I just weighed my backpack with the computer and all my regular stuff inside: fifteen pounds, six ounces. Yikes. What’s more, that’s before I put that Pat Rothfuss novel in it.
I may need to rethink how I lug my crap around.
I just weighed my backpack with the computer and all my regular stuff inside: fifteen pounds, six ounces. Yikes. What’s more, that’s before I put that Pat Rothfuss novel in it.
I may need to rethink how I lug my crap around.
Yikes, I’m behind on everything, including this half-finished post, which has been sitting in my dashboard for over a week.
The ABA calls the Borders liquidation “unfortunate right-sizing.” What I know is that it was a long time coming. Sure, it’s easy to blame the failure of the chain on the economic crunch–a helluva lot of struggling businesses have failed–but Borders has been circling the drain for a long time.
Now, I realize as well as anyone that a huge company with thousands of employees will have people with ready complaints, but Borders was a special case. They had a revolving door of MBA corporate heads that didn’t know squat about selling books. They moved too late on ebooks and then stupidly hitched their wagons to Amazon.com. Endless, endless fuck ups.
The sad thing is that they were once a terrific store.
Now they’re in liquidation. What does that mean for readers and authors in general? This NPR article by Rachel Syme gives a good rundown.
What does it mean for me in particular? Well, not that I’ll be picking up some books at a steep discount. Here’s what it comes down to: Borders ordered quite a few of my Twenty Palaces titles. Now that they’re gone my print runs will be that much smaller. Of course the numbers weren’t fantastic anyway, despite the “Best of the year” listings and good reviews. And they’re mass market originals at a time when mass market paperback sales are in the crapper.
Will ebook sales pick up the slack? It would be nice to think so, but I have a wait-and-see attitude. Okay, that’s not completely true; I have a pessimistic attitude, but I recognize my pessimism and try my best to counter it. Still, the loss of so much shelf space for selling books–and the announcement that B&N will be following Borders’s lead by reducing book stock in favor of non-book merchandise–is painful.
Anyway, I have a great book to read, some story-thinking to do (I need to come up with a new project to obsess over), and festival food to lunch on. The Twenty Palaces series certainly isn’t dead, but it’s a tough time for everyone. And there’s always the option for me to self-publish in the series, if that becomes necessary (I hope it doesn’t).
Sherwood Smith mentioned this conversation she heard while attending Fourth Street. It interested me, because I’ve always thought there were a thousand ways a writer could fail. Make a list of ten? What could be easier!
But to make a list of ten things that most people wouldn’t? Something beyond “Follow the guidelines,” “Don’t play video games when you should be writing,” and “Don’t respond to reviews”? Something beyond the usual? I don’t know. Let’s see:
1) Don’t try to be a brand.
Companies are “brands.” Brands get slapped on products. But writers? They’re people, and what they create is more than a “product.” They’re works of art. Yes, the art is sold as a product, and maybe it’s bad art, or low art, or pop art, but it’s still art.
Brands guarantee a consistency of product, like frozen pizza, and you don’t want people to think your books are the same things every time, maybe with some minor variations in features or flavorings. I always catch shit when I say this, but novels are art. You may want to think of them as mere entertainment or whatever, but they are always art as well.
What writers have instead of a “brand” is a “reputation.” Have a reputation for being interesting, fun, sane, and humane. Have a reputation for writing great characters and surprising stories. Instead of putting out the same old work every time (that matches your “brand”) be amazing.
2) Don’t blame other people.
It’s hard to be rejected, to have your queries bounced, to get bad reviews, to have poor sales. What’s more, it’s tempting to put the fault on external forces. Your publisher didn’t market you enough, that agent doesn’t know good writing, blah blah blah.
But here’s the deal: The person who takes the blame is the person who takes the credit–because that’s the person who has the power. Do you want to break into publishing (or a bestseller list) or do you want to be discovered? Do you want to be an active or passive participant in your career.
I say: If you can’t reach your goals, blame yourself. Even if it’s not true. Behave as though the power to reach your goals is yours. You might as well, right?
3) Don’t have contempt for the market.
Crap Plus One. It’s death and failure all wrapped up in one. Don’t look at the bad books and try to do a little bit better, and don’t tell yourself, “My work may not be great, but it’s better than [published/successful book]!” Aim high instead.
4) Don’t have writing rituals.
I used to have writing rituals. I used to need a certain arrangement on my desk, a certain type of music, etc etc. What happened? My life conspired to strip those rituals from me one by one. I had to learn to be creative without them.
Don’t make cigarettes part of your process, because someday you may want to quit and you’ll find that you’ve quit writing, too. Don’t be precious about the kind of paper or the color of the ink in your pen. Sure, it’s fine to have favorites–to indulge yourself a little-but you really don’t want to fetishize the process. Just get the words from your brain into the world.
5) Don’t come to the page cold.
Writing time shouldn’t be just while you’re writing. Spend a little of your day thinking and planning what comes next. It makes the work easier than if you just turn up at the keyboard and think “What now?”
6) Don’t shit-mouth yourself.
This different from blaming yourself. When you blame yourself for a failure, you’re taking control of it and resolving to do better next time. When you talk crap about yourself–what you can’t do, what you can’t write–you diminish yourself.
And it must seem funny coming from me, since I’m the king of self-recrimination. But the truth is that shit-mouthing myself has hurt me. It’s limited me. I’ve convinced myself I could only do X words a day when I should have been pushing myself to do X+1 and as a result I’m still a slow writer. It’s held me back.
Which means I get to bad mouth myself about bad mouthing myself. That’s pretty much a dream come true.
7) Don’t write sitting down.
This is a hard one and I can’t do it all the time, especially since I do so much of my writing at the library or a coffee shop. But sitting for hours and hours is really awful for your body. I use my little standing desk whenever I can. You should try to do the same.
8 ) Don’t make other people’s mistakes.
It’s easy to let other people guide your choices. Sometimes they do it overtly by giving notes or criticism. Sometimes they do it second hand by creating something compelling you want to emulate.
Don’t be guided by other people’s ideas. Their responses? Sure. That’s useful feedback and you never stop learning from useful feedback. But if you’re going to make mistakes and fail, do it with your own work.
9) Don’t be impressed by “talent.”
Talent is a really nebulous concept, and personally I think it’s pernicious. We slap the “talented” label on people as an honorific, because their work is original, subtle, and most of all, accurate.
But the truth is that the text on the page is the end result of many influences, with “study” and “careful practice” at the top of the list. “Talent”–as it’s normally thought of–isn’t something you can control, and it will never, ever be enough. The best thing a writer can have is a willingness to practice intelligently and the ability to learn without preconceptions. If you have talent (whatever it is) great; if not, no big. Keep practicing and trying new things.
10) Don’t sweat anything but the writing.
Don’t worry about awards. Don’t worry about theory. Don’t worry about valuing character over plot. Don’t worry about the “hardness” of your setting. Don’t expect to be liked by everyone. Don’t expect anyone to care what you’re doing. Don’t fret your feelings for Jesus, or Obama, or Dr. Who. Don’t fret over submission guidelines (which are simple to follow). Don’t fret over internet arguments.
Can you write things that people want to read? If so, you’re doing what you need to do. Go you. If not, all the internet squabbling about art and genre or who deserved what award won’t do a damn thing for you.
Bonus 11th thing: Don’t take advice from people like me.
Instead of listening to people’s advice, pay attention to what they do. Examine things for yourself, with an open mind. The things you learn by your own study will be worth more than 100 blog posts and lists.
And… yeah. I wrote about writing again. On my blog. What the hell is wrong with me?
I’m downtown today so I can work at the central library (my local branch is closed on Fridays) and of course I dropped in to the liquidation sale at Borders.
Borders was good to me, if you know what I mean. They ordered my books and stocked them, and judging by what I could see on the shelves, they took more than B&N. So I’m grateful that they stocked my books.
But I couldn’t bring myself to buy anything from them now. Once they’re in liquidation, you KNOW that nothing spent in that store will be going to the publishers or authors. Every penny is going to secured creditors and executive bonuses, and if I’m going to live with the guilt of that, I’m going to need 50% off, at least.
Anyway, in fun human games, today I witnessed a woman astonished to discover that she would have to buy something in the cafe if she wanted to site down in there and use their wireless internet. Shocking, I know.
Finally, I need to get off the web. For some reason I can’t connect to the library wifi, and I’m forced to log on with one of the library’s computers. And! since creepy motherfuckers use these computers to look at pron videos all the time, I feel like washing my hands.
Have a great weekend you guys. If you’re at SDCC, have a greatest weekend.
Stay hydrated!
1) Just in case you’re incapable of expressing emotion on your own…
2) A nice Dresden Files animation. Video. (link updated)
3) Voldemort didn’t go to a better place.
4) The ten worst lines in sf films.
5) Edible Hogwarts.
6) I can’t believe I didn’t think of this. PostSecrets from fictional characters (and pets) Brilliant!
7) “Damn it feels good to be a Lannister.” Video.
I was working on A Key, An Egg, An Unfortunate Remark today, trying to make up for my low productivity yesterday (doctor’s office visit and unfamiliar neighborhood can complicate things). But what do I find when I show up at my local library?
My hold on A Dance With Dragons has come through and the book is right there on the shelf waiting for me. Do I stop revisions so I can start the new book?
What I figure is that I’ll end my work session a little early, as soon as I finish this chapter… no, I forgot I needed to add this character to this scene… hey, this is turning out pretty good, I should make a note to change that other chapter… and now I need to fix the thing with the safe… and why don’t I wrap this part up here.
In the end, I worked until well past my usual writing time, just because I was enjoying it. (The revision is 1/3rd done. I send it to my agent after that.) But! I get to walk home with the book and read it all the way, now that the sun has come out.
Only three weeks to read a thousand pages! I know I won’t be renewing this baby, so time to get cracking.
Author Kate Elliott has an interesting post on a new way to classify stories: by the characters who drive them.
Folks in comments are listing the characters (with accompanying story lines) that they can’t stand, and it’s a lot of the usual stuff with some interesting ideas mixed in.
Here’s my list of character genres I can’t stand:
* Anything with rock stars. Even authors I really really like will try my patience with rock musicians and their boring problems. It doesn’t help that I don’t think music translates well to the page.
* Two characters with an instant soul-mate bond. I just don’t find it compelling.
* The troubled cop with the dying wife. Not terrible, I guess, but I seem to have read too many of them.
* The recovering alcoholic detective. Another non-compelling character.
* The Devious Fantasy Character. I bounced off one really well-regarded fantasy series because one character’s Plot To Destabilize Everything still hadn’t come to fruition after 100+ pages. Not compelling.
* The Badass Who Punches Down. You guys recognize that Keith Olbermann reference, I guess? Whatever you think of the man himself, the rule that people should always punch up, never punch down (iow, attack those more powerful than you rather than less) is a good one. And yeah, I consider snark and sarcasm to be punching.
What about you guys? Any “character genres” you particularly dislike? (Be sure to check out Elliott’s post.)
Tim O’Brien’s “How To Tell A True War Story.”
Fucking wow.
Me? Writing about how to write??
I know, not my usual beat, but I think I’d like to highlight a few things:
For today, I want to talk about how we study writing. First, check out this post on passing exposition through character voice by Kelley Eskridge. Go and read it. It’s wonderful writing whether you need the lesson or not.
Second, look at this post by David Hines regarding character identification. In it, he breaks down several sections of A Song of Ice And Fire to examine where GRRM succeeds and fails, partly reinventing the Eight Deadly Words Test at the same time.
I offer these two links from two very different writers not only as worthy lessons in themselves, but as a model for learning to write. There are an awful lot of people happy to talk about the art and craft of writing in purely theoretical terms: how to build tension, how to write dialog, how to endure the midbook slump. I once read a writing advice book that listed the six ways a writer could introduce and establish a sympathetic protagonist.
Here’s a probably apocryphal story: An aspiring thriller writer wanted to be a bestseller, and he heard that Robin Cook, who wrote Coma, studied the thriller market first by reading 100 successful books in the genre. The aspiring thriller, hearing this, decided he would just read Cook’s novel, since all the lessons would be distilled in there.
There’s a lot of pre-digested literary theory out there, but I think the best way to learn is to find work like your own that you also admire and study it closely. Retype a chapter so you aren’t tempted to skim. Reread several times. Look for text where you think things are being done badly. Most important of all, develop your own theory rather than receive them second-hand.
Theoretical conversations can be interesting and fun, but speaking from personal experience, I say study texts.
Today for you is not today for me, since I’m writing this well in advance of July 5, but this post is going live this morning because today is Book Day for Charles Stross’s Rule 34 (ignore that cover art). You know what’s awesome about being a novelist? Getting books way before everyone else does.
Rule 34 is a sequel to Halting State, a near-future crime novel about an investigation into a bank robbery that takes place inside an MMORPG that spills over into the real world in a big, ugly way. That was a good book. Rule 34 is a better one.
Detective Inspector Liz Kavanaugh is the only major returning character from the first book and, as a result of the investigation in the first book, she has been assigned to an internet watch squad, monitoring people to see if the pron they’re checking out is legal. When one of her old collars turns up dead in his home under suspicious (and extremely odd) circumstances, she gets drawn into another deeply strange mystery.
But what makes this book really work for me is the character of Anwar. He’s so funny and real, he honestly blew me away. The other characters, including the wary, self-aware detective and the American who isn’t… er… neurotypical, are terrific, but the book really comes alive when he’s the POV. I wish I had written him.
Highly Recommended.