Horror, Inspirational, Mystery, Romance, Science Fiction, and Western.  People can dispute that listing but let’s accept it for the time being.

Having a set of well-established genres into which any fiction book fits comfortably within a group is a nice arrangement for bookstores.  Booksellers know just where to shelve any new book that arrives.  Moreover, readers know where to look for their favorite types of stories.  That was the situation up until roughly when the millennium turned over.  In fact, experts used to discourage new authors from writing mixed genre novels because “bookstores won’t know where to shelve your book, and such books have limited appeal to readers.”

Well, forget all that!  Somewhere around the time people stopped going to brick-and-mortar bookstores to buy books, many readers started getting bored with the traditional genres.  They caught up with the authors, who had long been bored with them and ached to stir things up.  Now it’s the bookstores playing catch-up.

Consider the problem for a bookstore.  Imagine a line connecting two genres, say Romance and Horror.  A given book could be at the midpoint of that line, half Romance and half Horror, or it could be at any point along that line.  Now add all the other genres and connect each.  Quite a network!  Moreover, we only considered mixing genres two at a time, but you could combine three or more.  Given all that, how are you going to arrange the shelves in your bookstore?

But what if your bookstore is online and has a virtually unlimited number and arrangement of shelves?  What if your reader customers are demanding nontraditional stories?  What if those customers can type any combination of terms in the search feature of your website to see what you’re offering?  Suddenly it’s not necessary for a budding author to try to force-fit a story into one and only one of the established genres.

The situation is one of definition, like the duck-billed platypus, which once created a problem for zoologists.  Is it a bird or a mammal? It must certainly be one or the other.  It turns out the problem does not lie with the platypus, but with our categories, our definitions.  Similarly, genres are categories with fuzzy–even overlapping–boundaries.  Some stories fit snugly near the center of a genre’s definition.  Others lie out near the edge, still within the boundary, but also within the boundary of another genre.

So I advise you to write the story you want to write, without regard to genres.  It’s a new age, an era without rigid categories, sans genres.  Readers out there seem ready for some experimentation, some departures from tradition.  When you hit that magic combination that amazes the world and propels you to fame and fortune, write down how grateful you are, enclose a fat check, and mail it to–

                                                                      Poseidon’s Scribe

 

April 1, 2012Permalink

Book Review — Ship of the Line

It’s clear to me now:  reading C. S. Forester’s series of Horatio Hornblower novels in the wrong order is not the way to go.  After reading Mr. Midshipman Hornblower (1st in chronological order, 6th one written in the series) some time ago, I just finished Ship of the Line (8th chronological, 2nd one written).

I listened to the Books on Tape version of the book, narrated by Geoffrey Howard.  This novel features Horatio as captain of the 74-gun HMS Sutherland.  He is shown as being more in love with Lady Barbara Wellesley, wife of Rear Admiral Leighton, than his own wife Maria.  He struggles to find enough sailors to man his crew and is forced to settle for untrained ruffians.  Once his ship is fully manned, he conducts a series of attacks to harass the French forces on coast of Spain.  He chaffs under the incompetent leadership of his squadron commander, Admiral Leighton.

If you know little about the British Navy of the early 1800s before reading the book, you’ll feel like an expert afterward.  Forester gives just the right amount of detail for a reader to picture the scene without getting bored.  There is also so much to admire in Hornblower himself.  His strengths (bravery, audacity, cleverness) make him the perfect naval hero, while his weaknesses (jealousy, tone-deafness, and obsessive self-criticism) don’t detract from his professional life.  If, like me, you skip from Hornblower as a midshipman to Hornblower as captain, you’ll marvel at his maturity and the traits he’s taken on.  Geoffrey Howard did a fine job with the book’s narration.

I wish I’d read these books while I served in the U.S. Navy.  Actually I couldn’t have, for I served during Hornblower’s time period, long before Forester even wrote the books.  Seriously, all Navy personnel can learn much from Hornblower’s decision-making methods, his boldness, his tactfulness, and his leadership style.

There were things I didn’t like, however.  Hornblower’s jealousy, his secret love of Lady Barbara, and his disdain for his own wife were off-putting.  Hard to maintain sympathy for a protagonist like that.  I was dissatisfied by the book’s ending.  Without spoiling it for you, let me say this was more like a long chapter in a huge book than an integrated novel in its own right.  The ending of a book ought to resolve the main conflict in some way.  This book’s ending seemed to resolve nothing.  But it did set things up for the next novel.

Using my world-famous seahorse rating system, I give Ship of the Line four seahorses.  I enjoyed it a lot, and you will too.  For these nautical stories, you should just take my word for it because, after all, I’m–

                                                                           Poseidon’s Scribe

 

March 31, 2012Permalink

Hurrah, Hurrah, Hurrah for Steampunk!

You may have heard the term ‘steampunk,’ a word I’ve used in several blog posts. Perhaps you’re wondering what it means.  The word sounds vaguely repulsive with that ‘punk’ part, as if it’s something distasteful you’d want no part of.

At first the term referred only to a genre of literature where stories take place in a time or setting where the primary technology is steam power.  The word arose when science fiction author K.W. Jeter sought a term to apply to novels then being written which seemed to have branched out from science fiction into their own subgenre.  In a letter printed in the science fiction magazine “Locus” in April 1987, he proposed the term ‘steampunk’ taking a cue from another genre called ‘cyberpunk.’

Since cyberpunk is dark and gritty, very dystopian in outlook, some assumed steampunk should be the same way.  Many consider a story isn’t steampunk unless it not only takes place in a steam-powered society, but also uses the seamy side of that society to make a corresponding point about some weakness in our own.  That would be the ‘punk’ part.

However, an interesting thing happened after that airship left the station.  It seemed these authors had tapped into something deeper and much stronger.  Steampunk became a style, a philosophy, a way of life.  Readers loved the steam, not the punk.  It took off in popularity, capturing people’s imagination in interesting ways.  Search on the web for steampunk images and you’ll see what I mean.  People enjoy dressing in steampunk style and inventing steampunk gadgets.  (Pictures are from photobucket.com)

Consider the major fictional genres:  Action-adventure, Crime, Detective, Fantasy, Horror, Inspirational, Mystery, Romance, Science fiction, and Western.  Of these, only Western and Fantasy come complete with ready-made ‘worlds,’ and unique styles of dress.  In all the others, the author must describe her world in some detail.  With steampunk (a subgenre of science fiction), and with Western and Fantasy, all of that comes built in.

Why did steampunk become so popular?  Here are some possible reasons:

  • We can still relate to the time period.  It wasn’t so long ago.
  • It celebrates the last time in history when people held a purely positive outlook on technology.  It was a time of unalloyed optimism about science; everyone knew science would make life better.  It was a time before the Titanic, before World War I, and well before nuclear weapons.  Technology had no dark side.
  • The technology is elegant, appealing to the eye.  It has a delicate craftsmanship to it, and delightful metallic curves.  Aesthetic beauty is a recognized part of it, an aspect of its very purpose.
  • Steampunk technology is understandable by the common man, and tangible to the senses.  You can see the exposed gears, the pistons.  You can watch the motion and hear the steam hissing.  It isn’t esoteric like today, beyond explanation, hidden away inside black boxes.
  • Steampunk appeals to both women and men.  I don’t know exactly why, but each gender finds aspects of steampunk to enjoy.  The clothes may have something to do with that; perhaps our casual-dress age looks back with fondness on all that Victorian formality.  Part of it may be social; those were the times when women first began to realize the exciting potential for more equal rights; the early glimmerings of the social upheavals we’re still adjusting to today.
  • To carry that last idea further, perhaps steampunk appeals to us because social roles were so rigid then.  As we struggle today to understand the new chaos of gender relationships, steampunk harkens to a time when those roles were fixed and well-understood.  Perhaps we feel superior to the people of those times, but just maybe something inside us longs to know, with their certainty, where we belong.

In the ‘Stories’ part of this website, you’ll see I’ve written a few steampunk short stories myself.  (I couldn’t resist the personal plug there.)  If you’re still not certain whether you’d like steampunk, read some steampunk stories, watch some steampunk movies, make some brass goggles and try them on.  You might find you like the whole milieu enough to go to a steampunk convention.  Pretty soon you might be giving three cheers for steampunk, along with–

                                                                             Poseidon’s Scribe

March 25, 2012Permalink

Book Review — The Lost Goddess

I just finished reading The Lost Goddess, by Tom Knox.  I listened to the Recorded Books version on audiotape, narrated by Christopher Evan Welch.  This is the first book I’ve read by Knox.  From the blurb, it promised to be an interesting historical thriller.  I’d say it delivered.

The book follows the lives of two people whose paths are destined to connect.  Julia Kerrigan is an American archaeologist digging at a site in a French cave.  Jake Thurby is a British photographer trying to snap money-making pictures in Southeast Asia.  The novel alternates point-of-view between these characters throughout.

The novel is exciting, gritty, and packed with mystery and adventure.  The scene-setting is very good, especially the detailed descriptions of Cambodia and Laos.  The author really puts you right there, close to both the beauty and the ugliness.  I see by his website that he conducted considerable research on that region.  I thought the Julia character was well drawn; she seemed strong and had believable motivations.  There’s some interesting sexual tension, though not between Julia and Jake, but this is no romance.  The secret mystery of the book is compelling and fascinating; a great weaving together of some historical facts into a grand and fairly believable theory.  I won’t spoil anything for you, but you won’t put it all together until near the end.  Some readers might find the mystery’s explanation morally objectionable, but I’d encourage them to lighten up and remember this is a work of fiction.

On the negative side, I found the title a bit of a misnomer.  Oddly, the book is sold under a different (and better) title in the United Kingdom — Bible of the Dead.  While I said Julia was a strong character, Jake is not.  He seems almost pathetic and stupid at times, always asking for explanations, seemingly swept along by events.  Not the kind of character I care much about.  Normally I have kind things to say about the narrator readers of audio books, and it’s not a bad performance by Mr. Welch.  It’s just that sometimes it’s hard to tell that he’s speaking in Jake’s voice when Jake is speaking.  The book’s ending seems to drag on a bit long.

Although I’m giving the book a rating of three seahorses according to my unique seahorse rating system, I recommend the book to lovers of mystery-adventure books set in exotic locales.  Those readers will really enjoy The Lost Goddess.  I enjoyed it, but I can only speak for–

                                                                                  Poseidon’s Scribe

 

 

 

March 21, 2012Permalink

Being Prolific — Is That the Secret?

Should you aim to be prolific?  To be prolific as a writer means to be highly productive, to write a lot, and (one hopes) to be published a lot.  Should that be your goal? If so, what is the key to being prolific?

The ultimate aims of writers vary, but a short list of such goals could include:

  1. I want to be a famous writer, popular in my own time.
  2. I want my books to be remembered through the ages.
  3. I just have an inner need to tell a story.
  4. I want to maximize my financial earnings.
  5. I want to publish as many books as possible.
  6. I seek a combination of some of the above goals.

I was tempted to set up a graph with high quantity (being prolific) at one end and high quality at the other, and plot each goal on the graph.  For example, you might think goals 1 and 2 have to do with quality, while goals 4 and 5 are more concerned with quantity.  Such an analysis would have told you whether to churn out a lot of words, or self-edit like crazy to ensure each book is perfect.

Here’s the problem.  As Joseph Stalin was supposed to have said, (even an evil dictator can utter one true statement) “Quantity has a quality all its own.”  In a previous post, I mentioned Malcolm Gladwell’s theory about becoming a genius in any particular field.  One element of that was practicing for 10,000 hours.  That implies quantity is a necessary step to quality.  To write well, you must first write a lot.

There are different ways to spend that 10,000 hours of practice, of course.  As I implied above, you might write your first draft, then do just enough editing to send it off and sell a mediocre story, then move on to the next one.  Or you could refine and polish every word, as a poet does, going over and over your story until you achieve earthly perfection.  At the end of that process, you might have a book that could satisfy goals 1 or 2 or both.

There’s a list of prolific writers and one of my favorites–Dr. Isaac Asimov–is on that list.  He’s not at the top, though.  That honor belongs to María del Socorro Tellado López, who wrote mostly under the name Corín Tellado.  She lived from 1927-2009 and wrote over 4,000 novellas.

If you hope to surpass her record, you’d better get busy.

Let’s examine the productivity of Corín Tellado.  She sold her first novel in 1946, when she was about 19.  Her publishing house contracted with her to write a novella every week.  When I read that, I thought, “Okay, I could see having a very organized schedule that results in a novella each week.”  But look closer at the numbers.  Say she wrote continually from 1946 until her death in 2009, a period of about 63 years, or roughly 3,276 weeks.  Only 3,276 weeks, and yet she wrote over 4,000 novellas.  She was cranking out a novella, on average, every 5.7 days.

Corín Tellado is the extreme example of being prolific.  You probably won’t go that far, but imagine the discipline required, the organizational and time-management skills, the need to fill all available time with writing.  Not to mention the necessity to dream up numerous plotlines and characters.  These are the keys to being a prolific writer.

Whatever your goals as a writer, whether you aim for quantity or quality, I think you’re still going to need (or at least aim for) the skills and attributes of a prolific writer.  Do you agree or disagree?  Leave me a comment.  But keep it short; I’m a busy man and have to finish my next novella in 5.7 days, or I’m not–

                                                                       Poseidon’s Scribe

March 18, 2012Permalink

The Iron-Clad Discipline of Writing

Many years ago, I attended one of our nation’s service academies.  When, during a meal, one of the upperclassmen heard some unnecessary talking at the table by an underclassman, he would ask, “Mr. —–, how’s the discipline at that end of the table?”  The only correct answer was to bang your fist on the table and shout, “Iron-clad, sir!”  Discipline is a vital attribute of military service; is it also important in writing?

This excellent blog post by Jocelyn K. Glei explores the whole idea of discipline, including a fascinating psychological test for it, the Marshmallow Test.  Researchers took four-year-old kids and showed them a marshmallow and said they could eat it now, or wait fifteen minutes and they’d be given two.  All the kids wanted to wait, but not all could.   Years later when they were in high school, the children who’d waited for two marshmallows at age four still demonstrated more disciplined behavior.

The website also provides a simple twelve-question quiz you can take to measure your own discipline.  The article calls the quality ‘grit,’ but they mean that same tenacity and perseverance I’m talking about.  It produces results ranging from 1.0 (undisciplined) to 5.0 (very disciplined).

Obviously a certain amount of discipline is necessary to be a writer.  Something has to keep you in that chair, churning out words for hours on end.  There will come times when you’d prefer to be doing something else.  Authors joke about it often, that realization that a library book needs returning, or the floor under the bed needs cleaning, or the lawn needs mowing.  Anything other than writing.

I believe a lack of discipline may be the thing that discourages people from writing, more so than any other reason.  People will say things such as, “I could never write a novel.  I don’t know where writers get their ideas.”  But just about everyone has a story to tell.  Ideas aren’t the problem, in my view.  It’s the thought of devoting long hours alone to the task of generating the words, the paragraphs, the scenes.  The duration of the effort seems daunting.

That’s why, as the saying goes, writing a novel is a one-day event.  As in, “one day, I’m going to write a novel.”

So I do think a certain amount of doggedness is necessary, if only to get you through those tough times when the words won’t flow.  There must be some recognition of the value of delayed gratification; otherwise it would be too easy to just stop writing.

When I set out to blog about this topic, I assumed a writer couldn’t get too much discipline, that it was an attribute a writer needed in full measure.  Then I got to thinking about people with extreme discipline–people who never, ever give up.  They will pursue a project to completion with single-minded devotion, not letting anything get in their way.  Again, the way I’ve described it still may sound like a desirable trait, but consider there may be a certain lack of adaptability in extremely disciplined people.  They might not be so willing to abandon a course of action even if the situation changes.

For you as a writer, a story might not be working at all.  Try as you might, it’s not coming together.  Or perhaps the story you were writing would have been based on some real-life situation remaining unchanged, but it changed.  For example, your story might have been based on the continued existence of some famous person who then died while you were writing the story.

In such cases, a certain degree of flexibility might be more important than a 5.0 rating of discipline.  I’m not saying disciplined people always lack adaptability; the words aren’t antonyms.  I’m just saying both attributes are important to writers.

You might disagree with me.  That’s what the ‘leave a comment’ thing below is for.  For those of you dying of curiosity, my grit rating on the quiz was 3.92.  You might also be asking, “Mr. Poseidon’s Scribe, how’s discipline at that end of the internet?”  Bang!  Iron-clad, sir!”  At least, that’s the response from–

                                                                        Poseidon’s Scribe

March 11, 2012Permalink