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My drug of choice is writing––writing, art, reading, inspiration, books, creativity, process, craft, blogging, grammar, linguistics, and did I mention writing?

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Best World Building (Semifinal Results Round 2)

And the finalists for our Best World Building Poll ARE.....


As you can see, we had some pretty epic ballot stuffing by our resident Discworld fan (so marshal your forces and call in the cavalry if you don't want the finals to be a blow out). I hear there are whole communities of rabid Tolkien fans....

However, the break between fifth and sixth place is actually pretty wide, so I'm happy to announce that everything from Terre D'Ange up will be going on to our final round.


Monday, July 13, 2015

For those on my feed.

[I posted this on all the social media where I cross post articles. But for those on RSS or various subscriptions.]

Last night I totaled up my hours for last week. I came in at 92 hours if you add in writing (about 70 before that), and no days off. No wonder I'm dropping so many balls when it comes to getting posts up on time and getting "crunchy" articles up at least twice a week.

I really really don't want to put Writing About Writing on a hiatus until summer school is over, but I feel like I'm already at maximum fluff. Here's hoping this week is a little better, and I can get back on track.

I've got a half written Mailbox that was supposed to go up today (all about the sequel to To Kill a Mockingbird and the shift in the character of Atticus).  However, I'm going to need some time to sit down and finish it.

Saturday, July 11, 2015

Ode to Writing

Trying to write.  

Trying.

It's been a rough day.

I know writing is the way out. It's ALWAYS the way out. Any mood, no matter how bad, can't withstand the catharsis of writing. Some moods endure through the writing, but they are diminished, and broken into bits more easily digested by processing, exercise, or even the next day's writing. Writing has always been just TOO therapeutic for me. It's just too restorative. Nothing can withstand its power indefinitely. It is my drug. My meditation. My anchor.

My home.

But getting to that point, sitting in front of that keyboard, staring at the blank screen, scowling, feeling worthless as the words don't come.... Deeling the weight of a thousand promised articles that remain unwritten and bouncing around in my skull like a pinball game during multiball.... Nothing coming into my head except ridiculous pinball metaphors.... Wanting to just slink back to bed.

That's the struggle.

One. One word. Just one. Then another. Make a sentence. Then one more. You can do it. Now try three sentences. Might as well finish the paragraph. There you go. Feeling better?

[Whether it's a downside or an upside, my heart is on my sleeve with this blog. And every time I'm having trouble writing, you all will be the first to know. I think it's important that young writers and starting writers see this. It's vital that they know that some days are a terrible struggle with the blank page, that real life gets in the way, that none of us are machines. But also that we don't let shitty days be an excuse to do nothing, that the writer sits down and scribbles something out anyway because that's how to push through. Books don't burst fully formed out of a lightning bolt of inspiration, but neither do they sit and wait only for the good days.]

Thursday, July 9, 2015

Discipline/The Real Deal

What if, in 7th and 8th grade, you, any “you”, studied music — started an instrument, started learning how to read music, started learning music theory. And then you never kept up with formal instruction. Now, some ten or twenty years later, you want to be a musician. Are you surprised that you can’t sit down and even READ a Rachmaninoff Piano Concerto, much less play one? Does writing something as simple as Mozart’s Spinning Song, which he wrote at something like age 5, or figuring out a basic harmony to “Tell Me Why” (the old summer camp standard), seem harder than interstellar flight — without a ship? Of course it does! You lack sufficient knowledge of the craft.

Why do you think, even with a university education, you can simply sit down and write a decent novel, in first draft yet, even in a genre that tells you what your plot is and who your characters more or less are?

We hear so much in writing circles about people who aren’t actually writing, “wanna-be” writers, making up tons of excuses for why they aren’t writing. The usual answer is to have discipline and carve out the time necessary to actually learn the craft. This actually IS the answer. Take some classes to learn about form and structure, join a critique group, follow blogs like this one, get Grammarly’s weekly newsletter, read lots of writing blogs and books. Be ruthless, with yourself and others, about setting aside time, no matter when, no matter how short a time, whether you feel like it or not, to write as close to every single day as you can. Set tasks as simple as writing a haiku a day (first learn what one is and how they are constructed. It’s not just ANY 17 syllables on ANY random topic) and follow through. Practice with words. Play with words. Yes, it DOES take discipline, but it must be done. Because that is how you learn your craft.

People who can’t find the discipline to actually write, I think, are people who know in their hearts they lack sufficient knowledge of craft, and have the underlying conviction that they will never, ever, ever produce writing that is up to their own standards, much less anyone else’s. They give it a shot every once in a while, know things are wrong, but don’t know exactly what things, and are utterly clueless about how to fix them. It’s simply too daunting to learn, so they make believe and make excuses. But it’s when you give up on the wishful thinking and the excuses and actually sit down and start doing it, and learning how to do it better, that miracles happen.

One day, the person who has put in the time and effort to actually learn the craft will come across a piece of writing, her or his OWN writing, and think, “This is good!” Then will come not a sentence, a paragraph, a plot line, but an entire work, and IT IS GOOD. Objectively good. It’s not embarrassing, with problems obvious even to you (but which you can’t fix.)   This person who had the discipline — and humility —  to put in the effort will suddenly realize that she or he is The Real Deal, an actual writer, not a wanna-be, potential, someday, magical, with never a bit of effort but a great many excuses, pseudo-writer.

At this point, “discipline” in terms of sitting down and writing ceases to be an issue. There are always half a dozen projects cooking in your head. There’s always a book in process, and eventually you are, like I am, juggling the book that’s coming out even as I write this (it’s kind of partially out) with the Next Book, which I am researching and plotting. I write my own blog, I guest blog here. I can’t resist writing poetry fairly often. It just leaps into my head and needs to go onto a page. When I FINALLY get my end of the months-long publishing process complete, and am only juggling blogging, reviews, appearances and all that, I will want to jump right into Book Three. For me, now, because I AM The Real Deal, I AM a working writer, MY discipline needs to go another way. I need to stop. I need to take a break. For at least a couple of weeks. I can read the history and folklore books I need for research. I can toy with plots in my head. But I cannot commit pen to paper or fingers to keyboard for a while. Book Three will be better for allowing my brain a chance to work in the background.  

So AM I The Real Deal? Check out my books — hardcopies of Book Two should be available sometime this week at Amazon, and e-formats and hard copies are wending their ways through the distributors to retail outlets — and see for yourselves.




Aren’t they PRETTY?  The bound galleys came yesterday!


[If you would like to do a regular or not-so-regular guest blog here at Writing About Writing, check out our guidelines and then drop me a line at chris.brecheen@gmail.com.]

Wednesday, July 8, 2015

June's Best: 2015

Though June marked the beginning of a tough summer with demanding schedules and even more demanding toddlers, a few articles managed to shine through. They will be added to The Best of W.A.W. and go on to ultimate fame and glory.   




Numbers are still low from the loss of Stumbleupon, but they're crawling back up toward the pre-setback levels. I have a feeling Blog isn't going to let me get away with my continued moping.

The other good news is this: unless you're one of three people I managed to get off my ass and write to, or one of two people who constantly assures me that I don't need to thank them, you may have sent a donation to W.A.W. and heard nothing back from me.

This is entirely because I suck and not due to any error on either your part or Paypal's. I suck. End of story.

I've been watching donations (even the ones big enough that I swore I would write a personal thank you for) pile up for MONTHS and I keep procrastinating and I finally got a donation that has shaken me out of my torpor. 

Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Best World Building (One Week Left!)

Gee. I wonder if someone is stuffing the ballot box again.
What is the best world building in fiction?

Our second round semi-final poll is about half way over. Please vote, vote again, or just come and see who is winning and who needs help if they're going to make our poll.

The second semifinal poll only has a week left before I tally the results and take the top five titles to the final round.

Everyone will get four votes (4). Before you simply vote for your favorite three, consider that, as there is no ranking of those three votes; each vote beyond one dilutes the power of your choices a little more. So if you have a genuine favorite--or pair of favorites--it's better to use as few votes as possible.

Monday, July 6, 2015

Why So Much Fluff?

Why has W.A.W. been been so fluffy lately?  

[Remember, keep sending in your questions to chris.brecheen@gmail.com with the subject line "W.A.W. Mailbox" and I will answer each Friday.  I will use your first name ONLY unless you tell me explicitly that you'd like me to use your full name or you would prefer to remain anonymous.  My comment policy also may mean one of your comments ends up in the mailbox. It may take me a few weeks before I can get to some of those longer questions.]  

Jon asks:

I've been reading for a while, but you really seem to be piling on the fluff these last few weeks. Is this the shape of things to come or can we expect a return to your usual pace of a couple of hard hitters a week. I don't mean this to be ungrateful or anything. It's more like your blog is the highlight of my day. I'm mostly wondering if everything is okay or if you're working on a big side project or what.

My reply: 

I dumped all my other questions to answer this one since the timing is auspicious.

I'm busted. Caught red handed. I mean, I wasn't really hiding it, but I was sort of hoping that no one would notice.

Some days I forget that I have fans. Not grudge followers or the morbidly curious or friends who deign to see what I'm up to or folks who will throw me a click when my title doesn't look too boring, but actual fans. People who will notice if I start posting a bunch of lightweight articles.

So I'm not sure how far back your perception of my fluffiness goes, but I can tell you that I've been faking it for a while. A WHILEThe Contrarian is getting older. While he has more ability to go a few minutes without direct supervision, he in that stage where he requires more interaction when he's not totally self contained. Turn away for just a few seconds and the 537 small plastic pieces that go in Neoblasters board game will be scattered in a glorious shimmering arc, silhouetted for one tiny eternity against the picture window before the fall into every nook, cranny, crevasse and heating duct across the living room.

He's also started to climb things. He hasn't fallen....yet. So right now it's all reward and no risk as far as he's concerned. He has no fucking clue what's waiting for him when one day he falls off a chair or a table.

So I might be able to get a few minutes while I put on Daniel Tiger or Dinosaur Train to hammer something out, but he's no longer taking 4 hours of naps or staying roughly in the same place you put him for more than five seconds. Who ever invented walking before five...come see me after class.

Then Sonic Gal took on a new patrol. It requires her to be on the streets for a couple of hours longer each day, which means I watch the contrarian that much longer. We took a while to figure out how that was going to affect my writing time. Wrecking Ball doesn't change a lot of diapers, you understand. Nor would we really want a guy with hands bigger than Butterball turkeys to try.

Right before things started to level out with all that, summer hit. I don't know how many teachers you know Jon, but summer isn't this relaxing oasis for most of us. It's when everyone who has patiently waited the whole year crawls over each other to get a piece of us. Suddenly you've answered so many plan RSVPs with "I guess I can do that since it's summer" that you're fucking busier than during the school year. Plus you get moms with guilt trips. ("Son, I want to see you. What else would you be doing that week?" Thanks mom. Very validating. I feel the deep respect for the househusband and the writing jobs.) So basically I've been running from one obligation to another like a chicken with my cliche cut off.

And then there is summer school. Take my busy ass schedule and stack about 20 hours a week on top of it, and you have a pretty good idea what I'm going through right now. I had a similar experience last year and the year before. I'm getting a couple of extra hours each day so I'm not on the verge of the same caliber of meltdown I was those times, but it's still hard to wrestle more than just a few minutes to sit and blog.

Most blogs would just go on hiatus for the six weeks. (Actually MOST blogs would have folded back around last October.) I would rather keep bringing you content even if I'm doing jazz hands a bit. Hopefully, in about three weeks, we will be back up to pre-summer school levels, and in the month after that, I can bring things back to a better pace. In the meantime, if anyone wants to send a professional housecleaner by my place, I can probably pop something thick and juicy out on Friday.

But telling me Writing About Writing is the highlight of your day is probably the one thing that can keep me pushing hard forward, despite how much the rest of my life is mercilessly nut-shotting me me right now.  In case you were wondering.