Sunday, June 29, 2014

Just do it!

Yes I'm channeling Nike here.

By C. Michelle Jefferies

I know several writers in real life and through social media. I see several way to approach writing because of it. It's fascinating to see how people plot, structure, and pants their way through a story. Sometimes I even find a little something that I can  use for myself from this interaction.

I noticed one thing that some authors do and it has me wondering at what is going on. This particular habit is the perfect procrastinator for someone who doesn't ever want to actually finish a story.

This is called the super planner.

There are writers who have one or several story ideas and while these story ideas might be great, they're never going to finish them. They have notebooks full of notes, binders full of details about characters. Idea after idea. While research and organization is good, it can also be a deal breaker if your entire time you should be writing is spent researching or filling out character data sheets.

My suggestion is this. Stop it. Stop obsessing about every little detail about your character. Stop obsessing about your setting. Stop researching the story. Just do it. Just put your BUTT in a chair and write the story. Don't let this bad habit stop you from finishing the story.

Want to be a published author eventually? Five words. Stop it. Just do it.   

The path to wisdom is not always straight

Saturday, June 28, 2014

Holy Cow

By Keith N Fisher

As I’ve mentioned before, I have a WIP file on my computer. It contains work in progress manuscripts in different phases of development. I realized the other day that I’ve written more books then some authors did, during their whole career. Can you believe it? I’m a seasoned veteran.

Once, I was accused of being afraid of rejection. Otherwise I would’ve submitted all those WIP’s and got them published. I’ve been told I should self publish, and I’ve beaten the horse of being published, or not, several times. The truth is, I’ve been submitting and collecting rejections. I keep writing.

I realized another truth the other day. I’m not ready to grow up. On Facebook, I read that if you haven’t grown up by the time you’re fifty, you don’t have to. I’m fifty-something and I want to be a kid forever, like Peter Pan said:

I won't grow up. I don't want to go to school. Just to lear to be a parrot, and recite a silly rule.
If growing up means it would be beneath my dignity to climb a tree.
I'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up. Not me.

I won't grow up. I don't want to wear a tie, and a serious expression in the middle of July.
If it means I must prepare to shoulder burdens with a worried air.
I'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up. Not me. So there!

Never gonna be a man. I won't!
I’d like to see somebody try and make me.
Anyone who wants to try, and make me turn into a man . . . catch me if you can.

I won't grow up. Not a penny will I pinch. I’ll never grow a mustache, or a fraction of an inch.
'Cause growing up is awfuller than all the awful things that ever were.
I'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up, No sir.

Seriously, I wish I could be sixteen again and know what I know, now. I’d love to do certain things all over again and avoid the mistakes. I would take my knowledge of events and use it to my advantage. I would become the best friend of those who made history. I would apply my knowledge and do it before they did. Yes Dr. Brown, I would change history.

Steven King wrote a book about the possibilities. He called it 11-22-63. Read it if you can get past the language and innuendo. I hear that JJ Abrams might make it a movie.

Okay, what was the point of my ramble? I don’t know, but holy cow. I’ve written more books than many of the best sellers did in their lifetime. I still wonder where my ideas come from.

Good luck with your writing—see you next week.

Saturday, June 14, 2014

May I See Your ID, Please?

By Keith N Fisher

After one of my twenty-four hour, Fridays, I came home from work.

I told myself, "Self. It’s Saturday Morning, did you post a blog?"

I answered, No, Self, I’ve been so busy that—"

I interrupted my self and said, "You can’t lie to yourself, self. You had time to write."

It’s true. While eating lunch at my desk, I’ve been writing. I could’ve written a blog post then, but my story is going so well, and with research . . .

Okay, I’m sorry. Those who follow my meager blog posts will know, I’m working two eight-hour jobs. On Friday’s I go to work in the morning. Get off in the afternoon. Hopefully, sleep for three hours and work all night. It’s been killer, but I’ve been writing my historical novel when I can.

I started this book a few years ago, but it just wasn’t working after sixty thousand-words. So, I put it aside. Recently, I picked it up and knew what needed to be done. Now I’m excited; writing, plotting, and researching.

The book is set in 1850 and problems I never thought about before have surfaced. I keep tossing words in that didn’t exist in 1850. Or they hadn’t made it into our vocabulary yet. It’s hard enough to try and describe Fort Bridger from journal accounts but I tossed in the word "patsy" the other day, and realized it hadn’t been invented yet.

I knew about "okay". That word had been coined, but hadn’t found it’s way into popular speech yet. Other words are even more modern, and we, writers tend to insert them into our character’s mouths. I found myself asking my words for their ID, because if they aren’t old enough, my characters wouldn’t say them.

I’m also afraid of contractions. The truth is, people used them, but mostly not. I throw them in anyway. The new version of the movie, True Grit, is true to the book in that way, but the speech patterns were both refreshing, and drove me crazy, too. Still, I know lot of that is subjective, but I want people to enjoy this great story. Even those educated people, who know the difference.

I’m getting through it, but I get tired of asking my customers for ID to purchase beer. I never thought I’d have to ask my words.

Good luck with your writing—see you next week.