Category Archives: Writing

Ironic Racism?

Something kind of awesome happened the other day. William Shatner showed up on Reddit, and then went on to introduce himself on their /r/startrek. I’m a big fan of his acting, and I think Bill’s just about the coolest 81-year-old in the world. Which is why I was a little surprised when he had some choice words about the site.kirkpassport-713262

The unsavory aspects still exist — I am appalled by some of the immature, horrifically racist, sexist, homophobic, ethnic … etc … posts that are just ignored here.

This kind of took me aback. I consider myself pretty good at getting on the Internets. I’ve gone on 4chan/b to see what all the hubbub is about. I was on Slashdot, Fark, and Digg back in the day. So, I guess I’ve been taking for granted the fact that some people use words that… Well, let’s just say words that, in my day, were only allowed in rap lyrics, and because I am a fat, white man, from me certain words sound offensive no matter what the context.

As God as my witness, I though turkeys could fly.  As God as my witness, I thought that was just the way young people talked these days.

If people use those horrible hurtful words without thinking because those words have no negative connotation to them, I don’t necessarily consider that a bad thing–I drop F-bombs like I own stock in the F-ing company, a sin which would have gotten me stoned (not the good kind) in 1950s America. I’m a big fan of words not hurting people, and I’m all for taking the teeth away from those words.

Here’s the thing that Bill Shatner made me think about: Even if they were meant ironically, if someone reads those words and interprets them as hateful, does it matter if they were meant ironically? And is there is a darker side to this as well? Are there closet racists who hide behind hipsterism, or are empowered because they don’t understand the intent of the words they’re reading?

Hell, I don’t know. I don’t even know if these comments were meant ironically.

As a member of the privileged class–I didn’t sign up for that–I also struggle with racial issues in my writing. Should I mention that I mentally see a character as black? What if I didn’t mention another character was white? Growing up in Iowa, white skin is definitely my default*. Can I say black or should I say African American**? The only thing I am sure I can do is offend someone. Ironically, I usually enjoy offending people, but racially, I’d rather not.

* I think I was seven years old before I saw a person with black skin, and I was very confused. From what I had seen on TV, I didn’t know whether I was supposed to burn a cross or be mugged, neither one of which would have been easy in the crowded Strawberry Point swimming pool. Things only got more confusing when I asked my father about racism, and he told me Irish people were once considered racially inferior. I’d always thought we were just drunks.

** I once went to a party where a drunken gentleman explained to an African woman that she was “African-African American.” She insisted that she was not an American, and therefore she was an African who was black. She then pointed out that there were white Africans as well. The drunken gentleman explained that white Africans were her European opressors, to which she responded, “My father is white.” The conversation ended there.

 

Over analysis

NbycKWYesterday, someone suggested I look at an online tool for analyzing my writing. I remembered that I’d looked at it in the past, but I couldn’t put my finger on what I’d disliked about it. I tried it again today and I was quickly reminded of why I didn’t like it. It gave me too much information.

For instance, in 9000 words it marked several instances where I “used hyphens inconsistently.” In all but one of the instances, I’d used a phrase as both a noun and verb: The drapes reached from floor to ceiling. vs. The room had floor-to-ceiling drapes. Another section wanted to draw attention to handful of  adverbs I’d used in the section. In the end, I’d spent more than a half hour reading an analysis that netted me only one change.

To me though, the more important type of over analysis is what I have been experiencing in the edit of my current manuscript. Earlier this week, I found I had gone through two important scenes and done almost nothing more than tweak the grammar. I’d done no work on the character’s internal voice. I’d done nothing to round-out the scenes. I ended up doing them over. No computer program could have picked out that much more important problem.


A while ago, I picked up a book called Spunk and Bite. This book is important because it dissects the rules and then gives examples of famous authors who break them like people who make spaghetti improperly break their spaghetti before putting it in the pot*.

My point is this: There are libraries full of books on how to write books, and many of them have “rules” about how to write well. Most of the rules are even consistent. But it’s also important to remember none of these rules are absolute.

* I wanted to come up with a better metaphor here, but this just annoys me. You put it in the hot water and it bends.

Show your work

After a three month hiatus, I’ve returned to my critique group. While my prolonged illness was the reason for my absence, I honestly didn’t know if I was going to go back or not. However, while I was gone, I received so many nice notes from group members wishing for me good health and return, so I decided to make another go of it.

zaJYQQOne of the things I love about my group is it is totally drop-in. All you have to do is show up and do the work (and not be a complete ass) and you’re in. This keeps things fresh, except, of course, when some complete ass shows up.

Last night was a great example of this. I got the opportunity to critique the work of a very talented rookie writer. It reminded me of how far I had come and gave me new motivation to dig into my work.

I also put myself on the critique schedule for the fifst time since October. It’s only fair. Critique is a humbling process. Unless you put your own work into the meat grinder, I think you loose perspective of what others are dealing with.

This is where I am coming to my point. AH-HA! See! See! there is one. Part of becoming a writer is putting out your work for other people to see–people who aren’t your friends and family, people who might not even like you. Some of it will be unfinished. Some of it will suck. Some of the advice you get will be hurtful and utterly unusable, but is going through that spanking machine any worse than sending your work to an agent or an editor. Is subjecting yourself to peer critique worse than putting your work out to the general public without the benefit of someone else’s eyes?

So be brave. Show your work.

A Flowchart

eFiction Founder Doug Lance posted this flowchart the other day “to help people decide how to publish.” He’s obviously biassed, but I think he makes a good point.

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My editor recently retired, and over the last few months I’ve been toying with the idea of self publishing. I feel like I got a lot out of the small-press process, but I really like the idea of more creative control. Still, I have a voice of doubt in the back of my head, arguing that I might be making a misstep.

Lance’s flowchart really helped me break this down. According to his flowchart, I have four possible goals. Here they are out of order.

Critical Acclaim: If I wanted critical acclaim, I wouldn’t be writing vampire novels filled with dick jokes. Come on, until they come out with the Hugo for Best Dick Joke*, that’s just not happening.

Prestige: A little piece of me wants to be published by a big house, so the next time Jim Hines or somebody else who’s work I enjoy comes to town I can say, “Hey, remember me from that TOR mixer at BlahCon. My book just did the Kessel Run in 12 parsecs. Now we can be best friends.” But honestly, every writer I’ve talked to either big or small has always been really cool and approachable. Whether we self-publish or make a million for Harper Collins, we all share the same challenges and anxieties.

Money: At the end of the day, it’s nice to do what you love and be appreciated with social-survival points. However, this is not my most important concern.

Readers: Okay. This is the big one. I like when people read my books. I know there is a potential audience out there for me. We just have to find each other. When people love my books and leave me nice reviews, it makes me squee. And I am no serial squee-er.

* I’m pushing for this.

Unidentified objects

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This picture was put on the Internet as a UFO sighting. Someone eventually pointed out that it was a streetlamp.

People perceive things differently. Two witnesses to the same event will fixate on different details. One person’s unidentified flying object is another person’s streetlamp. For some people, this leads to bigotry and hatred. For others it leads to cognitive dissonance and insanity. For me, it leads to fun.

On-and-off, I worked on Minion of Evil, which revolves around the Christian struggle of good and evil over the course of three years. During the course of the novel, I changed how I viewed the world, and went from a position of atheistic skepticism to non-judgmental optimism.

I believe there are two types of skeptics. Big-S skeptics use disbelieving things as a crutch to fill some kind of emptiness in their life, and once they set their mind on what they consider the “truth” cannot be swayed by any evidence, and small-s skeptics, who merely want to weigh the evidence on both sides before making a decision.

Also, during this time, I started doing paranormal investigation. I might not have collected enough evidence to convince a big-S Skeptic of the existence of the parnormal during that time, but I did see enough things to convince me that there is something beyond what we consider “normal” going on.

So, what is a skeptic atheist to do when confronted with believable evidence that supernatural things exist? Well, I was alway fascinated with this quote by atheist Stephen F. Roberts, “I contend we are both atheists, I just believe in one fewer god than you do. When you understand why you dismiss all the other possible gods, you will understand why I dismiss yours.” So I put the question to myself, if I opened the door to believing in one invisible thing, could I discount anything?

The answer I got back was a resounding No.

zzftDZGhosts? Yeah. Fairies? Okay. Trolls? Sure. Ascended Masters? Okey Dokey. Norse gods? Skoal! Aliens? Nanu Nanu. Angels? Why not?

So, how is that working out for me? I’ve believed in all invisible things now for two years. Has it hurt me in any way? Well, from time-to-time, I’ve felt a little silly. But at the end of the day, I have to say life is more fun and interesting.

My 2012 in review

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Why MMMMMMMMMM? Why not MCMIV?

 

I tend to be bad about taking pride in my accomplishments, so I thought it would be good to do a year in review. 2012 has been a pretty awesome year for me.

I got my first book published this year, and it many people seemed to like it. It might not be the cleanest copy ever produced, but I’m proud of Minion of Evil. It’s a good story and a story I think I would have enjoyed as a reader. And then I got a second book published this year, and it went better than the first. Sure, they aren’t making any bestseller lists, but they are mine and they are out.

Also, I finished two rough drafts this year and did a boatload of re-writes. And despite being sick as a dog for the last 2 months, I’m finally gaining ground on my re-write of Panic No More–I finished three scenes this week.

I was even offered a job as an editor at a startup publishing company. I turned it down though. I’m a fairly decent content editor, but I’m a writer. Right now, I have to focus my energies on my writing.

I think the biggest thing I did was put myself out there. I went to cons and sat on panels (which I was not qualified to do) and did readings (which noone attended.) And I have fans, which is the awesomest of the awesome.

I’m quite pleased with my 2012. I feel like I got a good start in my writing and I am moving in the right direction.

Scrivener, a Year In

Mid-November of last year, I tried a beta of the Windows Version of Scrivener. At the time I found it a little clunky. For instance, I couldn’t get the compile or export to work in a satisfactory manner.

I’ve now been using the program for over a year, and I have to admit, I’m addicted. I’ve even started suggesting people use scrivener for all kinds of tasks that involve writing and organization.

Below, I have taken a screenshot of how I do re-writes in Scrivener. In the main window is my working copy, and on the right is the previous version of the chapter, saved in a snapshot.

Screen Shot 2012-12-17 at 10.35.01 AM

My WIP in scrivener

I used to do this with Word, keeping two windows open at once, constantly fighting to keep the text the right size so I could work and read, as well as trying to keep all the controls on the screen, having to bounce back and forth between windows to scroll. It’s nice to have everything in once place. Well, okay, it wasn’t really that bad, but this is nicer.

The other thing I could praise all day about scrivener is the organization. I used to keep my WIP in separate Word files. This was not too bad a way to go, it help with revision control, but it also prevented me from doing things like global search and replace. Also, I find being able to name the scenes a great way to locate information. Today, I wanted to re-read some text from an earlier scene, and I was able to use the scene titles to come within 1000 words of the description with almost no effort.

That’s not to say I haven’t had problems. There’s an odd bug that always ends an em dash followed by a quote with one open quote rather than a closed quote. Even on my brand-new MacBook Pro, I sometimes have trouble with the real-time spell check falling behind. I wish each project could have it’s own custom dictionary. And even after using it for a year, I feel like a novice.

The more I use Scrivener, the more I find myself relying on it and recommending it to others. If you want to try it, there’s a 30-day free trial.

Just an update

I’m currently slogging through the middle of my latest rewrite, fighting the “Muddle in the Middle.” It doesn’t help that my coffee shop is playing the XM seasonal channel, so instead of my usual Rat Pack crooners, I’ve heard Feliz Navidad 12 times in the past 3 weeks, which apparently makes me want to eat nachos and attack innocent bystanders with a meat hammer. I’m going to spend the weekend away from the book so I can get some fresh perspective next week.

LocationsFOn the bright side, I’m feeling good enough to drink wine, and my friend Jose has announced his bottle–or in this case bottles–of the year. The Locations F-1 and E-1 by Dave Phinney. I opened a bottle of the aromatic F-1 last night and thoroughly enjoyed it.

Being Silly is Serious Business

When I’m not writing, sleeping, or doing things on a computer, I need a hobby, and that hobby is watching television.

I find television writing very interesting because in many cases, the scripts are written by committee, and even when a single person has control, they are still subject to changes made by directors, producers, and actors. The fact that they produce anything palatable at all is a miracle, and when they miss the mark, they make for glorious train-wrecks.

Lately, I’ve been watching That 70s Show, the last season of which was a glorious train-wreck, and I noticed a phenomena which I have seen a few times in fiction. They play fast and loose with internal consistency. They do things that make no sense just to be funny. They even unapologetically  make fun of their mistakes. Still, as long as they kept making funny episodes, I didn’t really care. (Though I admit I watched the last season just to see the train-wreck pull into the station.

I pick on That 70s Show, but it isn’t the the only comedy show/novel/movie/play I’ve caught playing fast and loose for a quick laugh. So, the feeling I’m getting is that is you can be funny enough, you get a bit of a pass on making sense. Many times, I’ve told people that I will risk the hallowed rules of writing, Chekov’s gun, et al, for a cheap joke, but I often agonize over how far to go.

I’m currently 24,000 words into my latest (forth or fifth?) re-write of my work-in-progress. I’m really being pulled between my desire to tell a good story, tell a funny story, and make it seem natural and flowing–feedback from my critique group is that the story seems forced and rigid. I’ve even stopped going to my critique group because the story is causing a bit of a metaphysical crisis for me. I have this feeling like the way to tell this story lies deep inside my soul, not in external advice.

All I can do is keep writing and hope the answer comes in the next 24,000 words, or the 24,000 after that.

I’m a Man (Yes I Am)


The inevitable has finally happened. During my Paradise ICON critique* last week, I was accused of writing in a way that appealed mainly to men. It was even suggested to me that women didn’t want to read this sort of thing.

Honestly, I’m amazed this hasn’t happened sooner.

I don’t consider myself a poster child for testosterone poisoning. I’m basically a geek. I could design a small-office network and build their internal applications. I don’t really understand sports, but I could probably teach marching band. I prefer wine to beer. And my hobby is writing.

However, I think there are some things which are true of at least 95% of human beings with Y chromosomes. No matter how sensitive we are, no matter how much we believe in gender equality, no matter how proud we are of the strong female influences in our lives, boobs tend to draw our attention, to put us off our game even. I even know a few women who get distracted at the sight of a nice pair.

Is it cliche to write about men liking boobs? Is it cliche to write about joy or sadness or hope or love? Could any true male protagonist (or a few female protagonists) ignore vast tracts of well displayed cleavage? No. I say. Not ever. For when I write about men being distracted by boobs, I write about the human condition.

* I really didn’t come here to complain about it. I just couldn’t think of anything else to write about.