Category: writing process (Page 13 of 17)

The Guide to Being a Slow Writer

It’s time for me to confess: I am a slow writer.

I’ve tried to up my word count, to keep track of daily words, to do word sprints. I’ve tried getting up early; I’ve tried staying up later. I’ve tried finding my “peak writing time.” I’ve tried dozens of motivational methods, “productivity hacks,” and the like. But nothing has worked.

I am slow. Some days, I write 150 words. Some days, I don’t write at all. This is mostly due to time and energy. Working, taking care of two small children, and being pregnant with a third child all take their toll on my free time, physical stamina, and mental focus. This isn’t me grouching; it’s simply a fact of life and who I am. Maybe I have an iron deficiency, I dunno. But some days, I’m just not feeling it.

Some days, I can write closer to 2,000 words. When those days come, I’m grateful for them, but I have no idea how they happen or how to replicate them. In fact, I don’t think I’m supposed to replicate them.

Because I’ve come to learn that my creative process is not linear or predictable. Some might say that I need to get more disciplined, or that I need to treat writing like a job. Set the alarm for 5:00 a.m. and write those 1,000 words, dammit. But I already have a job; it’s a necessary evil. I don’t want my writing to become my job. Bradbury said, “Relax, don’t think, work.” Work is awesome; I love to work. I love to work on my blog posts, I love to work on my role-playing campaigns, I love to work on my lesson plans for teaching. Work — the kind that stimulates my heart and imagination — is fun.

But a job? A job is a drag, man. A job is stress. A job is plugging away at something simply because bills got to be paid and if they don’t, we’re living on the streets.

I don’t want writing to be a job; I do my writing to get away from my job.

What I’ve learned about myself over the past few months is that I need to let my imagination stew and ferment and congeal in order to be productive. What does it mean to stew, ferment, and congeal? It means I need to write in my “writer’s notebook” even if what I’m writing about has nothing to do with my Work In Progress (WIP). It means I need to listen to music that gives me goosebumps, or music that challenges me, or music that I’ve never heard before, or music I’ve heard twelve-dozen times. It means I need to spend a day writing a D&D adventure, or making up a character for my FATE campaign, or reading Conan stories. It means I need to go outside and play “Adventure” with my three-year-old instead of squirreling myself away from my family because “Mama needs to work.” It means watching Prisoner of Azkaban because it pumps me up, even though I could be using that time to write.

This isn’t procrastination. Procrastination is screwing around on twitter for three hours a day. Procrastination is not reading the latest SPFBO novel on my kindle, but reading a bunch of dumb political stories online instead. Procrastination is watching Antiques Roadshow all evening when I should really be noodling around in my writer’s notebook.

But listening to evocative music? That’s part of my writing process. Working on a side project? That’s part of my writing process. Doing something every day to stay in contact with my WIP, even if that means just rereading what I wrote yesterday? That’s part of my writing process. If that means it takes me several months to finish a draft instead of four weeks, then so be it. That’s several months of FUN instead of four weeks of hell.

And I’m not one of those writers who hates writing but likes “having written.” I LOVE when I’m actually writing; it’s like the greatest challenge and the biggest natural high all rolled into one. But I don’t love feeling like I have to do it, or that I’m a failure if I don’t do it everyday. I don’t love having a word quota. It looms over every word I write, that damn quota; it casts unforgivable, judgmental glares in my direction. It’s like having a boss leaning over my shoulder and tut-tutting every choice I make. No thanks! I’ll stick with undisciplined and happy, if that’s alright with the rest of you.

And I know there will be writers out there who will challenge this and say I’m just fooling myself. But when I try to set daily quotas, or I try to stick to a certain writing time, when I try to keep pace with other writers who release three or four books a year (or more!), I find myself mired in self-hatred, stagnation, and, ultimately, joyless writing. I don’t want writing to be joyless. I don’t want it to be a source of stress. And, well, maybe that means I won’t be a six-figure author (or even a five-figure one). And I’m okay with that. I don’t want writing to be “just a hobby,” but I’m not going to go against my nature just for the sake of a career.

I suppose this makes me a lousy entrepreneur. I’m okay with that.

I’m also okay with being a slow writer. In fact, I’m more than okay with it. I love it. Writing slow means writing with joy; it means making every moment of my day into a “working on my novel” moment. When I don’t have the obligation to write, I find my mind is more eager to engage with my story even when I’m doing other things.

Can’t manage to find the mental energy to write today? Totally fine. I managed to come up with a cool idea for my story while fixing lunch. Can only manage fifty words on my WIP? Awesome! Those are fifty words I didn’t have yesterday. Noodled around with that mega dungeon I’m stocking for my next RPG session? Excellent. It gave me a chance to be creative while stepping away from my WIP. Hearing a cool song pop up on my iPod (one I haven’t heard in ages)? Love it. That’s inspiration for the next scene I need to write.

When I make storytelling and creativity a seamless, integrated part of my life, I find that writing becomes easier, and that I have less pressure to switch from “writing time” to “other parts of my life” time. They all become the same thing. And by scaling back my goals, by keeping my deadlines modest, I become a happier, less stressed person.

Writing should be fun. And if that means being a slow writer, then I claim that title and wear it proudly.

I am a slow writer. And I love it.

Camp NaNoWriMo April 2017

Camp-2017-Participant-Profile-PhotoYsbaddaden and the Game of Chess (sequel to The Thirteen Treasures of Britain) is not making much progress. I had written about 7,000 words earlier this year, and then the Great Life-Altering News of 2017 happened: I found out I was pregnant. Again.

(Right. You see, I had a baby in October. THIS past October. 2016. So. Now we’re having “Irish twins,” a term I was unfamiliar with until the pregnancy test I took in January, and so here we are.)

Pregnancy, as it always does, makes me a grumpus in the first trimester, so I have not been inclined to work. (Okay, let me be honest: I slacked off. I got soft. I cherished the extra hours of sleep instead of being a highly disciplined word warrior who got her butt out of bed at 6:00 a.m. and got some serious writing done before the kids woke up. In my slight defense, I wasn’t getting much sleep since Mr. Baby [henceforth known as PJ] decided he wanted to start waking up every hour on the hour so we could put his pacifier back in.)

Anyway, Ysbaddaden suffered. The manuscript languished. I got lazier and lazier.

And that’s why I’ve decided to do Camp NaNo this month. I know I won’t finish the draft this month, but at least I’ll make some progress.

Because the beautiful thing about NaNo? Even if you don’t win — if you simply participate, if you write words you wouldn’t have written otherwise, if you get some inspiration, if you get re-energized and recharged, if you find a community of like-minded writers — then NaNoWriMo will be a success.

And what I need more than anything right now is some re-energizing. Let’s be honest: NaNo is simply fun. Camp NaNo even more so. The cabin assignments, the care packages, the slightly-kitschy camp-themed graphics and merchandise, the badges: it’s a place where writing ceases to be a solitary endeavor and instead becomes a communal celebration. NaNoWriMo is like one big writing party. And Mama needs a party right now.

For those who are doing Camp NaNo this month (or for those who are thinking of joining), my words of wisdom are these: Rediscover the fun of writing.

Camp is often a place for kids to rediscover nature and the spirit of camaraderie. For Camp NaNo participants, let’s rediscover what it’s like to be a kid. Let’s have adventures. Let’s tell stories around the campfire. Let’s create legendary moments that will live on in our hearts forever. Let’s delve into the depths of the lake, or search the wilds of the forest. Let’s eat lots of junk food and pull some pranks. Let’s sneak out at night and get into mischief. Most of all, let’s be wild and unfettered.

The Editing Process, Or How I Read Chris Fox’s Book and Everything Changed

I just re-read my post about being pregnant and wow, does it sound whiny. I won’t lie: things were not good in the first trimester. Sickness, extreme exhaustion, lots to do at my teaching job.

But reading that post now. Eeeeesh. I sound like a whiny whiner who whines.

My work habits have improved since then. Part of that is due to being off for the summer (yay! teacher-life!), but a larger part of my improved work habit is an awesome little book called Life Long Writing Habit by Chris Fox.

Fox’s 5,000 Words Per Hour was a revelation for me when I read it in November 2015. My word counts jumped from 500 words per hour to closer to 1,500 within the span of just a few weeks. If I hadn’t gotten so down in the dumps during the first trimester, I would probably be closer to 2,000 words per hour by now. I cannot recommend Fox’s book enough. His book is the only one I’ve read that has real, actionable steps that can be taken to improve one’s writing speed. I’ve read other books about writing more words per hour, but most of them just offer advice like, “write using an outline” or “don’t worry about typos.” This kind of advice is not helpful for the more experienced writer.

Fox’s book, on the other hand, was immediately helpful, and it will continue to be helpful as I move through my writing career. I am not a novice writer; I didn’t decide to *just* start writing. I’ve studied screenwriting in college, lived in L.A. and tried to get a job in television, took screenwriting courses, wrote articles about classic movies for different online publications, and taught English classes (nothing will hone editing/revision skills like helping teenagers improve their writing). I’ve been writing for a long time. Fox’s book is one of the few that hasn’t repeated a bunch of stuff I already learned in college; it offered me something new, and as of right now, it’s working. It was the kick in the pants I needed to get my writing speed up to “Moderately Prolific Indie Writer” levels (now I just need to level-up to “Insanely Prolific Indie Writer”).

Just a few weeks ago, I decided I needed another kick in the pants. Being in the doldrums earlier this year — and finding my revision process on Thirteen Treasures utterly stalled — I decided to pick up another one of Fox’s books. Lifelong Writing Habit didn’t come as highly touted as 5,000 Words Per Hour; it seemed to be the forgotten middle child in Fox’s “Write Faster, Write Smarter” series. However, it also seemed to be a motivational book, and I needed motivation.

True to its title, in just a couple of weeks, I have developed a ridiculously better writing habit. Whereas (since summer started) I couldn’t drag myself out of bed until almost 7:30, I am now getting up regularly at 6:00 a.m. and starting my day with writing. I used to avoid working on Thirteen Treasure revisions (for fear of failure, of course), but now I know that unless I get to work, my goals for the future won’t be realized. I now have much more concrete (and written down) goals for where I want my life and career to be. And I’m excited about writing again.

This is all thanks to Fox’s book.

Regarding my current revision adventures, I am currently in the trenches. I’m in the middle of the book, revising chapters that are messy, sometimes corny, and utterly mediocre compared to the chapters I’ve already revised. Deep revision like this is comparable to one of those snowball-rolling-down-a-hill things you see in cartoons (or Willow). One small change to a character’s motivation in chapter 2 is now having huge ramifications in chapter 7, and the new character backstory I invented in chapter 4 must be incorporated into the character’s reactions in chapter 9. The chapters I thought wouldn’t take as much time to revise are proving to be just as time-consuming as the utterly horrific chapters I’ve spent weeks revising.

I’ll be honest: At times, this revision process has made me feel like a failure. I had a publication date goal of June 22nd, but that date has come and gone, and I’m still revising the manuscript (let’s not even talk about proofreading yet, please).

My new goal is November for publication. Even though I’m moving my date back, it should be more effective in the long run. This gives me time to do what I originally intended to do: write books 2 & 3 before book 1 comes out. Being able to release all three books within a 6-month span should help with visibility and marketing efforts.

Lifelong Writing Habit has definitely improved my outlook in this regard. No matter what my publication dates are, I know that each day I get my work done, I get one day closer to my goals. This cannot be stated enough, my fellow writers: Everyday you work, you get one step closer. Days spent writing are never wasted days, even if it’s taking you longer than you hoped.

I have to keep reminding myself of this. If I keep working, the book will get finished. And it will get finished when it gets finished; looking back at past deadlines and sighing is not a productive habit. If I want to achieve my goals, I must look forward. I must keep doing the work that needs to be done, even if it’s not perfect.

I think perfectionism can hinder us not only in the actual words we write, but also in the habits we try to form: i.e., “If I’m not writing my 2,000 words an hour, then I am a failure.” This is false; it is a failure mindset. Better to say, “I wrote 700 words today. I want to get to 2,000, but 700 words today is more than I had yesterday.” Let’s call it the “Keep on keepin’ on” mindset. If we, as creative artists, can just keep on keepin’ on, we will achieve our goals.

I Will Be Bad at Marketing

In my twenties, I used to belong to a forum called Tolkien Online. This was when the Peter Jackson LOTR movies were going strong. I had read LOTR twice while in college and became a total fangirl. My love for fantasy literature had been rekindled (see my life’s story for more on that).

I loved Tolkien Online. There were vibrant discussions of LOTR movies, intelligent discussions of Tolkien’s books, threads for debates about religion and philosophy, even a thread dedicated to reciting Grateful Dead lyrics. I spent incredible amounts of time on Tolkien Online.

But then college ended, I got more enmeshed in the Classic Movie Blogosphere (not sure if that’s a proper noun or not, but it feels like it should be), and I fell out of the habit of posting to message boards.

Eventually, real adulthood happened (aka, my 30s), and I fell out of the habit of posting comments on my favorite movie blogs too. Basically, I didn’t have time to read a hundred comments a day and write something witty in response to them. I had a job. I had a family. I sorta, kinda, completely stopped being an active online presence in other people’s playgrounds.  (I never gave up blogging, though. That would be absurd.)

But now that I’m getting ready to publish my first book, I feel like I have to drum up some interest for the book on the interwebz. I have to “find my readers” and “gain an audience” and “market,” and I don’t want to be sleazy about it, I don’t want to just pop into some comments section and blab randomly about my book, or post annoying “Look at me!” posts on a forum where I’m a total noob. I want to make myself part of the community. I want to show that I’m not just a saleslady for my product. I want to be genuine.

So I joined two fantasy literature forums (I won’t say which ones). I didn’t post right away. I spent time reading the different threads and getting to know the lay of the land. And every time I came close to posting something, every time I thought that maybe I’d found the place where I wanted to jump in… I didn’t. I’d hit “reply” and get ready to type. And then… nothing.

I started beating myself up about it: You’ve got to get going! Your book is coming out in June! Establish relationships, build an audience! Make yourself part of these online communities! What are you waiting for? Just do it!

And yet, despite my self-badgerings, I still couldn’t do it.

I’m not in my twenties anymore. I’m not the message board gal I used to be.

It’s not where my head is.

It’s not where my voice is.

It’s not that I think message boards suck or anything. For many people, they are still awesome ways to connect.

But they’re just not for me. I can’t explain why, but I just don’t have anything to add to the conversations on these forums.

My blog is enough. I can ramble into the abyss all I want here.

My books are enough. I can express myself and communicate my ideas through them.

I don’t feel the need to be a commenter. I don’t have the drive to belong to a forum.

And I know this is a liability. I know that for a completely unknown author who doesn’t even have anyone reading her blog, I need to get my name out there. And yet… I’m not feeling it.

I’m more than ready to keyword-ninja my way through the Amazon algorithms, and I’m more than ready to pay for advertising. I’m doing Tim Grahl’s pre-launch strategies as best I can. But I don’t think I can be a full-time forum poster. I don’t think I can start reading a dozen blogs again just so I can get my “name” known in the comments.

If this means career suicide, I guess I’m fine with putting my head in the oven.

And the reason is that even if I did force myself to comment and post on different forums, my heart wouldn’t be in it. I’d be faking. I’d be as disingenuous as the sleaze-oids who post about their books on Twitter every five seconds. If I’m gonna go on Twitter, it’s gonna be so I can retweet awesome pictures of old movie stars. It’s not gonna be to hock my books.

Maybe I’ll do more on GoodReads. That feels more like “me.” If nothing else, I’ll try reviewing some books on there (which I’ve been meaning to do since forever).

But whatever I may do in my as-of-yet-non-existent career in self-publishing, I don’t want to be untrue to myself. I can’t fake things.

And if that means I’ll be bad at marketing, so be it.

Maybe I’ll find another way.

Revision Process, Phase 1

I’m in the midst of revising my second draft of The Thirteen Treasures of Britain.

Confession time: I’m not going to pay a professional editor. The reason I’m not is because I can’t afford it. Perhaps in time, once I’m selling oodles of books a day, then I can hire a professional copy editor. For now, I must rely upon my own skills.

(Side Note: I’m a high school English teacher during the day — and have been for five years — so I spend most of my time offering revision and editing suggestions to student-writers. I feel like I’ve got a pretty good handle on critiquing other peoples’ writing. Hopefully, I can transfer this skill to my own writing.)

But even if I were paying a professional copy writer, I’d still do a lot of revision myself. Copy editors are going to help with cleaning up the prose and the continuity of the text, but they can’t help with the structure or characterization. Of course, a structural/developmental editor may help with those things, but that kind of editor is even more expensive than a copy editor, and I think at this point in my writing life, I know what needs to be done structurally to make a story work. I’ve had a lot of training in screenwriting, and my teachers hammered structure, characterization, and dialogue into me with repeated force.

Maybe I will hire a copy editor for this book, who knows. The more I think about it, the more I think I could scrounge up $500 for one. But if I can’t manage that amount, then I’ll just make sure to go over my manuscript with incredible attention to detail. It can be done; it just takes a lot of patience.

Right now I’m in the “quick read-through” phase of the revision process: I set the manuscript aside for a couple of weeks, then I pick it up and read it on my kindle just as I would any book. While I read, I make super-quick notes in a separate notebook. I use symbols instead of writing anything lengthy because the symbols are quicker to write down and don’t interfere with the quick read-through process. (N.B.: I stole this idea from James Scott Bell in his excellent book Plot & Structure).

The symbols I use are as follows (again, heavily borrowed from Bell’s book):

Checkmark: Dragging
Star: Sentence-level revision needed (in other words, the prose is wonky or I need to work on paragraphing)
Circle: Need to add material
X: Cuts (either because I’m over-explaining, something’s not working, or I’m telling and not showing)
?: Plot hole/inconsistency

That’s it. I don’t write lengthy notes while I’m doing the quick read-through. The idea is to get an overall sense of the story. One of the reasons for this is that sometimes when I’m doing a read-through, I see a “flaw” and immediately start revising. Then I get lost in the rabbit hole of “tinkering” which is not really revision but just endless shifting of commas and clauses. The quick read-through and symbol system help me avoid getting sucked into this trap.

The other reason for the quick read-through is because I don’t believe a fundamentally flawed book can be fixed in revision. Not to be too gross, but trying to fix a fundamentally flawed book is like trying to polish a turd. Better to just flush that thing and move on.

If the quick read-through reveals that my story isn’t working — that on a structural level, something is off — then I need to start over. Dean Wesley Smith calls this the “redraft.”

When I wrote the first draft of Thirteen Treasures, I didn’t like it. It had some good moments, but overall, I found it to be fatally flawed. So I put it in a drawer and started over. My second draft for Thirteen Treasures is a completely new story. I’ve kept most of the main characters and a few of the settings, but the structure is new, the themes are new, and the overall energy and tone are new. I’m in the midst of the quick read-through now, and I can already say that I enjoy this new story so much better than the old one. It would’ve been a waste of my time to try and fix the problems of the first draft. With this second “redraft,” I’ve got something inherently solid that I know I can work with to make better.

It’s a bit daunting to do a “redraft” because it feels like the time spent with the previous draft was all just wasted time. But honestly, writing a new draft is a lot more fun than struggling to edit something that is fundamentally not good. Sometimes we as writers need to exhale some garbage and clear our creative heads before we can get to writing the good stuff. My first draft of Thirteen Treasures was the stuff I needed to exhale. The second draft was the story I really wanted to write. The quick read-through that I’m in the midst of now has shown me that this second draft is revision-worthy.

After the quick read-through, I’ll move on to Phase 2 of the revision process. More on that later…

“Lightning in the Black Bottle” Conclusion (Post-NaNo)

This story was originally written as part of NaNoWriMo 2015. To read the complete story, go to the MISCELLANY section of this website.

The Heron said nothing, and Jack had a wicked feeling that the stories weren’t true. This bird wasn’t anything special, just a strange creature that lived alone in an old forest. But then the Heron croaked and it was a terrible broken sound. It rolled its yellow eyes back into its head.

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