We Will Write No Book Before Its Time

I was supposed to have a sub out on the market this week. I thought it was finished. It should have been finished. I went through an extra draft on this puppy. Y'see, I thought it was done, but after letting it sit for over a week I went back and read over it and decided it was missing something. Paragraphs were excised, large chunks got rewritten. Then it got one final pass when I typed it onto the laptop. More cuts, additions, substitutions, etc.

That's when I hit another problem. The publisher I picked as my first victim market has a short-story line with a maximum word count of 14K. Their regular book line starts at minimum 15K. My final word count falls roughly in the middle, at around 14,300. The old system assured me I was under 14K. The laptop disagrees. The laptop version is the one that gets emailed out to publishers. Yeah well.

Just as well, because shortly after I finished typing I realized I'd made a factual error, in the sex scene, of all places. What the one guy does is totally in character, but would result in severe physical trauma in real life. His partner's going to have to take over and make sure nobody gets hurt. That should add some extra verbiage, which will solve the word count problem. In fact, I may just give the entire last third of the story another go-over. I kind of rushed it toward the end because I was trying to stay within the short-story line's parameters. Now that I know I have room to play in, I can go back and do it right.

This entire story ran late from the start. Originally I intended it for an anthology. I was hoping a set-in-stone deadline would make me write faster. I also thought I knew where the plot was going. Except inspiration threw me a curve. There I was, outside pulling weeds and minding my own business, when suddenly the reckless character up there told me what had happened to him in the past and why he was living as he was. There went my character motivations right out the window. Replaced by better ones, I think, but still.

That course correction messed up my timetable. It came down to a) plow ahead and fight to make deadline, or b) say screw the anthology and take however long I needed to tell the story the way it wanted me to. After double-checking the publisher's website and assuring myself I'd still have a market, I elected to let the deadline pass and be true to the story instead. Good thing: the anthology's maximum word count was 10K words. I was still going strong at that point.

Like I said, I thought I had it done. Then the problems I mentioned cropped up. I want to get a sub on the market. The more I put out there, the better my chances of making a sale. At the same time, I want my subs to be in the best possible shape before I kick them out the door. I owe that to the readers. Even more, I owe it to the characters.

Writing's a pain in the ass sometimes. You think you've got the story locked in. Then your muse heaves herself up off the couch and decides to do her job. Suddenly alternate plot ideas come flying at you right and left. Or the characters you want to end up together decide they can't stand each other and want to be with other people. You try to shove them down the road to Oz. They don't want to go to Oz. They abandon the Yellow Brick Road and take off for Mordor because the bars are better, and you're left staring at a blank page or screen and wondering what the hell just happened.

Writers both dread and dream of this moment. We all want the story to surprise us because that's proof it's alive. If our own stories can surprise us, their creators, imagine the fun the readers are going to have. On the other hand, those same demanding, chatty characters can shut up just as suddenly as they started yammering. This is known as writer's block. Now what do you do?

Recommendations abound. Force your way through the block. Let the story rest a bit and go write something else. Try writing the scene from another character's POV. It all ends up at the same bottom line: that story ain't going nowhere until it decides it wants to, regardless of what you the writer want.

Serena, if you're reading this, this is why you haven't seen Preacher's story yet. I started it a couple times. I wrote scenes out of order. Nothing helped. Gavin and Reese have issues to work out before they're ready to talk to me. I suspect it has something to do with that bad guy who wasn't supposed to be part of the story but decided to stick his nose in. He isn't talking yet. When I get a better picture of who he is, I'll be able to move ahead. Until then we're at a standstill. Sorry 'bout that.

This current story really wants me to write it, but it wants me to write it correctly. So I'll do what it wants. If it wants me to fix up the ending, okay. If it wants to be longer than 14K words, then I'll make it as long as it asks for. Another publisher just opened up a shapeshifter anthology. Their maximum word count is 18K and the deadline's next February, so I've got a backup market. There's also self-publishing, although I'm a bit leery of that at the moment.

Meanwhile, another idea just kicked down the door and wants me to commit it to paper. I wrote four pages this morning. I have no idea how it ends yet. I'm hoping the characters tell me and don't just lead me on and then shut up. Damn teases.

I miss regular work sometimes. Oh wait. No I don't.

Spring Thaw

Finally, it’s spring! Theoretically. This week we had a snowstorm, icy roads and record low overnight temps. It’s supposed to nudge into the 60s this weekend, so spring’s at least trying to get here.

The Susquehanna River’s not the only thing that’s finally thawing out. The writer’s block that’s been with me for most of last year is breaking up at last. Remember those three-four stories I was bouncing around between? One of them finally stuck. I’ve been working on it steadily and inspiration is starting to pick up speed. If I’m not careful, I could have it done soon. Then it’s rewrite, polish and bam! I’ll have a finished manuscript to send out. The last time that happened was about a year ago. For those of you wanting a writing career, here’s a hint: you have to write, and you have send stuff out. Good stuff. Repeatedly, and as often as possible. Sorry, but that’s the only way to do it.

I’m not going to say which story it is because I don’t want to jinx it. Bits of it have appeared here and on my other blog as free reads. Have fun guessing.

What did I learn about beating writer’s block? Sadly, not much of anything. I never stopped writing entirely. I continued to write something every day, even if it was only a paragraph. I just didn’t finish anything. None of the ideas logjammed in my head grabbed hold and demanded to be written. I even entered a writing contest with deadlines in the hopes that would force me to finish something. That didn’t work either. Luckily I didn’t get anywhere in the contest, so it didn’t matter anyway. Here’s something I did learn: when you force yourself to write a book, that book will end up crap. That manuscript, or as much as I completed of it, has joined my other abandoned books and false starts in the closet, where it will sit until inspiration rears its head again.

Because that’s the beauty of writing. Some of these things never actually die. They just go dormant, like those flower bulbs you planted last fall. (We’re swinging back into the spring analogy here. Bear with me.) Then, when it warms up and the ground thaws out, they break through the soil, reach for the sun and yell, “Write me!” That was the case with my current WIP. It started out shaky, went cold for a while, then had an unexpected resurgence. Now it looks like I could actually finish it. Take that, writer’s block!

Sure, you’re bound to reap a weed or two, but some of these stories will come back to life and bloom into something beautiful. It all depends on the plant food, not to mention fertilizer. Yes, folks, sometimes writing requires mounds and mounds of shit.

Sorry. It’s been a brutal winter.

What I meant to say is, don’t give up. Not on writing, and not on what you write. Stories hit plot snags or go cold. Sometimes they die. Sometimes the wall slams down. If you’re serious about being a writer, you just have to plow on through. Eventually the temperatures rise, the sun climbs higher in the sky and the ice on the river breaks up. Remember, spring also brings floods. Hope your typing fingers can keep up.

Here’s a legitimate tip, a little game I’ve been playing to keep me going and help shake the ideas loose. I keep track of my daily page count on a calendar, hung up on the wall where I can see it. Every day I try to match or surpass the page count from the previous week. The challenge keeps me working, and guarantees I’ll write something on any given day. Even a single paragraph is progress.

Granted, sometimes it’s hard to even match when I’m writing longhand. Once I start typing up the handwritten pages, watch those page counts soar!

Now all I need to deal with are my procrastination issues. For instance, I just wrote this blog instead of working on the story. Okay, I’m done with this excuse. Onward and upward!

Catching My Breath

Good day, eh? And welcome to the Great White Northeast. This week we’re enjoying a break in the action, with temps in the 40s and set to hit 50 this weekend. Now we’re keeping an eye on the rivers and streams because if all that snow melts too fast we could be stuck with flooding. If it’s not one thing …

This warm-up is only temporary, alas. Another blast of cold air is headed our way, and we could be entering March on waves of more of the white stuff. March isn’t coming in like a lion; this year it’s a snow leopard. If it doesn’t warm up soon we’ll still be skiing in June. Dog sleds, anybody?

For those ticked off at the meteorologists forecasting all this crap, take heart: God is just. The Lancaster TV station had to evacuate when the weight of the snow caused their studio’s roof to collapse. Nobody was hurt, but they were off the air for two days. They were only running the Olympics anyway. Philadelphia’s NBC affiliate picked up the slack until Channel 8 got the roof fixed. Bet they can’t wait for spring either.

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Last week, while stocking my fridge in anticipation of the nor’easter, I got wondering what I’d pick for my last meal if I knew for sure the world was ending. Pizza? Spaghetti? Beef and broccoli? There’s so much good stuff out there. After much deliberation, I decided I’d cheat and hit a buffet, probably Chinese. We’ve got a really great Chinese buffet out on Route 30 with a varied menu and delicious food. They even have a few American items so little kids (and their parents) intimidated by foreign foods don’t have to go hungry. I doubt if I’d try sushi, though. Why face Armageddon eating something I’m not even sure I’d like? The whole point is to go out on a high note, which is why I’d probably pick up a Snickers bar or Reese’s on the way home. Then a cup of tea and something junky as the lights go out. That’s how I want to go to my reward.

Besides, with a buffet you don’t have to cook. There’s nothing worse than going to your doom with dirty dishes in the sink. An unmade bed or dirty toilet, eh. I can die with a messy toilet on my conscience. Chances are excellent I’ll be on the toilet when the end arrives. It all depends on what and how much I eat.

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And yes, Stray Kitty’s still kicking. Those of us on the block putting plates out have kept him and the neighborhood’s other strays fed through every storm. SK’s even gotten fat. And spoiled. He’ll sit and wait for the moist stuff out of the can even when there’s dry food in the bowl. I hate to put out canned stuff in this weather because it’s wet and therefore freezes. SK doesn’t like leftovers, either. Luckily for my wallet, there’s a big gray tabby from across the street who’s still desperate enough to eat anything. He shows up every now and then and cleans out the bowl.

You’d think a cat living out on the streets wouldn’t be so picky. Maybe we ought to name him Morris.

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I’m still struggling with a massive case of writer’s block, but I’ve managed to make some progress. I’ve got my list of possibles narrowed down to three. Mostly I’ve been working on the fourth one, the free read I’m posting over on Shapeshifter Seductions (www.shapeshifterseductions.blogspot.com). I’m about three chapters ahead on that one. Too bad I don’t consider my blog posts as part of my daily writing requirements. If anybody has any tricks for dealing with procrastination, please let me know. I’ve already stopped doing housework.

# # #

I have one other thing to look forward to besides spring. Supernatural's been renewed for a tenth season. Another year of Sam and Dean! And Cas? Dunno yet. I'll keep watching the spoiler sites and let you know when I hear something.

Still no female regulars on that show, but I don't care. A pretty girl would just eat up screen time better used on the pretty boys. Yes, I'm shallow. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to eat Chinese.

The Scary Blank Page

After a hectic day, I’ve paused long enough to remember I am scheduled to blog today. So I’ve poured myself a glass of wine (it’s 7.30pm here) and sat down to face a blank computer screen with no idea what to write.

I rarely experience writer’s block, but nothing of interest has come to mind, so I’m going to examine the subject. Although I make up my stories as I write and often sit down at the computer with nothing specific planned, I always know my characters well before I start a new book. For me, the plot and progress of the story spring from the actions of the characters. By writing this way, I hope my characters always behave ‘in character’.

One of my personal bugbears is when I read a book where a character acts in a way I know they wouldn’t because the character needs to do a certain thing to fit the plot. I may be wrong, but this suggests to me the author had the plot worked out in advance and followed the plan even when the characters grew into people who wouldn’t act in that way.

I have heard other writer’s say they need a plot outline to free their minds to write the story, and that if they sit down to write with no plan their mind seizes up. My process works the other way around. Writing an outline ties me down and kills my creativity. I’ve written a detailed outline only once. My brain found the process of sticking to the outline so restricting, I had to write a second book at the same time with no pre-planning at all so I didn’t go mad.

Perhaps it all comes down to personality. I am fairly organised (I’ve run my own business for 20 years, so I have to be) but when it comes to writing, my mind switches gear, or more correctly, shifts out of gear and free wheels.

What about you? Do you face your blank page with a plan in hand, or wait for your characters to tell you what to write?