The Damsel and My Worst Fear

Has it really been six months? My. I'm sorry, folks. I am still alive and I am still writing. Here's what I've been up to since my last post:

• "The Damsel" won first place in the fiction division of the OPUS writing contest. I was unable to make it to the awards ceremony because I had work, but my good friend Bethany was nice enough to accept the award on my behalf. She read the first few pages of the story and from what I've been told, the audience reacted quite well. One of my professors in attendance emailed me to say that the audience laughed and murmured in appreciation. We're printing the story in our school's literary magazine as well, so we're hoping that "The Damsel" might be a draw for students to pick that up once it comes out. It's rather killing me that I wasn't there to read the piece myself and see the reactions with my own eyes. The whole night at work all I could think was, somewhere out there, someone is hearing my story, and I have no idea how they feel about it. I suppose that's something I'm going to have to get used to at some point.
• I graduate in 3 weeks. 3 weeks to the day, actually. I'm quite looking forward to it at this point. This semester has been eating me alive, between 17 credits and two (and later three, sort of) jobs. That's one of the major reasons why I haven't posted here since late November. Soon, though, I will be done with school entirely and I will have time for these sorts of things. Even more importantly, I will have time for finishing Zenith and moving onto my next project (it involves time travel!).
• Another big reason I haven't been around is that I haven't had the strength. I have carpal tunnel and tendonitis in both hands/wrists and it's been really bad this year. Even with a brace, typing is hard and I was only able to do it in short bursts. Most of the time, I had to dedicate that to my homework assignments, and some of those I couldn't even manage. Thankfully, my professors were understanding and gave me extensions on the larger papers, but blogging was absolutely out of the question. So was writing. I was basically starting in on my worst fear: losing my hands. The absolute worst part about it was not that I was in constant pain, but that I couldn't write about it. That was all I wanted, to write about how it felt, and I couldn't. That pain goes so much deeper.

Draft 3, here I come!

November 2009, I sat down at my computer thinking "Okay, I can do this: I can write a novel." As the months wore on, I started to question the validity of that statement. Could I really write a full novel? I knew I could start one, I'd done that dozens of times before, but could I actually finish one? Most days, I wasn't so sure, but I kept at it anyway. Then in February 2010, I did it: I finished...the first draft.

Then a few months later, the second. In July, I sent out copies of my manuscript to a few willing participants who had promised me feedback. One of them responded with notes on the entire novel, another on the first twelve chapters, still another on the first chapter (though, to be fair, this was all she had received).

And now, in November of 2010, a little over a year after I first began this project, I am beginning work on the third draft of Zenith.

I once compared rewriting to surgery:

For years I have heard authors toss around this phrase, that all writing is rewriting. I want to tell them they've got it backwards, that all rewriting is writing. You have a fully formed first draft and suddenly, you are starting from scratch. There is no such thing as a minor edit at this point, this is not plastic surgery. This is orthopedics, the breaking and reforming and placement of bones, the bare skeleton of what you wish to create. This is heart surgery and brain surgery, this is fixing the insides of a story so that it can live and breathe and speak on its own someday. You recreate the story, instead of making it look better. You rewrite it. Re-write. Write again. You essentially write a second novel, by fixing up that first draft. 

 I stand by everything I said then and I am happy to say that my patient is out of the woods and stable these days. No more trauma surgery, no more heart or brain surgery. I now get to move on to the less threatening issues. I can focus on the lacerations and bruises, make sure everything is okay and stable. I get to comb my novel for inconsistencies, make sure my characters and my story get across well enough, and destroy all evidence of typos and grammar faux-pas. This is plastic surgery, the surface reformations and beautification stage. I hope it comes out pretty enough, in the end.

NaNoWriMo '10 - Why are You Participating?

There are many reasons why writers and hopeful writers join in the fun insanity of NaNoWriMo each year, but I thought it would be important to touch on a few of them, for the first year participants especially.

I want to write the Next Great American Novel.
That's awesome! I am all for that and I support you fully...but NaNo is not the place to start. The thing about NaNoWriMo is that you are writing so much on such a short, fairly unrealistic (in terms of a complete novel) deadline, that whatever you write is going to suck. Letting your work suck is the only way you will finish by 30 November, trust me. You will not be able to write an amazing work of Literature during NaNoWriMo, but you can get a start, which brings me to the next reason.

I want to get my ideas down.
This is the much more realistic and sane approach to option A above. Don't worry about specifics or quality, just get your ideas down on the page and get that word count up. 50,000 words of crap may not make a novel, but it makes for one hell of a detailed outline for the Next Great American Novel. Use it as a guide to help you actually write a novel after November has ended and I think you'll find it much easier to navigate your ideas when they are on the page than when they are floating freely in your head.

I want to get into the habit of writing everyday.
This, my friends, is what NaNo was created to do. NaNo is not about writing an amazing novel that you can send off to agents on 1 Dec (note: do not do this. Under any circumstances), it is about writing everyday, getting words out even when you feel like you don't have much to say. When you force yourself into doing it and have a quota to make each day, you are much more likely to write. And as Madeleine L'Engle said, "inspiration usually comes during work, rather than before it." Sometimes the hardest part of writing is just sitting down and starting—that's what NaNo is meant to help you with.

NaNo Countdown: 3 hours

NaNoWriMo '10 is about to start and has already started for some of you. Exciting, right? More like terrifying. I just had my first case of Writer's Doubt and Panic and November hasn't even started yet. I'm not entirely sure where my story is going or if I even have an actual plot. Yes, I posted that bit about Caroline, but I don't think it's strong enough to carry the whole story. I've toyed with other ideas, both to improve this story and to pursue other options.

Panic is common, doubt even more so. Getting past that and getting words on the page is what makes you a writer.

NaNoWriMo in Years Past

I mentioned yesterday that this is my 4th year doing NaNoWriMo and since this blog is not old enough for me to have mentioned these before, I thought I'd make a list of the different stories I've attempted and the different issues I've faced in writing them (ie: why I didn't finish).

2006: The Elemental Spell: Fantasy/Humor
Main Idea: An alchemist in a parallel universe accidentally kidnaps two step-siblings from a Ferris wheel in our world when attempting a spell for beef Wellington. The three try to re-open the portal between the worlds to get the children home safely, but another alchemist wants to exploit it because Earth items are the biggest trend. Basically, all alchemists are Earth fanboys. Lots of satire, really stupid jokes, and a dictionary as a spellbook.
Why it Didn't Work: My computer died somewhere around 25k. It was tragic.
What Happened to It: I have since worked on this, but while I love it, I realize it's not entirely worth fixing. Someday I may rewrite it, but for now it would require too much effort to fix all the major faults.

2007: Reconnect: Realistic/YAL/Teen Drama
Main Idea: Two teens who live next door to each other and grew up as friends have grown apart by the time they enter high school and reconnect online. Delilah is sort of a preppy girl with good grades and a booming social life, but she's sometimes pressured into things by her friends that she doesn't want to do. Max(?) is a geeky shy guy who is one of the smartest kids in class, but sticks to the wayside.
Why it Didn't Work: It sucks. Sucks sucks sucks sucks. I gave up on it completely way before the ending and I can't believe I started it. Also, I'm not very good at realistic fiction, tends to bore me.
What Happened to It: About a year later I lost the document completely after a freak file naming accident. I have a few scraps on paper left over and a few pieces from my old writing blog, but for the most part it is gone. Which is good because it sucked, but I also sort of miss it, just because it was a piece of me.

2008: Nothing!


2009: Zenith: Science Fiction (YAL)
Main Idea: Rob's grandfather, Fagan, lives on one of the last true farms in existence, but he's being forced to move soon. Fagan doesn't want to leave his home, but more than that, he's hiding a plane illegally in the barn. Air travel no longer exists, outlawed for "safety reasons" by the government, but this turns out not to be true. After Rob discovers that his new friend Risty is part cyborg, she blackmails him and his grandfather into helping her discover the truth in what's really happening behind the clouds.
Why It Didn't Worked: For one, I got really attached and I loved it. The world was new to me, something I could create, but didn't have to be so far off from our own. But more than that, the characters felt real. They were distinct, but not unheard of, they had stories and faults and heart and I loved them to pieces, even when I disagreed with what they were doing. I had a good idea of who they characters were and what they wanted and where I wanted to go with the story and I went there. I reached a point when I didn't know what was going to happen next, but I kept on writing and well, that's when the good stuff happened.
What Happened to It: I have since finished writing Zenith and gone through a few rounds of edits. It is currently in the beta reading stage and once I have more time on my hands (Christmas break, most likely), I'm going to edit it again and once I feel I've done enough, I'm going to query it to agents.

NaNo Countdown: 8 Days!

Hey folks, it's just about that time again! That's right, it's the time when we give up sanity, sleep, and friends all for the sake of our writing!

This will be my fourth attempt at NaNoWriMo and if all goes well I will "win" for the second year in a row. I'll be honest with you folks, I want to win, but I'm not going to be as devoted as I was last year. My schedule is fairly crammed with school and work, more so than last Fall, but I am going to do my best. I'll budget my time and take advantage of my 3 hour schedule breaks between classes/work.

I wanted to try something new this year, so I'm attempting a story unlike any I've ever done. I'm writing a sports book. A sports book. I don't even play sports! I also don't write a lot of realistic fiction, so this might be a challenge for me.

Caroline Reyes is a competitive inline speed skater training for the Nationals. In an attempt to gain an edge and clock in some extra track time (and after a few dares & challenges), Caroline tries out for a roller derby team—and makes it. Despite skating almost her whole life, derby proves challenging to Caroline. She'll have to learn how to skate on four wheels, play as a team, and most importantly: take a hit. But what happens when she has to choose between her dream and her team?

Tonight I finally figured out all the girls on the main team (The Rockin' Rollers), both their real name and their derby names. I love how much a derby name says about a girl, whether they're fun, sexy, or smart, even what their interests are. These girls love poetry, music, science fiction shows, and cooking. Never has naming characters been more fun.

If you want to friend me on the NaNo site, my username is typesetjez!

The Writer's Journey

So, after my post earlier this evening, I realized I never actually posted the narrative to which many of my posts refer. This is something I wrote for my English 321 course last Spring, something I hope fellow writers will relate to and enjoy (especially if you like hyperbole).

The Journey: An Autobiography of a Writer

Not many walk this road, and fewer still reach their destination, the majority turning back before the journey is through. Warning signs line the start of the trail and even the most experienced of travelers, though they remind you to follow your dreams, discourage the trip unless you are absolutely positive it's what you want to do. It takes a certain kind of person to take that chance, to try their hand at writing, and not everyone succeeds. Writing requires you to walk into the forest without a map and little direction, with only your heart, your imagination, and a stubborn will to guide you. It's an adventure, a journey, a quest.

Many people first begin to explore the area when they are young, making up stories to amuse themselves or others. Some quickly grow out of it, convinced that fiction and fairy tales are juvenile, but the rest of us stick with it, some for love of the craft, some for the challenge, and some of us just don't know anything else. When I started writing, none of these applied. Learning the basics caused me stress, less equipped than all the others, and carrying the weight of dyslexia like manacles around my ankles, making the first steps almost impossible to take. I expended extra efforts to keep up with my classmates, but writing remained a challenge for years to come. Still, I kept at it, and at age thirteen I realized that all those years dragging the chained ball behind me and strengthened my legs, strengthened my skills. I discovered that my limits could not hold me back, not when I possessed a gift and a desire for writing.

I ran into that forest, ignoring the caution signs and rushed head-first into a novel without stopping to learn the territory. Treacherous traps awaited at every turn, walls sprang up so suddenly I had no choice but to run into them, and writing proved to be dangerous indeed. I look back on those first drafts now, the footsteps behind me on this trail, and I find typos, grammar mistakes, confusion, plot twists that lead into black holes, and characters without purpose or depth, but somewhere beneath all of that, calling out to me like a siren, is a small nougat of talent, a kernel of hope. That first novel, fated to stay in the dark forest forever, provided me practice, helped me learn the way of the land. I could identify dangers sooner, learn to deal with common mishaps, and live in that world. I decided to make my home there, to become a writer like the heroes I so admired, but I knew it wouldn't be easy.

Once I promised myself this life, I knew I had to take more precautions and turn my unguided wanderings into a quest. I enrolled in classes on writing and gained a set of directions and a map, instructing me where to begin and who to speak to. I found my teachers in the forest and they handed me lists of tasks, telling me I'd receive my reward at the end. Much to my surprise, these were not payments, but talents I would develop and knowledge I would gain. I learned the many different types and styles of sentences and paragraphs, discovered ways to identify and tame them, and the creatures, elusive and unattainable before, became my tools to tackle the terrors of the forest. 

The first task following these on my quest was a narrative, something I thought I knew. The beasts I befriended previously were nothing compared to this dragon, a challenge for me to overcome. Like the Red Crosse Knight, a creation of this place from long ago, I fought this dragon three times before I prevailed, though I did not share in the knight's luck with the well, and sustained many scratches and scars from my battle. My first experience on the quest might have scared another off, but not me. I continued completing the tasks given to me and learned all that I could, so that on my next encounter with a narrative, I was prepared. The second time, I succeeded, learning to use my newly acquired tools and my old talent to my advantage.

Even though I survived these following missions, I still felt clumsy in the forest, taking so many precautions that I discovered very little about myself or my craft. I realized that in order to succeed in this realm, one has to remember the chance they first took when they walked past the warning signs and into the dense thicket. Writing requires risk, so risks I began to take. I explored the darker parts of myself that I once thought I could not or should not approach and put them down on the page. I exercised my ghosts, revealed my deepest fears, and through them grew into a stronger, braver writer. Once the words escaped me, pent up inside my body for so long, I felt relieved, light. The challenges of this mythical world existed not just around me, but within me, from the place in my heart from which words poured. I had learned how to tame the words, but they were nothing without depth and purpose, so I began to create new pieces, infusing a piece of my soul into each one, letting them take on a life of their own.

Those writings became narratives unlike the dragons I had fought, but creatures that reflected the trials I had endured, mirrors to remind me where I had been. More importantly, though they revealed my hidden pain to the world, these creations proved to me that I could survive in this land, that I could use magic like my masters, conjuring and summoning the words that could create, the words I would survive by. I did not start out at a young age as an apprentice; I was not bred for this role. I became the stories I wanted to write: the innocent, unassuming child, struggling in life, who overcame the obstacles and achieved her dream. With a long road still ahead of me, and a million predicaments and beasts waiting to try and stop me, I make my way through this forest on my journey, finally calling myself a writer.