I'll be the first to admit that it's been a heck of a long time since my last post. In fact I'm willing to bet that you all thought I forgot about this old thing. Well, I haven't. I've been putting it off because I wanted my blog posts to be "professional" and have a certain look and feel to them. I wanted to include pictures with every post, but was paranoid about including any pictures that are copyrighted by someone else. I wanted to write a post about little girl princess archetypes, but couldn't find a suitable free domain picture to accompany it. Of course I have a beautiful little girl at home who would love to pose in princess attire, but I was a little paranoid about that too. Privacy issues and all. Perhaps I worry too much. I know I do, self, you don't have to tell me.
So now I'm just going to do it. I'm going to post here regularly even if my posts aren't perfect. They'll get better over time and eventually, hopefully, even start looking professional. That's the thing about writing. It's never going to be perfect. Especially not when you're first starting out. The first draft of everything is always rubbish. Hemmingway said something like that, didn't he? Yes he did, only a bit more bluntly. Personally I love first drafts and pencil sketches. That initial burst of creative potentiality can be absolutely brilliant, but without fine tuning and reshaping, it is, relatively speaking, rubbish. Raw talent is a great thing to have, but it won't get you anywhere without a lot of effort. Skill is key. Even the least talented artist can hone her skill and produce something wonderful. Keep writing, drawing, or whatever you do. Practice will never make perfect. No one ever achieves perfection. Don't expect that, but try for it anyway. The more you do, the more you'll get done.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Why Vampires are Immortal
I have been enthusiastic about vampires ever since I became obsessed with Duckula as a small child. For me vampires embody the longing for eternal youth. They are magical, brooding creatures with a love of romance and a flair for antiquated fashion. These stylish vampires of contemporary fiction are somewhat different from the loathsome monsters of folklore.
I often wonder how the vampires I write will be received when the book is finally published. They follow the standard conventions of avoiding sunlight and lacking reflections but differ in certain key aspects. Most notably, they leave their bodies in the grave. What their victims encounter is something like a ghost made solid by force of will. Vital energy parasitically drained from the living is what they use to maintain the illusion of being alive.
My fear is that Twilight readers will throw my book down in disgust when they find that the vampires therein are not the vampires they're used to. Why, my vampires don't even suck blood really. They just hover over freshly spilled blood and suck up the ethereal vapors. A stake through the heart won't hurt them much unless the hunter can figure out where their discarded body lies. Even that might prove futile because some vampires inhabit other things (like figurines) instead.
Personally I find my vampires more believable and frightening than the norm. They can pass through walls because they are immaterial, yet they're mightily strong. They avoid sunlight because it shines through them, making them invisible and overpowering their senses. They do not reflect because they are disembodied souls with no face to reflect. Living people see them with their minds and only think they are seeing with their eyes. Because they are empowered ghosts, vampires can communicate directly with the human mind and hold a person in their thrall.
Vampires, like so many other literary beings, have been done time and time again. That doesn't mean that they can't be re-imagined in a new light. The adaptability of the vampire mythos is what truly keeps these stories alive.
I often wonder how the vampires I write will be received when the book is finally published. They follow the standard conventions of avoiding sunlight and lacking reflections but differ in certain key aspects. Most notably, they leave their bodies in the grave. What their victims encounter is something like a ghost made solid by force of will. Vital energy parasitically drained from the living is what they use to maintain the illusion of being alive.
My fear is that Twilight readers will throw my book down in disgust when they find that the vampires therein are not the vampires they're used to. Why, my vampires don't even suck blood really. They just hover over freshly spilled blood and suck up the ethereal vapors. A stake through the heart won't hurt them much unless the hunter can figure out where their discarded body lies. Even that might prove futile because some vampires inhabit other things (like figurines) instead.
Personally I find my vampires more believable and frightening than the norm. They can pass through walls because they are immaterial, yet they're mightily strong. They avoid sunlight because it shines through them, making them invisible and overpowering their senses. They do not reflect because they are disembodied souls with no face to reflect. Living people see them with their minds and only think they are seeing with their eyes. Because they are empowered ghosts, vampires can communicate directly with the human mind and hold a person in their thrall.
Vampires, like so many other literary beings, have been done time and time again. That doesn't mean that they can't be re-imagined in a new light. The adaptability of the vampire mythos is what truly keeps these stories alive.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Locations of the Mind
One of the more challenging things for me as a writer is envisioning the layout of the buildings where my scenes take place. There is a certain cabin in one of my novels that has a kitchen connected to the living room. To one side of the living room is a long hall with two small bedrooms on the left and a large one on the right. It was not my intention to design the cabin this way, but it was what worked for my narrative. As it turns out, I realized later, the layout parallels that of my childhood home with only slight variations. Why is this do you suppose?
I believe it is because the occupant of the cabin is a maternal figure. In my mind, I unwittingly envisioned her home as the house I associate most with my mother and grandmother, even though it's a bit of an odd layout for a rustic cabin set back in the woods. Every location I can clearly imagine has some real world counterpart. Even when I'm reading another writer's work, I picture the scenes happening in some place that's familiar to me. The drawing room where the characters take their tea may be an exact replica of the parlor in the Victorian bed and breakfast where my wife and I spent our honeymoon. The beaten down hotel where the characters spend the night may closely resemble the former hotel that I lived in one summer of my youth. Of course there are variations, just as in dreams the world is never quite the same.
Sometimes I will deliberately think of a real place like where I want the scene to occur and then tweak it to make it my own. For instance, there is a coffee shop that I frequent in an old redbrick building. The building has only one floor to speak of, but right across the alley is another old building that is at least three floors high. The upper floors largely consist of a historic "opera house" theater that was gutted out and subdivided into warehouses some time in the mid-Twentieth Century. For my stories, I have merged these two buildings into one. The fictional building is a tall redbrick structure with a coffee shop below and a theater above. In my fantasy, the theater is nearly restored and almost ready for use.
The real world existence of similar locations allows me to draw on my own experiences to fill in the details of these places as needed in my narrative. I've never seen the real theater in full glory, but I've toured the ruins and visited similar theaters.
Vintage photographs also help to fill in the mental void of how it might have looked. Of course my mind also imposes certain details that were never there in the original. My fictional theater has a grand crystal chandelier that casts innumerable dancing rainbows over the audience when an overhead spotlight shines upon it. This detail was inspired by a certain chandelier that exists at one of my favorite Chinese restaurants. As in dreams, memories merge to create a fantasy.
Some writers may find it more useful to plan ahead by drawing blueprints and maps of imaginary locations, but this has never worked well for me. As I write, I see through the eyes of my character. I am often surprised by the places I find.
I believe it is because the occupant of the cabin is a maternal figure. In my mind, I unwittingly envisioned her home as the house I associate most with my mother and grandmother, even though it's a bit of an odd layout for a rustic cabin set back in the woods. Every location I can clearly imagine has some real world counterpart. Even when I'm reading another writer's work, I picture the scenes happening in some place that's familiar to me. The drawing room where the characters take their tea may be an exact replica of the parlor in the Victorian bed and breakfast where my wife and I spent our honeymoon. The beaten down hotel where the characters spend the night may closely resemble the former hotel that I lived in one summer of my youth. Of course there are variations, just as in dreams the world is never quite the same.
Sometimes I will deliberately think of a real place like where I want the scene to occur and then tweak it to make it my own. For instance, there is a coffee shop that I frequent in an old redbrick building. The building has only one floor to speak of, but right across the alley is another old building that is at least three floors high. The upper floors largely consist of a historic "opera house" theater that was gutted out and subdivided into warehouses some time in the mid-Twentieth Century. For my stories, I have merged these two buildings into one. The fictional building is a tall redbrick structure with a coffee shop below and a theater above. In my fantasy, the theater is nearly restored and almost ready for use.
The real world existence of similar locations allows me to draw on my own experiences to fill in the details of these places as needed in my narrative. I've never seen the real theater in full glory, but I've toured the ruins and visited similar theaters.
Vintage photographs also help to fill in the mental void of how it might have looked. Of course my mind also imposes certain details that were never there in the original. My fictional theater has a grand crystal chandelier that casts innumerable dancing rainbows over the audience when an overhead spotlight shines upon it. This detail was inspired by a certain chandelier that exists at one of my favorite Chinese restaurants. As in dreams, memories merge to create a fantasy.
Some writers may find it more useful to plan ahead by drawing blueprints and maps of imaginary locations, but this has never worked well for me. As I write, I see through the eyes of my character. I am often surprised by the places I find.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Goodbye May, Hello June!
As I begin this post, it is May 31, 2010. By the time I finish, it will surely be June 1, 2010. This coming month promises to be a productive and exciting time for me. First and foremost, I will continue my hunt for a day job. Without one of those, I won't even be able to pay rent! As for writing, I'll spend June working on a short story for Leafkin, a folklore-themed anthology put out by the Sylvanopolis Writers Society.
I joined this group while I was living in Sacramento and enjoyed it immensely but didn't feel like I could contribute much because my life was so busy at the time. I had a newborn baby, a toddler, a job, a stressed-out wife, and a full-time course load in college. There just wasn't a whole lot of time for creative pursuits, to my mind. I'm sure I could have made time for it, and it would have been worth it, but I was already struggling to make time for all my commitments. I just sort of let myself fade back into the shadows, as I'm prone to do in social settings. I've always been a bit awkward when it comes to other people. Sylvanopolis was a great experience and I'd love to go back to their meetings if I could.
I shouldn't talk too much about a story that hasn't been finished yet, especially if it happens to be one I'm hoping to publish, but I will tell you that the story I'm writing for Leafkin has something to do with ... . No, on second thought I'd better just let it all be a surprise. At this point, anything could change. I will tell you, though, that I already did write up a story with Leafkin in mind but decided to scrap it in favor of this other idea. It just seems to, you know, fit better with the title and overall theme. Perhaps I'll brush off the earlier story later and send it off to whatever publisher will have it, or file it in a drawer somewhere to get dusty and forgotten. I could go either way on that one. Not every idea is a winner.
That reminds me of the creative writing classes that I took in college. Those were murder. They were helpful, don't get me wrong, but as a writer I can think of nothing more unpleasant than being forced to sit in silence while at least twenty-five young academics methodically analyze and criticize your work. It wouldn't be so bad if they just gave their opinions, but remember that these are students who have been trained in literary theory and symbolism. They impose significance on prose that an average reader would take at face value. They have to because the instructor and entire class is staring at them, waiting for them to say something profound, meaningful, and significant. It's not enough to simply enjoy or fail to enjoy a work; there has to be a reason for it, and that reason has to be explained. The problem is that a reader may not even be consciously aware of why the story was or was not to their liking. Some things just work for some but not for others.
My other complaint about college creative writing classes is that they focus exclusively on the production of "literary fiction" as opposed to what they derisively dub "popular fiction" or "marketable fiction" (i.e. anything that will sell). My very favorite author, Terry Pratchett, has lamented that he has been "accused of literature." The thing my college instructors refused to acknowledge (at least whilst on the clock) is that "popular" is not synonymous with "shallow." Just because some poorly-written, poorly-contrived novels make the best-seller lists does not mean that one should not try to write something that a broad audience will enjoy. In any case, even writers have to make a living, and if it's through writing, I say more power to them.
Oh, to digress back to my earlier point, I am not wholly opposed to analytical readings, but I would contend that they should never be forced. I also feel that it's cruelty to writers to subject them to a prolonged bombardment of such peer criticism, especially if they are fairly new to writing and prone to run out sobbing. Let the critiques be spaced out a bit so that the reader can give a well thought out and honest opinion, and the writer will have a moment to let that opinion set in before moving on to the next critique. I understand that this isn't possible in a classroom setting, given the number of students and the time constraints. That's why I prefer private reading circles, personally.
So that's my rant. Now it's time to hand my brain over to a much better writer. In other words, it's time to sleep and dream. Goodnight, world.
-Plato
I shouldn't talk too much about a story that hasn't been finished yet, especially if it happens to be one I'm hoping to publish, but I will tell you that the story I'm writing for Leafkin has something to do with ... . No, on second thought I'd better just let it all be a surprise. At this point, anything could change. I will tell you, though, that I already did write up a story with Leafkin in mind but decided to scrap it in favor of this other idea. It just seems to, you know, fit better with the title and overall theme. Perhaps I'll brush off the earlier story later and send it off to whatever publisher will have it, or file it in a drawer somewhere to get dusty and forgotten. I could go either way on that one. Not every idea is a winner.
That reminds me of the creative writing classes that I took in college. Those were murder. They were helpful, don't get me wrong, but as a writer I can think of nothing more unpleasant than being forced to sit in silence while at least twenty-five young academics methodically analyze and criticize your work. It wouldn't be so bad if they just gave their opinions, but remember that these are students who have been trained in literary theory and symbolism. They impose significance on prose that an average reader would take at face value. They have to because the instructor and entire class is staring at them, waiting for them to say something profound, meaningful, and significant. It's not enough to simply enjoy or fail to enjoy a work; there has to be a reason for it, and that reason has to be explained. The problem is that a reader may not even be consciously aware of why the story was or was not to their liking. Some things just work for some but not for others.
My other complaint about college creative writing classes is that they focus exclusively on the production of "literary fiction" as opposed to what they derisively dub "popular fiction" or "marketable fiction" (i.e. anything that will sell). My very favorite author, Terry Pratchett, has lamented that he has been "accused of literature." The thing my college instructors refused to acknowledge (at least whilst on the clock) is that "popular" is not synonymous with "shallow." Just because some poorly-written, poorly-contrived novels make the best-seller lists does not mean that one should not try to write something that a broad audience will enjoy. In any case, even writers have to make a living, and if it's through writing, I say more power to them.
Oh, to digress back to my earlier point, I am not wholly opposed to analytical readings, but I would contend that they should never be forced. I also feel that it's cruelty to writers to subject them to a prolonged bombardment of such peer criticism, especially if they are fairly new to writing and prone to run out sobbing. Let the critiques be spaced out a bit so that the reader can give a well thought out and honest opinion, and the writer will have a moment to let that opinion set in before moving on to the next critique. I understand that this isn't possible in a classroom setting, given the number of students and the time constraints. That's why I prefer private reading circles, personally.
So that's my rant. Now it's time to hand my brain over to a much better writer. In other words, it's time to sleep and dream. Goodnight, world.
-Plato
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