Category Archives: status

So how’s that non-working thing going, Dee?

In summary: not great, but it’s not (quite) my fault.

I had great intentions. I had an amazing week planner with two morning and two afternoon work sessions and plenty of breaks (plottable with post-it notes for the week ahead so I could customise my week depending on circumstances). Despite my husband being bed-ridden post ankle-reconstruction, I managed about half a week of solid, hitting-the-goals work. (It was great: I was getting a scene revised per session, which basically meant I only needed two sessions scheduled a day to hit par and any more was gravy.) I had the week of dinners all planned out in advance, and as a bonus, Mr Dee was finally getting to watch all that television I hadn’t been interested in because ugh middle-aged white guys (like Breaking Bad).

And then, turns out I got pregnant.

Continue reading So how’s that non-working thing going, Dee?

NaNoWroteMo. Yo.

That dragon looks mighty afeared!

So, NaNoWriMo is done. And – surprising myself tremendously – I won, and won doubly over. I had planned to write a complete rubbish-summary-half-assed draft of a novel – and not only did I hit the 50k words (on about day 20, good lord!) I completed the draft (at a slightly meatier 68k words) with a couple of days to spare.

I’m basically flabberghasted. I didn’t even know I had this in me.

Looking at it as I was going, and in the immediate aftermath, my conclusion is that my chief weapons were fear and surprise over-the-top planning, and permission to suck.
Continue reading NaNoWroteMo. Yo.

The warm glow of completion (onwards and upwards)

Finishing a first draft means:

  • Being able to help more around the house. (“Hey, I could cook one or two nights this week.”)
  • Catching up on media. (“Hey, we should watch the latest season of Game of Thrones.”)
  • Reading over lunch instead of writing.
  • Socialising again. (“Brunch, or are you still writing all the time?”)
  • Epic Neverwinter sessions. (Except I still haven’t managed to score a party who can defeat Valindra, or had a queue pop for Castle Never.)
  • Playing enough to get somewhere in Sunless Sea! (Killed by the largest crab you ever saw. Again.)
  • Getting to tick off huge to-do items in HabitRPG and get metric fucktons of experience (w00t!)
  • Starting to write the next thing…

And the next thing is NaNoWriMo. (Doing it too? Here I am!)

I’m looking forward to this. One of the biggest kicks I got out of Camp NaNo – which started me off on the four-month productivity bender that finished the draft for me – is: permission to not be perfect. Which is a big thing, and such an enabler (I’ll talk more about this soon) but it does mean that I get to the end of a draft and know that so much of it now needs major rewriting. I’m super happy with the shape of the ending, now I just have to realign the rest of the book to meet that ending. Which is all great, but the fly in the ointment is how long it took me to get the first half. It’s aggravating to have spent so long on material that’s going to need major revision.

It seems to me that the best way around this is to stop taking so long with the first draft. If I can’t really know what shape the story should be until I know how it ends in detail (which seems to be how I roll; it’s been the case for both novels I’ve worked on) then either I need to write ending-first (which has worked for short material, but I don’t think I could do for longer pieces: the ending would lack the necessary complexity) OR I write the first draft even rougher and quicker.

I’m trying the latter for NaNo. I’m not aiming for the first 50k of a novel in relatively coherent prose. I am aiming for a 50k epic-rough quasi-summary draft of the entire novel. I’m anticipating chapters that are a patchy collage of prose and summary and notes to self. I’m anticipating covering a chapter a day in this method. And most of all, I’m anticipating needing to do a fuckton of work once I come back to write it properly – but since I know there’s a fuckton of work needing to be done on the first-draft that took me two years to write, that’s no big deal.

P.S. To add another spanner to my bouquet, I received some really thoughtful feedback on Boralos from a marvellous agent – confirming for me how much I’d love to work with her in the future. As always, new input makes my brain spin on old projects (it’s true: the further you get from a project in time, the more leverage you have to tear it apart and put it back together) but obviously any serious consideration of what to rework next will have to wait until after November.

You don’t know a person until you’ve written 90k words in their shoes

Rearranging my current work in progress in Scrivener (how you know things are getting serious: when there are enough words to require organisation) I came across my initial character sketches for my core characters.

It’s quite delightful to me how much some of them have changed in the writing. Oh, not changed, but matured. Developed. Settled. A little in the way a haircut settles down once you get it home from the hairdresser and treat it the way you do for a week or so. It loses that sharp-edged unreal glamour, but becomes something natural and comfortable. (Hopefully. There’s just no living with some haircuts.)

For instance, where the original reads Izmir is an unremarkable man, it would be more accurate that every other character who’s run into him in the course of the narrative has remarked on him, and the remarks have demonstrated a considerable reputation for acting out that shows an admirable dedication to the art. Bless his cotton socks (which he leaves on the bedroom floors of the disreputable).

In these sketches, one of my characters isn’t even the younger sister of another – they’re cousins – and I wonder how I ever hadn’t realised how tight and close those two needed to be. (She’s also beautiful – I devote a paragraph to talking about it in the sketch, and remark on how she disdains it. She disdains it so much it hasn’t even come up in any of her viewpoint chapters…)

And my policeman lived in a boarding house – obviously before I realised that if he was doofing a married woman they were going to need somewhere to prosecute said liaison. Actually, from this distance the extent to which he’s based on that appalling agent in Boardwalk Empire is making me side-eye myself a little bit. Really, self? I’m so glad we got over that one.

What delights me the most is that this is really only the halfway point in the development of their stories. They – and I – have so much further still to go.

Happy Camper

Winner Camp NaNo July 2014 Ooh, would you look at that —>

To follow up on my last post, adding to the wordcount of my current project went rather well, actually. I didn’t actually wind up making the 30k I initially signed up for, but Camp is flexible, and enabled me to twiddle my wordcount up until a few days before the end (I finished on 28k). Which I was grateful for, because I was actually so happy with how the month went that it seemed ridiculous to not “win”.

Some big happy-making stuff for me from this month:

  • I wrote every day. Even if it was just opening up the file and moving some words around, or pulling faces and redoing my planning notes for the chapter, I was engaging with the project every day. (And face-pulling word-juggling days were actually really rare. Most days had genuine words added.) This is actually huge for me. I used to write every day while at university, but then again, I also stayed up until 2am every night. It’s good to know that constant productivity is not actually one of those university habits that is completely unsustainable in regular adult life.
  • Writing every day kept me constantly in touch with the project. Increasingly, as the month progressed, there was less and less “getting into the zone” time when addressing myself to the page. The ebb and flow of the project was always present in the recent strata of my mind, all the easier to bring back to the top on command. (Is it like mining, or like image layer editing? The answer lies somewhere between: yes.) Putting together the plot-point notes into easy chapter files a few ahead of where I was meant that I always had where-I’m-going in mind, and could flow more fluently. And this enabled…
  • I wrote all the time. In prep for the month, I made myself a schedule with two evening sessions, and a short lunchtime session (I even booked out a tiny meeting room and everything). But as the month went on, I also started grabbing time whenever I could. Waiting ten minutes while all my office work is out as queries to people? Flip open the laptop and write two paragraphs. Set up a meeting and now waiting for guests to arrive? Another two paragraphs. Having the project mentally on tap at all times made whittling away at it easy. (And bless Google Docs for making anywhere, anytime possible, even if it occasionally fell off the network and forgot to sync. Including on the second-last day of the month. The words were always there when I came back to that device next.)
  • The momentum exerts its own gravity. When I hit a problem and go away from the keyboard to sulk/brainsimmer, the habit draws me back and hammers solutions (make-do or otherwise) out of my brain. And even when ten minutes for two paragraphs didn’t manifest, my brain happily stacked sentences and ideas up in a corner, confident that they wouldn’t have atrophied by the time I finally did get to scribbling. (So very often, in the past, I have endlessly brain-crafted a scene, only to never get time to actually commit it, so eventually my brain goes, “well, fine, I’m not thinking about this any more if I can’t move forward” and I can hardly blame it.)

What now? Now I just want to keep going with this. Perhaps not aiming for another 30 or even 28k this month, because there were times in the month where the pressure was making me cranky, and I don’t like being cranky. But I’d like to continue all those happy points. The daily habit. Etc. So here are a few reminders to myself about how I helped myself do this:

  • I have a complete plotted plan. Admittedly it’s a little thin in places (see the moment last week where I went, “…and?!” at my past self) but it gives me structure.
  • This enables me to lay out my work for the next couple of days. I set up individual Docs (“TO-DO: Zagiri chapter 13”) and load them up with the plotpoints for this chapter, and the surrounding chapters (for reference), as well as throwing in any important influencing chapters (e.g. the part where the alchemist and his client have to go back and shake down the jinni for further details, I included the references to the first time they visited). This way I can’t put myself off when writing with “oh, I’ll have to look up xyz before I can write this bit la la la” because a) I never have to anyway, I always eventually check it and realise I never specified that so I can make up whatever; and b) this is first draft, just shut up, write what this scene needs and line up the details later.
  • When I finish one chapter, I immediately go into the next to-do chapter, look at all that reference material, and draft up a dotpoint structure of the chapter. (e.g. A musing history of the revolution; a meeting of revolutionaries who really aren’t very inspiring; Z making a Big Suggestion.) This will almost always change at least once, but it’s good to have a straw man to set on fire and dance around.
  • Any time I hit a Thing I Need To Check, I just throw it in [brackets] and check it later. (“Oh really,” [whatever her mother’s name is] scolded.) Nothing can be allowed to stand in the way of Progress, yo. Especially not piddly little details like names, hair colour, geography, significant triggering memories and injuries.
  • I did throw words in throughout the day, which meant that often when I got to my scheduled evening schedules, I’d made half or more of my daily requirement, allowing me to also have some downtime in the evening. Which was just such a bonus, and helped make me not-so-cranky. (That said, there were also evenings where, after dinner, I had to head back to the saltmine while Mr Dee got to watch television, and that’s just the way it is. Helped that he was watching Mad Men, which I have given up on because real life is depressingly congratulatory enough to white men already.)
  • No, seriously, yay Google Docs. I still love Scrivener, and it is the best collecting and distilling tool, but writing raw into the cloud is enabling me and I’m a fan.

I’m off to camp! (and other NaNo experiences)

Camp NaNoWriMo, that is.

I first tried NaNoWriMo in 2002, which must have been nearly the first year it ran (or ran big, at least). Everyone in the blogosphere was doing it, and my honours thesis was due to be handed in 1st November, so I figured hells yes. Of course, then I needed a month’s extension, and the whole idea of writing a novel at the same time as finalising my thesis just did not work. (What a surprise.) What with one thing and another – mostly honesty with myself about my likelihood of completing, but also the “new project” thing – I never tried it again.

This year I am looking for any and all ways of kicking, coaxing and tricking myself into finishing my current project. As one of them, I thought hey, why not tempt my inner short-attention-spanned-creative-toddler with telling it it can write that shiny new project in November, as long as the current project is finished in first draft by then?

I checked the viability of this idea by visiting the NaNoWriMo website and having a look around, which was when I discovered that they also now did this thing called Camp NaNoWriMo. Any word count you like, any project (including one already underway), running in April and – oh look at that – July.

Kick, coax or trick, remember. So here I am, just about to start trying to add 30k words to my current project in the month of July.

And it’s tricking me into better practices already. I’ve got an actual written-down daily schedule with two variants incorporating two sessions a day. I’ve got dates with myself for lunchtime mini-sessions every day (even if I only hit half of them, it’ll be something). And I’ve got my next three to-do chapters laid out in mini documents with their storypoints and reference material already included, so there’s no excuse. (Oh yes, I know myself and my tricks of old.)

So here we go…

Anatomy of a writing session

My workspace seemed particularly indicative of current trends tonight, so I thought I’d preserve it for posterity.

A still life featuring writing project and cat.
A brief guide for the new initiate:

A: Scrivener. Actual writing project thing! With words!
B: The Google Doc and accompanying chat window of my writing circle. We have been instituting a virtual writing circle (to go with our monthly workshopping meetings) whereby we show up at an agreed time twice a week, register what we hope to get done, and then sit in together in cyberspace and do it. The benefits of this are manifold, and I will expound upon them another time.
C: Zizou. “Helping”.
D: Zizou controlling device, for when she’s not even pretending to “help”.

(Yes, actually, the screen on this thing is enormous.)

All the reasons why not

So here's an interesting sidenote to start with: My work internet blocks absolutely no websites or web apps except LiveJournal. Baffling as this lone exception is, it's also tremendously annoying, since the only time I have to journal and comment-respond is in five-minute gaps between work things, and then I can't respond to LJ comments. I have been going, “Oh, well, I'll get them when I'm at home, then!” but at-home computer time is writing or games (in the midst of a Wesnoth revival pending the release of Neverwinter) and I always forget. I don't want to turn off LJ commenting, because I love hearing from you guys however and whenever, but bear this in mind.

Back to point!

Encountered today: 8 Reasons Authors Don't Complete Their Manuscripts.

More than a few of these hit me where I live – and especially there were a couple to which I nodded sagely: I would not have finished Boralos if I had not overcome them. Others I find myself wrestling with right now.

Portrait of the artist as an exemplar of various of these problems )

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My enthusiasm has gone down the back of the couch of my subconscious

I'm having a spot of bother with House of Truth and Lies, inasmuch as I've finished the first part, up to my first major candy-bar scene, and maybe I made too much of that scene to myself, because my brain seems to be acting like I've finished the story.

“What?” it's saying. “Those guys? Aren't we done with them? OTHER SHINY IDEAS!”

I thought perhaps it was just doing that because now I had to specific-plot out the second part of the novel. (I have rough plans, but they need fleshing out as I get closer – and I don't like to plan in detail too much because I find that then I do deviate in writing, as though I'm just being contrary. It is me. This is possible.) My psyche is like water, and always seeks the lowest path of least resistance, so I was berating it up the hill of plot-work with a big stick. But now the middle section is all plotted out, and I'm still not really that interested in writing it.

Of course that just won't do. If I'm not enthusiastic about it, no one else will be.

So now I'm trying to think of ways to rediscover my joy and interest and fun. Maybe I need to really settle in with my characters and learn more about them. Maybe I need more world details. Maybe I do need to do something else in the meantime, though that feels fiendishly like letting my brain get away with it.

Any ideas?

In the meantime, I made the “After Dinner Biscuits” from over here… except the Australian is being a fascist about linking to it (I don't have to log-in to see it, why do you have to when I link it?) so I'll C&P the recipe here: Chocolate with chocolate and some chocolate )

PS: Does anyone ever actually have a tablespoon these days? We just turned out house upside down trying to find one I was sure we had. I suppose I could just get a handy tablespoon measure, but it's the principle of the thing.

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Number one: the larch

I've been reading fantasy fiction since I read Victor Kelleher and The Hobbit when I was about 10. I read everything else as well (no, literally, everything – my project for grade 7 was to read every book on the grade-7-only shelves) but I knew I liked that zany stuff. I fell irrevocably into all-fantasy-all-the-time when I discovered the genre as a thing at age 12, courtesy of David Eddings and a helpful librarian. (I remember standing there, staring at the cover of Pawn of Prophecy, with my mind exploding to the tune of “there's a whole body of books like this?” Of course, shortly thereafter the other shoe dropped when I reached the end of Eddings' currently-written works, and discovered that reading fantasy means waiting for the next book.)

But I grew up a sneeze away from the Tropic of Capricorn, basically subtropical, certainly cyclone territory. We had wet seasons when I was a kid, long sticky summers when it would start raining every day punctually between two and four in the afternoon, so three afternoons out of five I would walk home from school in the warm pelting rain with my shoes slung around my neck by their knotted laces. And then I got home, I would dry off and curl up on the couch with a humidity-edged book wherein folks wearing woollen cloaks trudged through frosty forests of oak trees.

This never seemed at all dislocating to me. I can only assume that, in my head, the books were books and the climatic conditions were like dragons – things that happened in the books. It wasn't until I moved south, to a town that actually had visible seasons beyond the wet and dry, that I realised I had no flipping idea what an oak tree looked like, despite practically every book I read using the species name as a shorthand for “and now you know exactly what this forest they're riding through looks like”.

Poinciana? Sure! (I fell out of enough of them as a child, I should be able to spot 'em… also frangipani and their unhelpful hollow branches.) I can recognise a jacaranda even when it isn't in full flower. When someone talks about a fig tree, I expect a banyan.

I started writing Boralos because I came back to my childhood home for Christmas, and watched the fruitbats swarming out of the mangroves at dusk, and thought, “…why am I constantly trying to write European fantasy when this is what flows in my veins?”

Which is absolutely not to say I grew up with hippos up the creek and people having pet pygmy crocodiles. We don't indulge in fantasy to stick with everything that we know, after all. ;)

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