ON WRITING: Short stories -- grab 'em by the throat!

 

Short stories. You don't have much room to work with these; most submissions guidelines ask for nothing more than 5,000 words, but some will cut it to 3,000. So, you need to be concise, and you need to make all your words count. And most importantly, you need to start -- from word one -- at a dead sprint. 

Especially today, with all the distractions and the enhanced ability of people to process information quickly, you need a killer opening for your story, or it's just going to be tossed in the circular file with all the rest of the dreck. If you don't excite and engage your readers (and that initial reader, the editor of whatever publication you're submitting to, is the ultimate reader) from the very beginning, they are going to question why they should tag along for the rest of the narrative and probably just drop off and read or do something else. So, kick your story into high gear from sentence number one.

Which is easier said than done. The key is that you need to find the latest possible moment from which to begin your story. Throw readers right into the action, or present a compelling conundrum up front, do something to make readers take notice. They have put their trust in you, and it would be criminal to abuse that faith by plodding along for eight pages meandering through the luckless and boring history of characters they haven't had a chance to give a shit about, yet. Kick down the door with two semi-automatics and start firing (above their heads, because a dead audience is almost -- almost -- the worst audience you could ask for . . . a bored audience would be far worse, because they're going to tell you all about how they feel). 

Sometimes, that opening may come easy. Most of the time it won't. It's difficult. But, as always, all you have to do is start writing. Once I've gotten into the writing of most of my stories, I am able to go back to the opening and just slash out all the detritus keeping me from the actual opening of the story. It's not uncommon for me to have written a page-and-a-half or more, only to find out that the good opening, the proper opening to the story resides on page four, at which point I highlight and delete those opening three pages and find myself with an additional 750 words to work with. It's magic! 

Seriously though, don't get too caught up on crafting that perfect opening, the writing of the story will open up your mind to possibilities and realities of your narrative that wouldn't be there without the words you've gotten onto the page. That's what revising is all about. You go back and you make the rough words into something that sings (or at least something that doesn't sound as bad as that first pass did). As Harlan Ellison wrote in his essay How Do We Get Into This Mess?: 

"...go to the middle of a situation, go past the backstory material that got you interested in the first place, the stuff you can slide in as slivers of enlightenment throughout the first third of the story, the stuff that formed the original plot epiphany, when you said to yourself, 'hey, wouldn't it be interesting if...' It's what happens after that initial idea the world has come to call 'a story.'"

Now, get writing!

-chris 

ON WRITING: Why the Habit?

 

Day 5 of getting back into the writing habit (looking at the title, seems like I'm taking the "write what you know" saw a bit too seriously; ah, well):

The most obvious benefit from making your writing a habit is the fact that you actually get some writing done. Working every day, the words build up until you have pages of your work, which becomes dozens of pages, and, eventually, hundreds of pages. From that, one ends up with stories and articles and analytical essays, for submission. After that, it's just a matter of aiming well and firing off your shot (in this metaphor, the aiming represents...oh, forget it; moving on).

All through school, I excelled at my studies. Writing was no different -- straight A student, all the way down the line. I was the cream of the crop, baby. 

And I had no effing idea what the hell I was doing.

This is the biggest frustration, I've discovered, since I set on this journey of actually writing fiction for possible publication. My teachers didn't give me the tools that I needed, in order to do this work with the facility necessary to get published. I've had to learn a lot -- often aspects of writing of which I was aware but had no idea how to recognize them, or fix them if I found them in my work -- as I've written stories and articles and blog posts over the course of these 15 - 20 years. These are issues I know were a part of my writing in high school and college, when I was getting excellent grades. I don't want to dwell on this, or take the time to try and investigate why this occurred (that would be one helluva research hole to fall into), but I do want to make it clear:  even though I did extremely well in my written pieces for academic classes, all of that writing was sloppy and unprofessional and in need of some serious revising. 

And that's the other -- and I'd say, far more important -- thing that will come from a writing habit that has you in the chair, tapping the keys on a daily basis. You actually do get better at your writing (people like to make the comparison of writing daily with a physical workout at the gym, and I never bought into that, but it's true, writing daily strengthens the "muscles" necessary for making good work). I found it easier to get the word I was looking for, found it easier to craft metaphors and comparisons, found descriptions to come more easily (all things being relative; this is a weakness in my writing, I think). Maybe it's a better focus, or just years of checking the online thesaurus and working to come up with a pithy description, I don't know, but there are definite benefits. 

Also, and more to the point in my mind, is the fact that, having written, examined, considered, and revised, thousands and thousands of pages of my own fiction, I've come to discover what people meant by keeping your tenses consistent and not writing in a passive voice, among other literary offenses. I know, for a fact, that I committed both of these stated errors, on a regular basis. 

In the first case, I think that's just how I tell a story, aloud, and I don't believe I'm alone in that regard (maybe I'm wrong, but I'd like to think I'm not a complete dimwit). When speaking off the cuff, it's easy to switch from present to past tense and back. And it wouldn't be uncommon in a first draft of a story, especially from an inexperienced writer, as I was. But, at some point along the way, I became aware of what I was doing, how I was flip-flopping around in those drafts, and I worked to fix that. Soon after I first started to notice it, it became a glaring red light, whenever I would read through some bit where I'd fallen back into that hole. It was a matter of living with this writing every day that had allowed that major lesson to seep into my brain. 

It's a similar thing with the second idea -- not writing passively -- that I mention above. Stephen King, in his great memoir ON WRITING, states that passive writing is a sign of a lack of confidence. Check! This is completely spot-on. Being definitive in your writing, especially when you're just starting out or haven't had all that much success, feels wrong somehow. There's a built-in guilt complex because you're completely making up a story and then expecting others to find it worthy enough of publication, of being read, and of being enjoyed and appreciated. That's pretty heavy. So, it's natural to fall into a passive voice; it's not as obtrusive, not as in-your-face, not as demanding of notice. The word 'seem' is a common culprit. Instead of writing that something happened, you will write that it seemed to happen. There's a bit of romanticization in the use of the word seem; it sounds like something from a very proper fairy tale, like the ones we were fed as children, but it's wishy-washy and it doesn't engender confidence from an audience. This was something I wasn't overly conscious of in my writing, and I can't say when it finally clicked (I do know it was many years after I read On Writing), but when it hit, it hit like a hammer. And now, I excise it whenever I find it. Strut like a peacock, I say, because anything less isn't your best.

[and keep that habit going, because good things will come of it.]

-chris

ON WRITING: The Habit's the Thing

Day 3 of working to get back into the habit of writing. Here we go:

I've written about this before, but you can't allow yourself, if you want to write, to fall into the trap of waiting for the muse. That's a mug's game, a romantic notion that sounds lofty and artistic but will only hamper you, if you truly want to be a writer. [And note, being a writer is many things, but at its core, as Harlan Ellison stated and I will paraphrase: if you write, then you're a writer, full stop. Other good advice, from Neil Gaiman:  finish what you begin.]

But it's an easy trap to fall into. I did, when I first had the idea of writing. Of course, I have a tendency to romanticize things, which is probably why my reading and entertainment choices have leaned toward fantasy and the fantastical -- Star Wars being the prime example of this, with comic books a close second. So, when I first considered writing as something I could do, I though it was necessary to just wait for the ideas to come, to allow the muse to fill me up with creativity and direct me on the proper path. I had this one story idea that I believe was a good one. I would work on that, whenever I felt like it, with days and weeks and months passing in between writing spurts, those gaps expanding once I got into the revising phase. And here, as well, I had no idea what I was doing. I thought you needed to revise the fuck [sorry, Mom] out of a story before submitting it. I was into my 13th or 14th revision, at which point I am certain I was just changing words back to ones I'd had in previous drafts, when I finally stopped, put it aside, and tried to figure out what I was doing, and, more importantly, what I was doing wrong. 

Writing is work. Harlan Ellison, my favorite author, famously would write stories in bookstore windows, from ideas offered by friends or attendees, without any foreknowledge of the subject. He wanted to prove that writing was just like plumbing or teaching or any other job. You worked at it, you became better, it was something you were able to do with some facility, But, like any job, you had to work at it, otherwise, what was the point? 

If you want to be a writer, you need to write. That's advice #1 from any author. You have to write. Every day. It's not easy, because there are plenty of distractions calling out for our attention. You have to sit down, in the chair, spark up the computer, and begin smacking those keys. You have to do it regularly, every single day (though I like to take weekends off to be with my family), and, most importantly, you need to have a goal in mind toward which you're working. This goal will keep you honest, and it will allow you to forge ahead and finish those stories you start. Your goal can be a timed one, or a quantity one, whatever works for you -- write for an hour, write until you've gotten 500 words down, write until you have a full scene completed. Anything that gives you something to shoot for and keeps you moving forward. Consider:  if you write 1,000 words a day, after three months you will have written 90,000 words, roughly, which equates to a standard sized novel. Of course, there would still be revising to finish, but once you have a rough draft to work from, the writing is a bit easier. 

The most important thing about making your writing a habit -- and this is probably obvious, but bear with me -- is to make it a regular thing, within your personal schedule. Set a time, the same time, every day, for when you're going to write. Set up a writing space, dedicated to just that, and it can be at the dining room table, in a home office, on your porch, wherever, but utilize the same space very day. Your mind, and your body, will come to recognize this as the writing space, and when you sit down to the keyboard you will know, subconsciously, that it is your writing time. Patterns can be important, especially when beginning a habit. Choose some music, something that will relax you and focus you, that won't be distracting. I prefer to use soundtracks or classical music or jazz, something without lyrics. Currently I'm listening to the John Wick soundtracks. The music energizes me, and it drowns out distractions (I used to do this in high school, when I did my homework); it keeps me focused on the task at hand and allows me to work toward my goal, which has changed over time. Used to be I would try to write for 2 hours a day, then I worked to a 1000 words a day goal, now I've taken on something Joe Hill does, which is to work on a single scene and finish that scene, during my writing time. It's not always doable, but it does give me something to aspire to. 

In the end, the only person who can make you write is you, and whatever means you utilize to get to that place, I applaud you. Just remember, you need to write on a daily (regular) basis, and you need to finish what you begin. Other than that, everything else is fair game. 

-chris

ON WRITING: Keeping your characters in character

Interesting fiction involves interactions with multiple characters, all of whom need to be individualized, to feel true, to be distinct from one another.  Crafting compelling characters (what is going on with all this alliteration?) is a big challenge, maybe the big challenge, of any writing endeavor.  They are the engine that propels your narrative, the choices made and the conflicts that arise are what create the ebb and flow of the drama, ratcheting up the tension with an unexpected decision that cascades through a dramatic turn of events, pulling along the reader to see what happens next.  Characters are the lifeblood of your story. 

But, keeping your characters consistent (more alliteration?!?) can be difficult, especially if you're in the opening pages of your first draft.  At that point, you're still trying to figure out who these people are, trying different things, pushing them into situations, feeling them out, learning about them.  Eventually, they do become more solidified, more real, and, at times, as you're writing you'll find the choices made by your characters come almost naturally, as if they are writing themselves.  It's a pretty cool feeling when you get to that point where the people on the page act as naturally as your neighbor or your family.  But you need to write a bit to get to that point. 

Which brings me to a recent example.  My buddy, Dan (his name's up there, to the right), and I are currently writing the first draft of a YA horror novel.  I'm currently in the middle of chapter 6, and though we have pretty good descriptions for our main characters, they're still evolving and I am still not at a point where the characterizations are lodged in my brain.  I'm still learning they are while trying to remember, fully, who they've been up to now. 

A bit of context:  The setting is a small string of three islands, off the coast of Maine.  The island population barely boasts a couple hundred people, between the three.  Our main characters are two 12-year-olds, one from away, one a local.  The one from away has gone to the library to try and find some information.  He gets there, and the librarian is busy with a family, so his friend takes him to the second floor to look around, while they wait.  This second floor is surround, all the way around without a break, with windows, allowing for a 360 degree view around the building, including a straight shot to the harbor, which is about a half-mile away. 
End contextual infodump

So, our protagonist walks over to the window looking out to the harbor.  It's a pretty amazing view, and I wanted to get this across in the scene, so I had our main character thinking about what a cool view it was from there. 
And all was good, I thought.  I'd described the interior of the library fairly well, and I'd gotten some cool aspects included, with the view of the harbor from the second floor as the big piece. 

Except, our protagonist, Jim, wouldn't react this way.  (something I figured out later, while lying in bed)  He was brought to this island by his father, even though he didn't want to move.  His father has been gone for a couple of weeks, at this point, in order to work on a big fishing vessel so that they can make ends meet.  Add to this all the anxiety and frustration that comes from moving to a new place and starting at a new school, and you can imagine how much pent-up anger Jim has inside.  He's mad.  He doesn't care about some great view from the library.  He wants to go back home, where he grew up.  He wants his father back.  He wants to be anywhere but here. 

So, why would he react in such a positive, almost awestruck fashion?  Answer:  he wouldn't. 

The next day, I rewrote the end of that scene.  I had Carrie, our other main character, remark on how cool a view it was to Jim, and then he turned away, saying, "Yeah, sure," and commented on how it only made him think of how small this island was and how far away home was.  It was a good rewrite that evoked what epitomizes each of these characters.  And it felt good to catch that and keep these two people consistent. 

chris

ON WRITING: Finding Luck (hint--you need to write)

There are a few things you need, in order to find some success writing (or with any creative endeavor):  talent, perseverance, and luck. 

One of the earliest pieces of advice that I took to heart, when I finally began to take my writing seriously, was to seek out any venue for publication of my (your) work, even if said venue might not be within the genre or format to which one aspires, i.e. if you want to write novels you may need to start small--write short stories and try to get them published, or you could even try to write a regular column for an online or print publication.  In 2007, I did the latter and landed a weekly column for a now-defunct online pop culture and comic book website, The Pulse.  I wanted to write fiction, at the time focusing on short stories with a plan to move up to novels eventually, but I also took to heart the advice above, understanding that seeing my words in print would allow me to view them differently, hopefully leading to an improvement in my writing, while also knowing the more I wrote, the better I would get, as well. 

For the next year, I wrote my column, "For Your Consideration," which offered a quick synopsis and analysis of a recent(ish) comic not published by the larger entities--Marvel or DC, as examples--along with a short Q&A with the creator(s) or other involved party, such as an editor or publisher.  Each column ran about 2,000 words, and having a weekly deadline really pushed me to ramp up my writing and get past the need for inspiration to strike, because your editor doesn't care if you were inspired or not, they just need the work at the time you promised it.  I also got to interview a number amazing creators:  Warren Ellis, Garth Ennis, Jason, Gilbert Hernandez, Paul Pope, Steve Rude, and P. Craig Russell, among others [and I still lament the fact that my assumptions led to Matt Fraction, rightfully, chewing me out over email, after I held onto a "Casanova" FYC too long].  I wrote a lot for the Pulse that year, and it was a good time.

I have also sought out a variety of avenues for publication of my short stories, while managing to land a few with various anthologies.  But, as I seem to harp on about, you have to do the work.  Not just the writing, though that should be obvious, but also the work in finding places where your stories can be published, landing at these publications during an open submissions window, then following the guidelines needed to get your story in front of the reader who will ultimately accept or reject your story.

Do.  The.  Work.

Of course, there are plenty who don't do the work and don't appear to want to do the work.  They just drop into comments sections to make themselves known.  [attention:  Pet Peeve (TM) territory ahead, proceed with caution]  On more than one occasion, I've discovered either a call for writers (at CBR, another comic-centric site) or found a call for submissions of short fiction (Needle: a Magazine of Noir, for one) and discovered a bunch of comments, in the thread that followed, that made me bristle.  Maybe that was too strong a reaction, but what can I say, I'm human, and I've been working at this writing thing for quite some time, so I was irritated with the responses and the respondents.

In the first instance, there were a number of people proclaiming how excited they would be to have the opportunity to write for CBR . . . if only they had some writing to share . . . and why did you need examples, anyway?  (I had examples -- over 50 -- which could demonstrate how I would approach the subject matter upon which CBR focused; and as an aside, when I applied to the UMaine magazine for a writing position, I wrote a mock article to include with my application, as an example of what they could expect from me ---- do the work!) 

In the latter instance, I found comments left after submissions had closed, asking for the editor to contact them when the next submission window came open.  What?!?  (Needle was a magazine I greatly wanted to be a part of, and eventually was, so I regularly checked in at the website to see if submissions were open.  I also had a story ready and waiting, for when submissions did become open.  Going further, I had a short story rejected by Needle, but Steve Weddle [the editor] included comments stating there was a lot to like in my story, but that maybe I should consider expanding it to take away any of the coincidental aspects of the narrative.  I not only took his advice, but I also signed up for an online class about writing and submitting short stories through LitReactor, which Weddle moderated, so that I could not only learn more about my craft but also get my name in front of Weddle again.  In the end, that expanded story was published in the last issue of Needle.   Do. The. Damn. Work!) 

This is what people mean when they say you need to "make your own luck."  Sitting around, hoping that luck will strike (or inspiration, as I note in this previous piece), takes all the agency, all the responsibility, out of your hands.  It's nice in that relying on luck, a capricious facet of the universe, absolves you of any of the responsibility for your shortcomings or your rejections.  Hell, you won't even get rejected, because you won't send anything in, because you won't have done the work . . . but at least you can ponder how sorry they must be that they didn't get a story from you, because that would have been the best and could have really helped the publication with the popularity it would have generated.  Not writing means no rejections, and it also means you're allowed to continue to live in your fantasy world, where, if only luck had fallen your way, you would have been the greatest. 

Yeah, I'm harping on this one thing:  Do The Work.  But it's important.  And just stating it once certainly won't -- for most people -- allow it to stick in the front of your brain, festering there until you accept its inherent truth.  So, I harp, like the harpingest harpy that ever harped.

• I wrote a story specifically for Needle.  I submitted it.  It was rejected, but with some insightful notes.  I went back.  Rewrote it.  Re-submitted it.  It was published in Needle #10.  
• I wrote a comic review column for a fledgling site -- Independent Propaganda.  It went under, but I had examples to share with Jen Contino at the Pulse.  She allowed me to write a weekly comic review/interview column for the Pulse, for a year.  
• I saw a call for submissions to a steampunk anthology, centered around Civil War-era New Orleans.  I read up on steampunk.  I wrote a story.  I submitted it.  It was published in New Orleans by Gaslight.  
• There was a call for comic stories based on Mary Shelley's Frankenstein.  I read Frankenstein.  I made notes.  I conceived a story.  Wrote an outline.  Wrote a script.  Took the editor's suggestions and incorporated them into a revised script.  It was accepted and published in Unfashioned Creatures.

I've done the work.  I've had some small bit of success in getting things published [to this point I've had 20 accepted pieces (some of which were not published due to funds dissolving or other aspects out of my control), I've withdrawn 25 submissions for a variety of reasons, and I've been rejected 224 times].  I've gotten lucky.  But that luck would not have materialized had I not already been doing the work, doing the writing, doing the revising, doing the daily grind of sitting at a computer and typing away at the keyboard.  Luck has a lot to do with how successful you might be as a writer, but you'll never find that luck if you don't first work hard.

-chris

ON WRITING: Luring the Muse (hint--make it a habit)

Luck.  Inspiration.  The Muse.

When discussing writing . . . it's all drivel.  An anthropomorphizing of human ideas that romanticizes writing to an almost divine plane, while also diminishing it by ignoring the amount of work that goes into the act of writing.  You can wait until inspiration strikes.  Wait for the muse to land on your shoulder.  Hope for a lucky break.  But if you're focusing on this, you're probably not writing, and that's the key to it all.

The biggest problem with this romanticization is the fact that it takes a writer's success out of their hands, relegating it to some outside force.  Now, this may be well and good if the writer in question wants to deflect the harsh feeling of rejection away from themselves--it can be a coping mechanism, sure.  But it also means they needn't take any responsibility for their shortcomings (and all of us who write have those; it's just a matter of being self-reflective enough to recognize them).  You have to be proactive if you want to write and be successful.  You need to put in the work.  You need to read.  You need to analyze.  You need to write.  And you need to submit.  Do the damn work, if you want to be a writer.

And even then, there's no guarantee you will find success.

If you want The Muse (TM) to visit, to inspire you, to make the words flow from your fingers like golden skeins of thread being woven by the ancient Gods, there is something you can do.  Make your writing a habit.



It's not an easy thing to sit down with a blank page and start to write.  It takes a bit of ego, a bit of talent, a bit of delusion.  Most importantly, though, it takes persistence.  So, make writing a habit, and make it as regular a thing as you can.  When you sit to write (especially if you're starting out), do it at the same time of day, in the same spot, with (as near as possible) the same circumstances, every single day.  Writing is like working out, except it's using different muscles--if we want to think of the brain as a muscle, especially.  And, like working out or practicing with your teammates, you can develop a muscle memory with writing, as well.  Writing at the same time of day in the same place allows it to become familiar, taking away some of the anxiety that can cause writer's block.  Eventually, it just becomes part of your routine.  It will feel natural to sit down and write, something as familiar as brushing your teeth when you wake in the morning or slipping on your silk pajamas before watching "This Is Us" (because we all have silk PJs, right?).

Once you're comfortably in the habit, you'll be less anxious about it, just a natural part of your day.  And, you'll find that the words come to you more easily, that inspiration arrives more often and without as much struggle, that your fingers just seem to get away from you, racing to keep up with your imagination.  Keep in mind, also, that it behooves you to set a daily goal for your writing, so that you're always moving forward.  This can be whatever works best for you--a timed goal like an hour of writing, or a quantifiable word count: 500, 1000, 3000.  We're all different, so we have to find what's most comfortable for us.  But having that daily goal allows you to achieve one of the most important rules of writing I can think of, as stated by Neil Gaiman, "finish what you're writing."

And if you finish what you write, then you can begin to make your own luck, which, as with The Muse (TM), comes with making your writing a habit.  

ON WRITING: working up to "That Scene" (and does it fit?)

My writing hero - Harlan Ellison, at his typewriter

There are myriad catalysts for writing a story -- one being a scene that you just have to write and crafting a narrative, sometimes a novel-length narrative, around that, in order to have the opportunity to write it.  This was one of the prime motivators, for me, for the novel I am currently revising.  There were two scenes, actually, that spurred me to write 140,000 words on a first draft, and without those there would have been no reason for me to write that story.  There would have been no story.

When a scene or two is your inspiration, it most likely will be the aspect of the story you think about most.  That's natural.  You may go so far as to write that scene out of order, just because it is so prominent in that part of your brain working on the story.   But even if you do tackle your story from the beginning, and save "that scene" as a reward for getting through the tough work of setting it all up, you're still going to direct a lot of your brain toward it, working it and reworking it over and over, as you write the previous sections, until it's almost a foregone conclusion of how the scene will play out, once you reach that point in the narrative where it belongs.  This isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it can be problematic. 

The thing is, when you write a first draft, of anything, it, by default, has to be garbage.  A writer is discovering the story as they write it, discovering the characters, the setting, the actions (and reactions) taken, the bends in the road navigated deftly (or horribly).  It's a first draft, and it should be ugly.  Revising, as Greg Rucka has stated (and, no doubt, many other authors), is where the real heavy lifting happens.  And roughly 105,000 words into my first draft (which has translated to around 77,000 words on the 2nd draft), I've hit the heavy lifting part, having foolishly thought it all had been heavy lifting.  Ha!  Joke's on me. 

The story I'm currently revising revolves around two couples -- their history (three of them are old friends), their jealousies, their aspirations, and their betrayals, and the secrets each is keeping from the other, all leading to a tragic end, natch.  There's been a murder.  A police detective we followed in a tangential storyline earlier, but who also dealt with one of the couples involved in all this, has the murder drop in her lap.  She and her partner discover two women (the wives) dead.  They go to speak with the husbands, and then take them down to the station to question them -- not only to get information on the victims, but to see if they might be suspects.  This interrogation scene was one of the main impetuses for this story.  I thought about it a lot, and in reading the first draft of the whole thing, I can see it was obviously modeled on the interrogation scene from L.A. Confidential.  And the way I wrote it was all wrong. 

Initially, I had the detectives keep the fact that the wives had been murdered from the men, wanting them to come to the police station on their own, so the detectives could use the men's ignorance (or possibly their knowledge, if either or both were the murderer) against them.  But, as I got to this point in my revising, I realized it made no sense at all, to me, to have things happen this way.  Not only did it feel unrealistic, it also felt out of character.  That meant going back and tweaking the lead-up to the detectives confronting the men, and having Detective Ames tell them their wives have been killed, and it also means I need to completely rework the interrogation scene.  These men will be distraught, they won't be ignorant of what has happened, the dynamic will be a 180 degree shift.  That's exciting, because I know this will be far better than the original scene, but it is also daunting because it means I am back to square one with the pivotal scene, and it's been nice having a solid framework to play off of, as I write this second draft.  Not that I'm complaining, it's just a bit more of that heavy lifting. 

And, though I'm loathe to utilize this cliche (it's true):  when you're writing, you have to be willing to kill your darlings. 

ON WRITING, Alex de Campi with some writing advice

Alex de Campi is a music video director and comic writer whose work includes the mini-series SMOKE, with art by Igor Kordey, and the Image series NO MERCY, with art by Carla Speed McNeil, both of which are great reads.  She regularly offers fantastic writing advice on twitter.  You can follow her @alexdecampi.


Last week, she responded to a tweet from screenwriter/novelist C. Robert Cargill, seen below:

Spurred by this, she offered this great bit of advice:

I am always on the lookout for great advice to help me with my writing.  De Campi has a wealth of knowledge that she freely offers, like that above.  If you're in the same boat as me, I would highly recommend jumping on twitter and following her.  And hopefully, the above was also helpful.  Or, at least interesting.

-chris

BLOODLINE -- How Bingeing Leaches a Narrative of Tension

Bloodline Season 2:

The slow fuse lit in the first season of the Netflix series Bloodline, which finally exploded in that final episode, has branched off to another fuse and continues to burn, threatening to destroy the Rayburn family.  With the second season, it inches closer to entrapping John in the skein of lies that surrounds him, as the ghost of their brother, Danny, hangs over all their heads.  I have thoroughly enjoyed this season.  The writing has been top-notch, the acting, especially from Chandler and Mendelsohn and Spacek, stellar, and the setting is still spectacular, while also moody at just the right moments.  But that doesn't mean there aren't things that leave something to be desired.  In one aspect, the series has come to feel formulaic--though not lazily formulaic.

With John's decision to run for sheriff, it has thrust him and his family even more into the spotlight, and his opponent, incumbent sheriff Aguirre, wants to dig more deeply into the events surrounding Danny's death.  This means going back to re-question John and his family.  So now, their initial lies are compounded, because of some experiences in the interim, and Meg and Kevin, especially, find it necessary to add to the list of their lies.  Lies that begin to unravel as Marco, one of John's closest friends in the sheriff's department and his sister's former fiancé, becomes suspicious, thanks to his close relationship with the family.

All of this, from a writing standpoint, is great.  All the tension and drama, subterfuge and deception stems from character and is smartly done.  The formulaic aspect comes when the Rayburns, and others, are confronted with their lies.  Or, more specifically, when they are confronted with questions--from the police, from Sally Rayburn (their mother, played by Sissy Spacek), from Diana, John's wife--who suspect something is wrong and call them on it.  At each point, it seems as if there's nothing for the confronted party to do but admit to the deceit, and many times John or his siblings, Kevin and Meg, will preface a response with something to the effect of:  "I've been holding this in for a long time," or "I can't live like this anymore."  It feels very much like they will confess.  But in the end, they confess to something different.  As examples:  John tells his mother that he knew of Danny's son well before they brought it to her attention; Kevin tells Marco, the sheriff's deputy, that he didn't come clean about the burnt-out boat because he recognized it as one his cocaine dealer had docked at his marina.  Every time, they squeak out from beneath the specter of the big lie.

It's smart, and it speaks to how fully realized these characters have become, and how earlier scenes that had one intent are able to be repurposed for these later scenes.  But, you quickly come to realize that when confronted with suspicion by someone in a position of authority--even Kevin, the drug-addled alcoholic who has been frantic about Danny's death and always seemed the one who would crack under the pressure--the Rayburns will play as if they are going to confess and then swerve to offer something just as juicy and legitimately plausible, in order to deflect that suspicion.  It happens multiple times in the show, and it's meant to heighten the tension within the drama.

Which, again, isn't to say that it isn't done well.  All the swerves are quite plausible, coming from character and from their backstories, and they never feel forced (though the ease with which these characters sometimes offer up "second options" can sometimes feel inauthentic, but not enough to pull you out of the show).  It's just, once you know the pattern it does sap a bit of the dramatic tension from events.  Maybe that's due to the way we watch these shows now, one episode after another after another, with no time in between to mull over what happened and contemplate the consequences.  It is possible that the old pattern, from network days, of watching an episode a week, with regular breaks during production resulting in weeks without a new episode, might have hidden this pattern, at least a little while longer than an episode or two.

Ultimately, though, there's plenty to learn, here, as far as writing engaging narratives.  The big takeaway for me, from watching season 2 of Bloodline, is to try and have multiple narrative threads for characters, whether those threads are just family backstory or a drug problem that remains in the background or something else, because these are the things the writers of the show utilized for these swerves.  I suppose it's the same as stating one should create complex characters with full lives for your fiction, because, when all is said and done, that is what this is.  The writers seeded the show with these glimpses into the personal lives of the characters, including the messed up family dynamic of the Rayburns, and the drug issues for Kevin, and once those were established, they were able to pull on these threads to not only push the narrative forward but ratchet up the tension in the process.  It's certainly made for an entertaining series, thus far.  And maybe, if I weren't so addicted that I need to watch the next episode now, I wouldn't have gleaned the pattern so quickly.

-chris

ON WRITING, making characters complex, one example

A couple weeks back, in my week in review, I wrote about the final episodes of the final season of THE AMERICANS, and how the writing staff on that show has consistently put forth some amazing television, with compelling characters.  One of the most impressive aspects of the show has been that characterization.  Each character is distinct, and their personalities run up against one another in ways -- especially when discussing the marriage of Philip and Elizabeth -- that heighten the drama.  Episode 8 of this final season did this magnificently, in the case of Elizabeth's character. 

SPOILERS AHEAD:  


In this final season, a few years have passed, Philip has retired from the spy game but Elizabeth is still deeply involved and their daughter, Paige, is also working for the Center, in a limited capacity, under her mother's watch.  It is 1987, Gorbachev is the leader of the Soviet Union, and negotiations are nearing a close on agreements to curb the nuclear weapons race, with an eye to ending the Cold War.  There is a large group, back in Russia, led by a cadre of military generals and working in conjunction with the Center, who believe Gorbachev is just throwing away their security, damning the Soviet Union to second-class citizenship, and they want to stop their leader, at all costs.  Meanwhile, a faction from the Center, including our old buddy Oleg, want these talks to go through, want peace with America, want to begin working to lift up their country, once more, out of the poverty that has spread throughout the country, due to the corruption of many of those in power. 

In America, Elizabeth is charged by her handler to go to Mexico and speak with someone who has some very important intelligence.  It is one of these former generals (or at least someone high up in this resistance movement against Gorbachev).  He tells Elizabeth a story, about how Gorbachev is betraying his country and how the negotiators that have come to America are selling out the Soviet people.  They need to do something to stop these talks.  And so, she begins working to find out all she can regarding the negotiations. 

Meanwhile, Oleg has returned to America, without any diplomatic immunity.  He cannot be connected with the Center, in any way.  Oleg contacts Philip, explains to him the danger Gorbachev faces, as well as the danger their homeland faces if these talks are derailed.  Oleg needs Philip to spy on Elizabeth, to find out what she knows, what she is being asked to do, and to try and come up with a way to stop these generals and their fear of peace.  And so, Philip is drawn back in, not only lying to his best friend across the street -- FBI Agent Beeman -- but lying to his wife, while he tries to get out of her any information he can. 

Eventually, Philip has to tell his wife.  Though their marriage was arranged, to provide a cover story, it has become something very real, for both of them.  Strained by their work, and the ugly things necessary for success in that vein, they still love one another and look to each other for support and comfort. 

In episode 8, Philip finally confesses to Elizabeth what he's been doing, that he's been watching her and trying to elicit information from her, and why he's been doing it.  He wants peace with America.  Those who contacted him want peace with America.  What the generals are doing and what the Center is doing goes against the best interests of their people.  Philip asks Elizabeth to, for once, think independently, not to take her orders at face value or without question.  Those in the Center may decide what needs to be done, but he and she and all the other spies are the ones who actually do the work, do the ugly things that need doing.  Ultimately, he says, they (she and he) are responsible for their actions.  Elizabeth is furious.  But she now has something else to consider with regard to her orders from the Center. 

Over the course of the rest of the episode, Elizabeth comes to realize that what she is being asked, specifically to kill one of the Soviet negotiators who has been deemed a traitor, is wrong.  She listens to the recording of the most recent secret meeting, which she got, and realizes this negotiator is merely a family man trying to do what is right for his country.  He is not giving away military secrets, as the Center told Elizabeth, he is doing his job, negotiating with the Americans to try and limit each country's nuclear arsenal, to hopefully provide a better future for his children and everyone's children.  Elizabeth realizes that Philip was right. 

In the end of the episode, Elizabeth comes home to Philip and tells him that she needs to get a message to the person he's in contact with.  A message needs to get home about the lengths those aligned against Gorbachev are willing to go to stop these nuclear arms talks.  He, Philip, was right about them. 

BUT, he was wrong in keeping it secret and spying on her.  Philip betrayed Elizabeth, betrayed his wife, and even if it was for the right reasons, it is still unconscionable and unforgivable, in Elizabeth's eyes.  She will not forgive him any time soon, and she will not allow him to forget about this betrayal for even longer.  This part of the episode was the most amazing bit of writing in the whole thing:  it felt natural and it felt right, but it also swerved from what might typically occur in most television writing and most writing in general. 
The expectation, when someone is revealed as having been "right," is that the other person who originally argued with them immediately comes around to their way of thinking, upon this realization.  Certainly, Elizabeth did come around to understand the point Philip made, but in being true to her character, she retained the right to criticize him for the betrayal.  There is no chance for reconciliation at this point, even though he's right.  It's brilliant. 

Probably the reason this resonated so strongly with me is that I feel it is something I truly need to work hard at in my own writing.  I grew up on a steady diet of fables and fairy tales, science fiction and fantasy, and, for the most part, those stories I read and absorbed during my formative years had happy endings.  I became (I am) a person who wants, terribly, for things to just work out.  I worry that I may too easily fall into the trap, with my writing, of tying things up too neatly, too quickly.  I need to keep in mind that my characters should be breathing, thinking, living humans, who have flaws and emotions and do not always act rationally.  Just because one person's perspective is proven correct, throwing another's into the shadow of being wrong, does not mean that second person will just throw their hands up and accept it all.  People don't like to be wrong.  And people really don't like to be betrayed.  Asking them to just get over it isn't realistic.  And I have to keep that in mind when writing. 

-chris

On Writing: God (or the Devil) is in the Details

Depending on who you ask, God or the Devil is in the details.  Doesn't matter to me, as long as I've got the details I need in my stories.

My goal is to write every day.  Some days (most days, really) it's tough, like pulling teeth . . . if I knew what pulling teeth was like.  Regardless, there are many days when I write out a sentence, then sit and stare at it, only to drop my index finger onto the delete/backspace key and wash it all away.  Then I start over, usually rewriting what I just wrote, but hopefully in a slightly different fashion.  At some point, I finally stop arguing with myself over that first sentence and move onto the second.  Go through the same thing, maybe open a new tab online and check something meaningless to distract me, then force myself back to the story at hand, to get the following sentences out, onto the page.  It can be a chore, and for the most part when it is a chore it's something in my subconscious trying to tell me that I don't have the first clue what I need or want to write today.  I rarely listen to that subconscious ghoul and just plow on through until I reach an end point that suffices (not that it's a well-written end point, it's just a point where I feel like something got accomplished, even if it was merely the writing of 500 words of worm-ridden filth).

In these cases, often, the struggle may come from the fact that I don't have the necessary details for the section I'm working on.  This could mean I don't completely understand my characters, so I struggle with how they should react or what they might say.  Or it could be something like what I just encountered, where I needed to include a short news story in my narrative that reported on an ambush of American soldiers during the Vietnam conflict.  Generally, I'm more well-versed in the Vietnam conflict than most, but I can't just pluck details and scenarios from memory.  So, writing that short bit was challenging, and I found myself working to distract myself more often than not.  Since it was a first draft, I worked through it, to have something down as a placeholder, with the broad strokes necessary for the emotional impact the story provides my protagonist, and I knew that, later, I could find the necessary details from an online search or some of the materials I have at home.  It wasn't as if I needed to have the details, at that point, to get the bit written, but in lacking those details I found myself and my ability to write it fluently and efficiently hampered.

Even when writing fiction, research is essential.  Two of my favorite stories have come from doing serious research, before starting to write.  The first was a comic story, "Big Man," which I had published in Unfashioned Creatures: A Frankenstein Anthology, by Red Stylo Media, with art from Gary Fitzgerald.  The call for submissions asked for new, original stories inspired by Mary Shelley's Frankenstein.  At the time, I'd never read Shelley's classic.  It was a perfect excuse to rectify that omission, and I'm so glad I finally did.  I read the novel over a weekend and began brainstorming ideas.  In the end, I was able to take the idea of the Monster, combine it with my experience living on a fishing island, twenty miles off the coast of Maine, and layer it with something my wife shared about a plot point in J.K. Rowling's The Casual Vacancy.  From all of that, I wrote an 8-page script that I am incredibly happy with, and which, I feel, hues closely to the themes put forth by Shelley.

The second time a dose of heavy research helped me with a story came during an open call for steampunk tales set in Civil War-era New Orleans, for the anthology New Orleans by Gaslight.  I, basically, knew nothing about steampunk, other than the obvious trappings one comes across online--the advanced science utilizing the technologies of the mid-19th Century time period.  I was unaware of the overall approach to steampunk, that of being more upbeat and more inclusive than the actual era was, of lifting up all peoples through the fictions and the cosplay of this subgenre.
I also knew very little about voudou, but I wanted to include it in my story and also wanted to treat it with respect, rather than utilize hoary cliches from the times I'd seen it on television.  Warren Ellis, around that time, had shared, through his newsletter, a youtube video purporting to show a voudou ritual.  And I also managed to find a good book in the stacks here, at the University of Maine's Fogler Library, where I work--  American Voudou: Journey into a Hidden World by Rod Davis.  This was an invaluable resource, which took an open-minded view to voudou rituals and shared details about them that helped inform my story, "You Gotta Give Good."  All of this swirled together, and I came out with a 3400-word story that got a specific shout-out from a reader's review for the anthology, on Amazon.
Without doing the research, there's no way I could have had my story accepted.

Generally speaking, I add details to characters, early in the story, to just try and make them interesting.  Sometimes these details are ones that were thought out beforehand, but more often than not it's just me writing off-the-cuff.  I'm still trying to find these characters and discover who they are, at the opening stages of the writing, so many of the bits I add are just spontaneous thoughts that I got down on paper. 

As I move forward, in the story, these details become more permanent, more a part of who these people are (if they aren't jettisoned, which can happen too).  They feed into the personalities, which in turn, hopefully, feed into the narrative.  Typically, I have an idea of where I'm heading with my story, but it's rather vague with a lot of empty space between here (the opening) and there (the ending).  This affords me not only the opportunity to improvise, but it also keeps me writing.  Even if I'm unsure what exactly happens next, I can push ahead and possibly discover something new and unexpected in the writing. 

The biggest boon that comes from these details often materializes in the end of the story.  For me, at least.  Like I state above, I often have a vague idea of where I'm going.  It helps, and I prefer, to have a point to which you're aiming, when writing, otherwise it can quickly become an unfocused mess.  But, though I may know how I want it to end, I usually don't know the exact way the end will reveal itself.  Having a number of details attached to the characters, in the beginning, has helped me with these endings.  I write slowly (maybe more detailed outlines might be optimal, if I wanted to increase my writing speed), like Indiana Jones methodically working his way through the jungle, wary of enemies and predators, while being careful not to miss some sign that would lead to his next archaeological conquest.  I only think about the next scene, pondering what should happen and how to approach it, and only consider the following one once I've written the scene in front of me.  This can sometimes be frustrating, but something the longer time affords me is the chance to really get to know my characters, and for the details slapped on them, at the outset, to become ingrained within them.  And, quite often, I find the key to writing that final bit in some detail from the opening. 

It happened in my latest short story -- the aged father, now in a nursing home, is a Vietnam veteran.  the timing for this seemed right, and that was my basic thought.  But, in the end, a story about his time in Vietnam, which his middle-aged son found and read in a scrapbook, spurred the son toward the climax I had envisioned from the start.  Without that key news story, which wouldn't have been possible without the detail of the father serving in Vietnam, I would not have found the emotional hook I needed to get the son to move on, with his life.  It was a happy coincidence, but one that came about because I wanted to make the introduction of a character interesting and added details to achieve that. 

-chris

WHAT IT IS, week ending 2/16/19

Back again!  Two weeks in a row with my weekly roundup of . . . stuff.  Primarily, I'm looking at my writing, how I'm doing, what I'm doing, and what I'm "ingesting" as inspiration.  Whether I can easily connect the dots between the writing and the inspiring, that's another story, but it all goes into the soup bubbling at the back of my brain and will eventually come splurting out onto the page, in one form or another (to use a hackneyed turn of phrase).  Anyway, let's get to it.


TV/FILM:
Certainly, reading is one of the most important things to do, if you want to improve as a writer--read what's good to help you level-up (it's homage when done artfully, stealing when not so deftly realized).  But there's story all around us now, and with the current "golden age" of television, one could do worse than looking toward Hollywood for ideas and lessons.  So:

The year is 2258

Babylon 5 --
B5 is one of my all-time favorite television shows, and my favorite science fiction show, period.  (The X-Files isn't straight sci-fi, otherwise, there'd be a tie for fave sf tv)  I've slowly--very slowly--been rewatching the first season of J. Michael Straczynski's epic series and watched the penultimate episode of that initial season, "The Quality of Mercy," this week.  One of the things that so impresses me about B5 is how even one-off episodes like this one--revolving around the sentencing of a convicted murderer and a former doctor using an alien device, which she doesn't fully understand, to heal the impoverished denizens in Down Below--have threads that will tie into the larger mythology, a few seasons hence.  It's really impressive and the ability to insert plot threads into my stories in a manner that makes them interesting on their own without giving away possible future plot points is something I aspire to.

Trouble in paradise?

The Americans SPOILER ALERT--
Four episodes into this final season and things are just getting more complex and more dangerous for our protagonists.  As talks for limiting nuclear weapons between the American and Soviet governments forge ahead, Elizabeth is working to help those in Russia opposing Gorbachev and this apparent capitulation to the Americans, while Philip is trying to find out specifics about what she is working on, in order to help those loyal to Gorbachev, who believe in and seek peace with the United States.  Philip's and Elizabeth's differences of opinion, about America, about their life, about Russia, have never been so starkly framed.  With the end fast approaching, I wonder if the creators will have the bravery to permanently fracture their relationship and leave us, the audience, wondering if they could have salvaged it.

Genius

Community --
Before heading up to bed, my wife and I sit down with our eleven-year-old son to watch something on TV (not "real" TV, but Hulu or Netflix or a DVD).  Our current "crush" is COMMUNITY.  We're halfway through the third season, and sitting on the couch laughing at Abed and Troy, Shirley and Annie, Jeff and Britta and Pierce is a great palette cleanser before going up to read and sleep.  We just watched the episodes surrounding the pillow fort/blanket fort battle, with the schism between Abed and Troy (didn't like that, at all) and the culmination with the homage to Ken Burns (brilliant!).  There's so much good writing going on in this show--the characterizations, the infusion of familiar television tropes in new and oddball ways, the jokes, and the social commentary, it's a blast!  It's also daunting.  But, at the very least, I can take away the desire to work harder with my own writing, and that's not a small thing.


BOOKS/COMICS:

The Hundred Secret Senses --
I'd never read anything by Amy Tan before, but was aware of her.  This book was a great introduction, for me, to her writing.  Great story!  You can read my full thoughts here.

Mignola, pre-Hellboy...gorgeous

Cosmic Odyssey --
I was surprised how much I enjoyed this.  Written by Jim Starlin (creator of Thanos), drawn by Mike Mignola (creator of Hellboy), this series brought together Superman, Batman, Starfire, Martian Manhunter, the Demon, Orion, Lightray, and Forager of the New Gods, as well as Highfather and Darkseid (with Dr. Fate coming in to save the day, at the end) to combat the Anti-Life Equation, which is more an entity in this imagining of Kirby's Fourth World mythos.  The books moved along at a brisk pace, the art was beautiful (I love Mignola), and Darkseid was particularly manipulative.  A fun romp with the DC superstars.

The Tripods are coming.

The White Mountains --
I was introduced to John Christopher's "Tripods Trilogy" through a comic adaptation in Boys' Life magazine.  I then found the actual novels that was based upon, and, as a kid, I loved these books.  Now, I'm reading the trilogy to my youngest boy (having just completed the Harry Potter series, over the course of a couple of years).  I have to say . . . they don't really hold up for me.  Which isn't surprising, as they were written for children.  There's some good world-building by Christopher and interesting scenarios, but his biggest pitfall is that, when he puts his characters into harm's way, he quickly allows them to extricate themselves, within a page or two of the obstacle revealing itself.  It's been frustrating to watch them so easily and quickly get out of trouble, at every turn.  There's no opportunity to inject the narrative with any tension or drama.
Which is a good lesson to take away from this:  don't allow my characters to quickly get out of the traps and troubles into which they fall, it will leach the work of any drama I might have infused it with.

Things I Discarded Before Finishing
As I've slipped through my forties (apologies, I wanted a better verb than slipped, but sometimes you're on deadline, even if it's a self-imposed deadline), I have found my patience for books or movies or television shows that aren't entertaining or engaging me in a meaningful way lacking.  I realize, more consciously than ever before, that I have a limited amount of time, and I want to make sure I'm using it to my fullest.  So, I now set aside books and comics and shows in the middle of reading or watching them, to move onto something that will engage me.  Admittedly, I'll be the first to tell fans of science fiction they need to push through that first season of Babylon 5 to get to the really good stuff, and if they just give it a chance it will all be worth it, which is obviously a bit hypocritical given the earlier points made in this paragraph.  But I stand by that.  Guess I should be happy I came across B5 when I did.  Otherwise, I might have missed out.
Still, doesn't change anything, for me.  So:

The Compleat Moonshadow --
This is an essential read for many serious comic book fans.  I've wanted to read it for quite a while now.  And though I am a fan of J.M. DeMatteis, the writer, and the painted art from Jon J. Muth is amazingly beautiful, I could not get through the second issue of this thirteen issue epic.  Sure, maybe there's some great stuff later on, but I did not care for the characters at all, and the idea of reading that next chapter felt like work for me.  So, I'll send this back to the library, and maybe, someday, I'll return to it.  But not for a while.

Beautiful art

Captain America: the Winter Soldier --
Apologies to Dan . . .
I am a fan of Ed Brubaker.  Currently, he is creating my favorite comics, through Image.  I've long planned to read his monumental run on Captain America because it's what put him on the map.  So, I requested the first few collections through the library.  [I should note I've read the "Winter Soldier" storyline before, but never moved past it]  I read the first three chapters, and then I tapped out.  Again, I just wasn't interested in the characters.  I'm more a DC guy (Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman) than a Marvel fan (Cap, Spider-Man, She-Hulk).  So, sending that one back too.

What did I take from these experiences?  I'm not sure.  But, again, it makes me want to be better with my writing, to try and be entertaining while creating relatable and interesting characters, and to make sure not to be boring.  Obviously, I think the most important thing to assure this is possibly out of my hands--it is essential that one's creative work get in front of the "right audience."  People with different backgrounds or different perspectives on writing, than my own, may not have as positive a reaction to what I'm writing.  But, if I make it as good as I possibly can--something that is within my power--then I will, at least, have done all that I can to make the right first impression.

WRITING:
So, the writing continues.  I've now logged 15 consecutive days of writing (not a record, but not a bad streak, considering I've been letting weekends go, recently).  One of the more important bits of writing advice I've come across is not to wait for the muse to hit before sitting down at the keyboard.  There's no such thing--or, at least, very rarely--as divine intervention for your creativity.  Like luck, one has to be prepared to accept the muse, rather than sit around waiting for it to happen on its own. 

The more you write, the easier it becomes (though, of course, there are many, many days when it will feel like a slog).  Creating habits is a good way to go about improving your writing output--the same space, at around the same time, with the same background elements, which, for me, means music that I can listen to but won't distract me.  Your body, and your brain, will begin to associate this setting with the act of writing; it will allow you to more quickly enter that state of mind necessary to get the words onto the paper (or the screen).  And, as you become used to writing within this set of physical parameters, the words will seem to unlock more readily, metaphors will reveal themselves, and you will find yourself not having to force yourself to get those sentences down.  It can feel magical. 

Keep typing away.

Of course, this all sounds romanticized (hey, I fancy myself a writer, might as well try to flower that shit up, yo), but it's true.  Which does not mean that there won't be days, many days, when you can't even remember simple words and you might as well give up this pipe dream.  Writing is hard, writing well is a huge challenge, but if you love it, the work and the frustration can well be worth it.  I know I always feel better on a day I've written, and there's nothing like punching that final punctuation key upon completion of a new story.  It really is something amazing.  So, keep pushing onward and upward. 

That said, I have slowly been working on the end of the current short story, which will come in a bit longer than a typical short story but not quite long enough to fall into the novella category, I think.  We'll see.  The latest bit I wrote on it was a horrendous chore, and I know why.  It was a news story that my protagonist discovers in a scrapbook, which will have a huge impact on him.  It's about a massacre of American troops ambushed by Viet Cong regulars in the Vietnam war.  I knew what I needed to happen in this news story, but I was lacking the specific details necessary for it to feel authentic.  This is information I have at hand, here at home, and can readily find with a few hours of rummaging and reading, but the fact that I didn't have these details fresh in my mind kept me from easily getting the words down.  I was hesitant because I knew that what I was writing was not at a level I was comfortable with, and not having details to work from also made it a bit challenging to properly lay out the story, in my head.  I need to do some research to get it right.  But, this is the first draft.  I know things will be changed when I revise it.  So, I pushed through, got it down, and now I can move on to the final bits.  This should wrap up in the coming week, at which point I can finally get to the second novel.  That should be easier(?) since I already have a pretty solid skeleton to work from.  We'll see.  Hopefully, I'll have an update next week. 


-chris