Hi everyone - happy Friday! I hope you're all (by which I mean the British ones - sorry rest of the world) enjoying this wonderful Indian Summer we're having.
As long as I can remember I've thought the phrase 'Indian Summer' was enchanting and lovely, and I've always longed to be able to use it in conversation. And now I can! Hurray!
Another hurray for the fact that yesterday I finally managed to get my passport interview sorted out, and, barring mishaps, I should have my very own passport sometime in the next two weeks. Now if I ever make any money I can actually go places other than the UK! Although if the weather continues like this, I won't want to...
Back to business. Today began with an Oooops as I belatedly realised that I promised to pick the winner of last Friday's Ten Things I Love Giveaway this Monday. But I completely forgot because of that comment from the girl who was made to feel ashamed about reading YA at college, which caused me to feel an overwhelming need to get my rant on. Sorry about that, everyone!
Just to re-cap, I asked people to tell me their list of Ten Things They Loved in the comments before midnight on Friday, and promised I would randomly pick a participant to win a signed copy of Shadows on the Moon. I'll probably throw in a few associated goodies like magnets and postcards as well.
Having had a few bolstering sips of coffee, I've duly crunched the numbers through Random.org and the winner is:
(Drumroll Please)
JOANNA FARROW!
Congratulations, Joanna - please email me at z d marriott at gmail dot com and tell me your address, and I'll get your prize in the post for you as soon as I possibly can.
Commiserations to everyone else, but there's always a next time on my blog, so don't feel too depressed about it. Have a wonderful Friday and a great weekend, and I'll see you all on Monday!
Friday, 30 September 2011
Wednesday, 28 September 2011
THE LOVE THAT KILLS
Hello Dear Readers, and welcome to another delightful Wednesday on the Zoë-Trope!
Today I'm going to talk about love. And not just any love. The deadly kind.
I am not referencing here the sort of feelings that a slender brunette who has never quite fitted in instantly and inexplicably develops for the marble cupcake Adonis who wants to follow her around and watch her sleep and also rip out her throat and chug down her florally scented tastyblood. No.
I'm talking about this: R.J. Anderson's comment about beloved scenes on Twitter.
R.J.'s Tweet yesterday got me thinking about this kind of love. The love that a writer has for her work.
Well, obviously not all of her work, since about 50-90% of the time that you're working on a first draft you're likely to be under the impression that you are trying to chip the words out of solid granite by hand, with only a blunt spoon for assistance.
But there are...certain scenes, aren't there? Scenes that are just a little bit special to you. Often these are the scenes that presented themselves to you right at the beginning of your thinking process about the story, and which made you go: 'No way! That would be SO. AWESOME. And COOL! It would be Awesome with a side of Cool Sauce!' and thereby motivated you through coming up with an actual plot and setting and characters.
In fact, scenes like this are what motivate us through all those bits with the granite block and the blunt spoon. We tend to think about them wistfully, imagining all the ways that the AwesomeCoolSauceness could play out. What if the whole place just exploded? What if the hero literally bounced right off the wall? What if there were, like, shooting stars omg?
These beloved scenes become a kind of comfort blanket for the frazzled writer, I think. Sure, sure, this scene that we're writing now sucks with the force of a thousand black holes. Sure, sure, that last chapter was about as convincing as a politician promising 'change' (ha ha). But AwesomeCoolSauce Scene will be different. It will go exactly to plan. It will blaze off the page with all the beauty and intensity of the very first time you snuggled a kitten. Dammit, AwesomeCoolSauce Scene WILL BE PERFECT (Writer Hulk Smash!).
Except...yeah. No it won't.
I have a very good friend who is working on a book at the moment. She's completed several stories before and has always been interested in the craft of writing, but this manuscript is different. It has caught her imagination and her love in a unique way, and for the first time she's seriously talking about seeking publication. I'm very happy about this, because, having talked to her in great depth about the story and its characters, I'm convinced that the book is going to rock the world's socks. However...
My friend is having trouble with her climax.
Right since the beginning of her ideas process with this book, she's had a plan for how the story and characters were going to resolve themselves. She wasn't perfectly sure how she was going to get there but she did know, with crystal clarity, just how it was all going to end. And for a long time that that knowledge motivated and inspired her. But now it's become like a brick around her neck. Every time I talk to her she's this close to launching into the climactic scenes, and then the next time we speak she's all downhearted because somehow she wrote and wrote but just didn't get there.
Her writerly brain has now invested this scene with so much importance, so much significance, that any attempt she makes to actually write the thing just seems wrong and terrible and off. So subconsciously, her brain is forcing her to swim against the tide, words stretching out in front of her as she frantically paddles but never gets anywhere.
You might think that I would have some sort of handy-dandy advice to offer my friend, to quickly and simply extract her from this fix. But unfortunately I am by no means standing on any kind of creative high ground when it comes to this issue. I was in a very similar position when I was writing FrostFire. The whole book had always been working towards a certain outcome, and this outcome had never altered despite me rearranging the entire plot and giving all the characters a sex change multiple times.
As a result, the climax to my story had grown in my head until it was - had to be - the most heart-rending, beautiful, perfect climax to a book that I hadeverwrittengodammit. I got stuck in the preceding scene for over a month, completely unable to move forward. How do you start the most beautiful, perfect climax to a book that you haveeverwrittengodammit? HOW? What is the most beautiful and perfect first line? First word? I was paralysed by the weight of responsibility - paralysed by my desperation to not mess up this beautiful and perfect scene.
Eventually, some very strange tactics got me through the block. Like, taking a cold shower in the middle of the day and writing in my towel with wet hair and eating about four bars of chocolate as I typed until I felt sick, kind of tactics. Frankly, I don't recommend them.
Here's the nub of the matter. The thing that paralyses us because we cannot bring ourselves to admit it. The truth about AwesomeCoolSauce Scene. No matter how much we agonise over it and visualise it and long for it, we will never actually write it.
That's right. AwesomeCoolSauce Scene is never actually going to exist anywhere but in your brain. The moment you start taking those awe-inspiring, beautiful and perfect ideas and start pinning them to the page with words, some of their awe-inspiringness and beauty and perfection will, by definition, evaporate.
I'm willing to lay my life that no writer in the history of the world - not Shakespeare, not Dickens, not Yeats, not Austen or Bronte or Jones - has ever managed to write their AwesomeCoolSauce Scene. I'm willing to lay my life that they never even managed to write that beautiful and perfect first line, or even a beautiful and perfect first word.
But does that mean that we, as readers, don't look at their words and feel completely transformed by the beauty and perfection of their words and lines and scenes? Does that mean that we cannot and will not yell: 'Holy Cr*p, this scene is So. Awesome! It's so cool! It's AWESOME WITH A SIDE OF COOL SAUCE!'
HELL NO.
And by torturing ourselves into a small, gooey puddle with the idea of our impossible perfect scene, we are depriving our potential readers of the chance to read THEIR perfect scene.
So what to do?
Well, here's what I've learned (and if other writers reading this have solutions of their own, please feel free to chime in there in the comments):
Today I'm going to talk about love. And not just any love. The deadly kind.
I am not referencing here the sort of feelings that a slender brunette who has never quite fitted in instantly and inexplicably develops for the marble cupcake Adonis who wants to follow her around and watch her sleep and also rip out her throat and chug down her florally scented tastyblood. No.
I'm talking about this: R.J. Anderson's comment about beloved scenes on Twitter.
R.J.'s Tweet yesterday got me thinking about this kind of love. The love that a writer has for her work.
Well, obviously not all of her work, since about 50-90% of the time that you're working on a first draft you're likely to be under the impression that you are trying to chip the words out of solid granite by hand, with only a blunt spoon for assistance.
But there are...certain scenes, aren't there? Scenes that are just a little bit special to you. Often these are the scenes that presented themselves to you right at the beginning of your thinking process about the story, and which made you go: 'No way! That would be SO. AWESOME. And COOL! It would be Awesome with a side of Cool Sauce!' and thereby motivated you through coming up with an actual plot and setting and characters.
In fact, scenes like this are what motivate us through all those bits with the granite block and the blunt spoon. We tend to think about them wistfully, imagining all the ways that the AwesomeCoolSauceness could play out. What if the whole place just exploded? What if the hero literally bounced right off the wall? What if there were, like, shooting stars omg?
These beloved scenes become a kind of comfort blanket for the frazzled writer, I think. Sure, sure, this scene that we're writing now sucks with the force of a thousand black holes. Sure, sure, that last chapter was about as convincing as a politician promising 'change' (ha ha). But AwesomeCoolSauce Scene will be different. It will go exactly to plan. It will blaze off the page with all the beauty and intensity of the very first time you snuggled a kitten. Dammit, AwesomeCoolSauce Scene WILL BE PERFECT (Writer Hulk Smash!).
Except...yeah. No it won't.
I have a very good friend who is working on a book at the moment. She's completed several stories before and has always been interested in the craft of writing, but this manuscript is different. It has caught her imagination and her love in a unique way, and for the first time she's seriously talking about seeking publication. I'm very happy about this, because, having talked to her in great depth about the story and its characters, I'm convinced that the book is going to rock the world's socks. However...
My friend is having trouble with her climax.
Right since the beginning of her ideas process with this book, she's had a plan for how the story and characters were going to resolve themselves. She wasn't perfectly sure how she was going to get there but she did know, with crystal clarity, just how it was all going to end. And for a long time that that knowledge motivated and inspired her. But now it's become like a brick around her neck. Every time I talk to her she's this close to launching into the climactic scenes, and then the next time we speak she's all downhearted because somehow she wrote and wrote but just didn't get there.
Her writerly brain has now invested this scene with so much importance, so much significance, that any attempt she makes to actually write the thing just seems wrong and terrible and off. So subconsciously, her brain is forcing her to swim against the tide, words stretching out in front of her as she frantically paddles but never gets anywhere.
You might think that I would have some sort of handy-dandy advice to offer my friend, to quickly and simply extract her from this fix. But unfortunately I am by no means standing on any kind of creative high ground when it comes to this issue. I was in a very similar position when I was writing FrostFire. The whole book had always been working towards a certain outcome, and this outcome had never altered despite me rearranging the entire plot and giving all the characters a sex change multiple times.
As a result, the climax to my story had grown in my head until it was - had to be - the most heart-rending, beautiful, perfect climax to a book that I hadeverwrittengodammit. I got stuck in the preceding scene for over a month, completely unable to move forward. How do you start the most beautiful, perfect climax to a book that you haveeverwrittengodammit? HOW? What is the most beautiful and perfect first line? First word? I was paralysed by the weight of responsibility - paralysed by my desperation to not mess up this beautiful and perfect scene.
Eventually, some very strange tactics got me through the block. Like, taking a cold shower in the middle of the day and writing in my towel with wet hair and eating about four bars of chocolate as I typed until I felt sick, kind of tactics. Frankly, I don't recommend them.
Here's the nub of the matter. The thing that paralyses us because we cannot bring ourselves to admit it. The truth about AwesomeCoolSauce Scene. No matter how much we agonise over it and visualise it and long for it, we will never actually write it.
That's right. AwesomeCoolSauce Scene is never actually going to exist anywhere but in your brain. The moment you start taking those awe-inspiring, beautiful and perfect ideas and start pinning them to the page with words, some of their awe-inspiringness and beauty and perfection will, by definition, evaporate.
I'm willing to lay my life that no writer in the history of the world - not Shakespeare, not Dickens, not Yeats, not Austen or Bronte or Jones - has ever managed to write their AwesomeCoolSauce Scene. I'm willing to lay my life that they never even managed to write that beautiful and perfect first line, or even a beautiful and perfect first word.
But does that mean that we, as readers, don't look at their words and feel completely transformed by the beauty and perfection of their words and lines and scenes? Does that mean that we cannot and will not yell: 'Holy Cr*p, this scene is So. Awesome! It's so cool! It's AWESOME WITH A SIDE OF COOL SAUCE!'
HELL NO.
And by torturing ourselves into a small, gooey puddle with the idea of our impossible perfect scene, we are depriving our potential readers of the chance to read THEIR perfect scene.
So what to do?
Well, here's what I've learned (and if other writers reading this have solutions of their own, please feel free to chime in there in the comments):
1) You can distract yourself from the responsibility of writing AwesomeCoolSauce Scene by making yourself hideously uncomfortable as you write. But, like I said, not really endorsing that one so much.
2) You can try to fool yourself by saying 'I'm not actually writing AwesomeCoolSauce Scene here. I'm just practising. Scribbling. Making notes. That DOES NOT COUNT!'In closing - loving the idea of a certain scene and using this to motivate yourself = good. Loving the idea of a certain scene so much that it literally kills your story (or you, from pneumonia) = very bad. Stay safe, kids!
3) You can go the other way and outline the Hell out of this scene, using coloured pens, bullet points and a graph so you know exactly what to do, right down to where the characters have to stop to breathe. This gives you a sense of confidence going in, even if you diverge from the outline as you write.
4) This one is a complete last resort for me, because I am hopelessly linear in my process. But of course, if you feel AwesomeCoolSauce Scene hanging over you like a threat the closer you get to it, you can always skip ahead and just write that sucker so it's not freaking you out anymore.
5) Try coming at the scene from a different perpective, like writing the first part from a different character's POV, even if you've no intention of using it in the final version. It might help you to avoid the intensity of knowing it. Must. All. Be. Perfect.
Monday, 26 September 2011
A QUESTION OF READING
Hello, and happy Monday my lovelies. Yes, it is happy, really - I mean, you didn't die in your sleep, did you? And nor did anyone that you love/like/are moderately fond of? Then it's a win.
So today I'm tackling a reader question which came in from an Anonymous commenter:
I'm guessing someone sneered, didn't they? It might have been the other students, maybe a teaching assistant or even a lecturer. They asked you what your favourite book or author was, and when you told them an author or book they didn't know, and you explained that s/he/it was YA, they sneered. Maybe it was a flicker of an expression before they said: 'Oh! How nice!' or maybe it was a full out, pitying laugh followed by some nasty little remark.
Or maybe it wasn't even that. Maybe everyone was having what seemed to be this enormously erudite discussion about Faulkner or Chaucer or Franzen and you immediately realised that mentioning Pullman or Rowling or Pratchett would make you stick out like a Goth Rocker at a Justin Beiber concert.
But whatever happened, suddenly all your joy in reading and books and the English language - all the things that you went to college to nurture and develop - withered away and you felt like dying.
Here's my verdict on these people and this environment that have already started to make you feel insecure and unhappy and lesser.
Screw 'em.
Seriously. It's not you. It's them. You are an articulate, open-hearted, wonderful person. It shines out even in those few lines you wrote there in my comments trail. It shines out even though you were writing from a cold place of anxiety and doubt. THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH YOU.
You are a young adult. You enjoy reading young adult literature. In what sort of strange universe could that possibly make you a 'baby'? You're the person young adult literature is aimed at! You're the person I'm holding in my heart the whole time I'm stringing words together and blubbing over my keyboard and revising until my brain burns. You're the one I'm desperately hoping to reach. You're the one that makes it all worthwhile.
Now, look - maybe I'm biased. I'm a young adult writer myself, after all. It makes sense that I'd want young people to read young adult fiction with excitement and happiness rather than shame, or worse, give up reading YA altogether. But I'm an adult myself, and guess what 75% of my reading material is? That's right. YA fiction.
And my writing friends, some of whom are enormously successful bestsellers? They're all adults. Between 50-90% of their reading material seems to be young adult.
What about my other friends? The doctor, the IT specialist, the civil servant, the librarian? The teacher, the accountant? OH LOOK! They all read YA too!
Why is that? Why do so many adults read heaps of YA fiction? Why does YA fiction seem to be outselling adult fiction disturbingly often? Why are so many films being made from YA books right now? Because YA is good literature, that's why. It's just as well written, just as experimental, just as beautifully characterised, just as complex, just as worthy as literature aimed at adults. The only difference in most cases is that the protagonist is younger. And, as you may or may not know, many YA books come out these days in twin editions, with one lot of cover artwork aimed at adults and a second aimed at younger people. Often when YA books are sold in different countries, there's a debate over whether they should be marketed at adult or YA markets because these books are so strong that, basically, anyone can love them.
It's great that some of your fellow students enjoy books from the 'adult' section of the library or bookshop. There's some fantastic stories there! In truth, I spent much of my own teens reading adult books, mainly because I'd already gone through all the children's and YA books in all my local libraries and the adult sections were much bigger. For a while I even forgot how much I'd loved YA books. But when I got older I was drawn back to all those old favourites. I was drawn to discover new ones. I was drawn back to YA.
As an adult, with adult responsibilities and a full-time job, I realised that I loved reading books aimed at YA, and writing stories intended for YA, more than I had ever loved ANYTHING. I decided to devote my life to YA books. That is some strong shizz, yo. YA is strong shizz.
But this isn't just about YA. It's about the fact that, in this life, there are always people who seek to make themselves feel better by making other people feel worse. The people/person that sneered at you, or the people/person who held forth on their favourite books in a way that was no doubt intended to impress everyone with how terribly grown up and clever they were while making you all feel childish and stupid? That's what they were doing. They have chosen to do that in this case by setting themselves up as arbiters of literary taste. And I'm sorry to say that even if you stopped reading YA books RIGHT NOW, that wouldn't be enough.
They'd be on your case because you read books that were science fiction or fantasy. Or because you read books with romance in them. Or because you read books by female authors. Or because you read historical fiction.You can't win, and trying to do so will just make you miserable.
I've been exactly where you are. I went to college with amazing GCSE results, a bright and eager reader and writer, exactly the sort of person that everyone there should have been keen to support and develop. And instead, I found college incredibly isolating. In my case it was because I didn't have as much money as the other students, because I was pretty sure there was no way I could afford to go to university. Everyone around me, from my contemporaries to the lecturers, made assumptions about me - where I'd been, where I was going - and I tried to fit in with that. I wanted to avoid being sneered at and bullied like I had been all my life so far, so I suppressed my real personality.
When everyone was talking about the amazing holidays they'd had abroad, or the West End shows they'd seen, or what they were doing over the weekend, I smiled and laughed and hoped no one would notice that I had nothing to add. The lecturers told me off because I never went along on field trips, never thinking that it might be because I couldn't afford to.
In the end, of course, everyone began to sense that something wasn't quite right. Rumours started. My fake personality caved in. I ended up dropping out, and that's something I've regretted ever since. But even more than that, I regret that after so many years of being true to myself at school, I allowed my desire to fit in at college push me into pretending to be something I wasn't. It was doomed to fail from the start. The only way to deal with feelings of insecurity and uncertainty - the only way to deal with the people who seek to make you feel insecure and uncertain - is to laugh at them.
Listen to me now. It might take a while for this to sink in, but I'd like you to remember these words and think about them from time to time, because I think they'll help.
Your goal in life is to be an interesting, fully rounded person who cares about other people, but doesn't let them influence her. Your goal in life is to be funny, and strong, and kind. Your goal in life is to be happy. Your goal in life is to be the best version of you, with all your unique strengths and desires and dreams. Your goal is never, never, never to change yourself, or try to be like any other person.
Go forth and be proud, Anonymous YA reader. You're following in the footsteps of giants like Phillip Pullman, Terry Pratchett, Robin McKinley, Tamora Pierce, Diana Wynne Jones and Ursula Le Guin. You're following in my footsteps. But the path you take is your own, and no one can turn you from it, unless you let them.
Go forth and kick some ass.
So today I'm tackling a reader question which came in from an Anonymous commenter:
"I've just started college; I'm 17 years old next month. I'm taking English Literature because it's my favourite subject, but I feel like a baby because I discovered yesterday that most people in my class read 'adult' books and I'm still in the YA section. Is it stupid that I feel like crawling into a hole and dying, to never pick up a YA book again? I feel like such a baby, should I stop reading YA and move on to 'older' fiction?"Oh, sweetie! This question makes me want to scream and run around in circles and bang my head against the wall until the sweet oblivion of a fractured skull takes away the pain. Not because of you! Because of this cray-cray world we're living in, where being judgemental and prejudiced is so damn trendy.
I'm guessing someone sneered, didn't they? It might have been the other students, maybe a teaching assistant or even a lecturer. They asked you what your favourite book or author was, and when you told them an author or book they didn't know, and you explained that s/he/it was YA, they sneered. Maybe it was a flicker of an expression before they said: 'Oh! How nice!' or maybe it was a full out, pitying laugh followed by some nasty little remark.
Or maybe it wasn't even that. Maybe everyone was having what seemed to be this enormously erudite discussion about Faulkner or Chaucer or Franzen and you immediately realised that mentioning Pullman or Rowling or Pratchett would make you stick out like a Goth Rocker at a Justin Beiber concert.
But whatever happened, suddenly all your joy in reading and books and the English language - all the things that you went to college to nurture and develop - withered away and you felt like dying.
Here's my verdict on these people and this environment that have already started to make you feel insecure and unhappy and lesser.
Screw 'em.
Seriously. It's not you. It's them. You are an articulate, open-hearted, wonderful person. It shines out even in those few lines you wrote there in my comments trail. It shines out even though you were writing from a cold place of anxiety and doubt. THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH YOU.
You are a young adult. You enjoy reading young adult literature. In what sort of strange universe could that possibly make you a 'baby'? You're the person young adult literature is aimed at! You're the person I'm holding in my heart the whole time I'm stringing words together and blubbing over my keyboard and revising until my brain burns. You're the one I'm desperately hoping to reach. You're the one that makes it all worthwhile.
Now, look - maybe I'm biased. I'm a young adult writer myself, after all. It makes sense that I'd want young people to read young adult fiction with excitement and happiness rather than shame, or worse, give up reading YA altogether. But I'm an adult myself, and guess what 75% of my reading material is? That's right. YA fiction.
And my writing friends, some of whom are enormously successful bestsellers? They're all adults. Between 50-90% of their reading material seems to be young adult.
What about my other friends? The doctor, the IT specialist, the civil servant, the librarian? The teacher, the accountant? OH LOOK! They all read YA too!
Why is that? Why do so many adults read heaps of YA fiction? Why does YA fiction seem to be outselling adult fiction disturbingly often? Why are so many films being made from YA books right now? Because YA is good literature, that's why. It's just as well written, just as experimental, just as beautifully characterised, just as complex, just as worthy as literature aimed at adults. The only difference in most cases is that the protagonist is younger. And, as you may or may not know, many YA books come out these days in twin editions, with one lot of cover artwork aimed at adults and a second aimed at younger people. Often when YA books are sold in different countries, there's a debate over whether they should be marketed at adult or YA markets because these books are so strong that, basically, anyone can love them.
It's great that some of your fellow students enjoy books from the 'adult' section of the library or bookshop. There's some fantastic stories there! In truth, I spent much of my own teens reading adult books, mainly because I'd already gone through all the children's and YA books in all my local libraries and the adult sections were much bigger. For a while I even forgot how much I'd loved YA books. But when I got older I was drawn back to all those old favourites. I was drawn to discover new ones. I was drawn back to YA.
As an adult, with adult responsibilities and a full-time job, I realised that I loved reading books aimed at YA, and writing stories intended for YA, more than I had ever loved ANYTHING. I decided to devote my life to YA books. That is some strong shizz, yo. YA is strong shizz.
But this isn't just about YA. It's about the fact that, in this life, there are always people who seek to make themselves feel better by making other people feel worse. The people/person that sneered at you, or the people/person who held forth on their favourite books in a way that was no doubt intended to impress everyone with how terribly grown up and clever they were while making you all feel childish and stupid? That's what they were doing. They have chosen to do that in this case by setting themselves up as arbiters of literary taste. And I'm sorry to say that even if you stopped reading YA books RIGHT NOW, that wouldn't be enough.
They'd be on your case because you read books that were science fiction or fantasy. Or because you read books with romance in them. Or because you read books by female authors. Or because you read historical fiction.You can't win, and trying to do so will just make you miserable.
I've been exactly where you are. I went to college with amazing GCSE results, a bright and eager reader and writer, exactly the sort of person that everyone there should have been keen to support and develop. And instead, I found college incredibly isolating. In my case it was because I didn't have as much money as the other students, because I was pretty sure there was no way I could afford to go to university. Everyone around me, from my contemporaries to the lecturers, made assumptions about me - where I'd been, where I was going - and I tried to fit in with that. I wanted to avoid being sneered at and bullied like I had been all my life so far, so I suppressed my real personality.
When everyone was talking about the amazing holidays they'd had abroad, or the West End shows they'd seen, or what they were doing over the weekend, I smiled and laughed and hoped no one would notice that I had nothing to add. The lecturers told me off because I never went along on field trips, never thinking that it might be because I couldn't afford to.
In the end, of course, everyone began to sense that something wasn't quite right. Rumours started. My fake personality caved in. I ended up dropping out, and that's something I've regretted ever since. But even more than that, I regret that after so many years of being true to myself at school, I allowed my desire to fit in at college push me into pretending to be something I wasn't. It was doomed to fail from the start. The only way to deal with feelings of insecurity and uncertainty - the only way to deal with the people who seek to make you feel insecure and uncertain - is to laugh at them.
Listen to me now. It might take a while for this to sink in, but I'd like you to remember these words and think about them from time to time, because I think they'll help.
Your goal in life is to be an interesting, fully rounded person who cares about other people, but doesn't let them influence her. Your goal in life is to be funny, and strong, and kind. Your goal in life is to be happy. Your goal in life is to be the best version of you, with all your unique strengths and desires and dreams. Your goal is never, never, never to change yourself, or try to be like any other person.
Go forth and be proud, Anonymous YA reader. You're following in the footsteps of giants like Phillip Pullman, Terry Pratchett, Robin McKinley, Tamora Pierce, Diana Wynne Jones and Ursula Le Guin. You're following in my footsteps. But the path you take is your own, and no one can turn you from it, unless you let them.
Go forth and kick some ass.
Friday, 23 September 2011
TEN THINGS I LOVE
Hello, Dear Readers - and happy Friday! Isn't it lovely to see Friday again? It never gets old, does it? Today's post is brought to you via a meme (borrowed from the lovely Steph Burgis' Blog), wherein you take a moment to list ten things in your life that you love and are grateful for, just to remind yourself how lucky you are (and I have been tremendously lucky, I know).
So here we go:
1) Being a published writer. It might sound strange to list this as a thing I love, but it's true. I really do love being a writer, a published writer. I love this life. I spent my whole childhood, my teens and my early twenties longing for this outcome, bargaining with higher powers (and fairies, and the spirits, and fate and luck and any other supernatural thing I could think of) If only I could get published... And now I am. And I've got an unspeakably wonderful agent, a complete dream editor, the best readers ever, and I get to do this full-time, at least for a while. How wonderful is that? Sometimes I still have to stop and take a minute to absorb the fact that it's really, really real. I hope I always will.
2) Finbar Finley Finbarsson the Third. Needs no explanation, really. I mean, just look at him!
3) My online YA community. The people that I've met online - mostly on Twitter - have been an absolute Godsend to me. You may remember my Insecurity: I Haz It post, where I talked about how lonely and isolated I had felt in the past as a writer in my small, rural community. Family and friends tried to be supportive but the simple fact is that calling your sister or friend at work at three in the afternoon to say: '3k today, wahooo!' is likely to get a very puzzled reaction indeed. Online, that statement gets you virtual high-fives and hugs and genuinely interested questions about your WIP because the YA writing/reading community - bloggers, readers, writers both published and aspiring - GETS IT. I can't tell you how amazing it is to have a group of friends who get it. I love you guys!
4) My writing group. We've been around in one form or another since about 2002, but in 2004 the lovely Barbara decided to give us a name, The Furtive Scribblers, and we've never looked back. Most of my very best ideas for stories and situations and characters have evolved from the convoluted, tangenital discussions I have with my writing group that start out about unicorns as a mythological representation of innocence and end up with psychosomatic injuries. That this bunch of learned, educated, well-travelled, well-read individuals all gather together on a regular basis to, basically, talk crazy - and that it really works! - is a wonder and a joy to me.
5) Clouds and water. I'm so lucky to have access to wild green spaces in my day to day life. When I'm frustrated, sad, blocked or just restless, a long walk among the sighing grasses, looking at the clouds and the reflections in the water, eases my soul like nothing else ever has.
6) Books. Books, books, books. Do I need to say anymore here? There are a million authors I could thank for expanding my mind, my understanding, my heart and my soul, but basically...I love books. Even the books I hate, I also love in a strange way. Books. I love you.
7) Trains. Waiting at the station, watching the other trains pass by, leaving a blurred white snapshot on the back of my eyelids of incomplete faces peering out of the windows. The muffled, melancholic sounds of the announcements over the tannoy, mentioning places and routes that seem oddly exotic even if I've been there before. Getting on my own train, watching the other passengers from the corners of my eyes and making up names and stories for them based on the fact that they wear a red tie with a blue suit or that their shopping bag has a rainbow badge on it. And then, as the train pulls away, popping my headphones in, taking out my notebook and just writing. Writing faster than I ever manage to do in real life - because being on a train, sitting still and yet travelling - isn't real life. It's unreal, and it's quiet even though it's noisy, and private even though it's in public. On Tuesday I did a three hour round trip and managed to write nearly twenty notebook pages, which translates to about 5,000 words. A normal day's work in my Writing Cave (between six to twelve hours) produces 2,000 if I'm lucky. So yeah, you bet I love trains.
8) My iPod. At the click of a finger I can conjure up any mood I wish. Need to feel sad? Wistful? Angry? Determined? Pumped and optimistic? Joyful and relaxed? I have a playlist for it, trust me. My dad, when asked what music he likes, just says: 'Ask Zoë. She has all the music'. And he's right. I do. Right here on my trusty iPod.
9) Papermate Nylon Blue Tuck nylon fibre tip pen with 1.0mm line width and blue ink. Not fancy, not expensive, but still my favourite pen in the whole wide world.
10) You. My Dear Readers, questioning, funny, clever, creative, persistent and perfect as you are. I wouldn't swap you for anything.
QUICK CONTEST: List Ten Things YOU Love in the comments before before midnight tonight, and one randomly chosen winner will receive a signed UK paperback copy of Shadows on the Moon. This giveaway is open internationally. I will pick the winner on Saturday and announce on Monday. Ready, steady...Go!
So here we go:
1) Being a published writer. It might sound strange to list this as a thing I love, but it's true. I really do love being a writer, a published writer. I love this life. I spent my whole childhood, my teens and my early twenties longing for this outcome, bargaining with higher powers (and fairies, and the spirits, and fate and luck and any other supernatural thing I could think of) If only I could get published... And now I am. And I've got an unspeakably wonderful agent, a complete dream editor, the best readers ever, and I get to do this full-time, at least for a while. How wonderful is that? Sometimes I still have to stop and take a minute to absorb the fact that it's really, really real. I hope I always will.
2) Finbar Finley Finbarsson the Third. Needs no explanation, really. I mean, just look at him!
3) My online YA community. The people that I've met online - mostly on Twitter - have been an absolute Godsend to me. You may remember my Insecurity: I Haz It post, where I talked about how lonely and isolated I had felt in the past as a writer in my small, rural community. Family and friends tried to be supportive but the simple fact is that calling your sister or friend at work at three in the afternoon to say: '3k today, wahooo!' is likely to get a very puzzled reaction indeed. Online, that statement gets you virtual high-fives and hugs and genuinely interested questions about your WIP because the YA writing/reading community - bloggers, readers, writers both published and aspiring - GETS IT. I can't tell you how amazing it is to have a group of friends who get it. I love you guys!
4) My writing group. We've been around in one form or another since about 2002, but in 2004 the lovely Barbara decided to give us a name, The Furtive Scribblers, and we've never looked back. Most of my very best ideas for stories and situations and characters have evolved from the convoluted, tangenital discussions I have with my writing group that start out about unicorns as a mythological representation of innocence and end up with psychosomatic injuries. That this bunch of learned, educated, well-travelled, well-read individuals all gather together on a regular basis to, basically, talk crazy - and that it really works! - is a wonder and a joy to me.
5) Clouds and water. I'm so lucky to have access to wild green spaces in my day to day life. When I'm frustrated, sad, blocked or just restless, a long walk among the sighing grasses, looking at the clouds and the reflections in the water, eases my soul like nothing else ever has.
6) Books. Books, books, books. Do I need to say anymore here? There are a million authors I could thank for expanding my mind, my understanding, my heart and my soul, but basically...I love books. Even the books I hate, I also love in a strange way. Books. I love you.
7) Trains. Waiting at the station, watching the other trains pass by, leaving a blurred white snapshot on the back of my eyelids of incomplete faces peering out of the windows. The muffled, melancholic sounds of the announcements over the tannoy, mentioning places and routes that seem oddly exotic even if I've been there before. Getting on my own train, watching the other passengers from the corners of my eyes and making up names and stories for them based on the fact that they wear a red tie with a blue suit or that their shopping bag has a rainbow badge on it. And then, as the train pulls away, popping my headphones in, taking out my notebook and just writing. Writing faster than I ever manage to do in real life - because being on a train, sitting still and yet travelling - isn't real life. It's unreal, and it's quiet even though it's noisy, and private even though it's in public. On Tuesday I did a three hour round trip and managed to write nearly twenty notebook pages, which translates to about 5,000 words. A normal day's work in my Writing Cave (between six to twelve hours) produces 2,000 if I'm lucky. So yeah, you bet I love trains.
8) My iPod. At the click of a finger I can conjure up any mood I wish. Need to feel sad? Wistful? Angry? Determined? Pumped and optimistic? Joyful and relaxed? I have a playlist for it, trust me. My dad, when asked what music he likes, just says: 'Ask Zoë. She has all the music'. And he's right. I do. Right here on my trusty iPod.
9) Papermate Nylon Blue Tuck nylon fibre tip pen with 1.0mm line width and blue ink. Not fancy, not expensive, but still my favourite pen in the whole wide world.
QUICK CONTEST: List Ten Things YOU Love in the comments before before midnight tonight, and one randomly chosen winner will receive a signed UK paperback copy of Shadows on the Moon. This giveaway is open internationally. I will pick the winner on Saturday and announce on Monday. Ready, steady...Go!
Tuesday, 20 September 2011
BIG SECRET PROJECT TEASER #3
Hello and Happy Wednesday, Dear Readers (whoa, a lot of capitals in that line)!
Today, as the faintly golden fingers of dawn crept through the gap in my curtains, I blinked, stretched, sighed - and experienced that sinking feeling known as 'Oh Cr*p, I've Got To Blog Today' which descends on a hapless blogger when they have completely forgotten to think of anything to talk about. This was not, I hasten to add, because I don't love you all with a deep and passionate devotion. It's because I wrote eighteen notebook pages of the first draft of Big Secret Project yesterday and that pretty much sucked my creative juices dry.
So since my lack of a witty and sparkling blog topic is really all Big Secret Project's fault, I thought it was only fair that Big Secret Project help me out of my blogging dilemma by providing an intriguing snippet. As always, since I'm still working on this book and it has not been sold or edited, everything you read in a teaser is subject to massive change or even deletion. An interesting fact about this section: the character name comes from a lovely blog reader who bid in the Authors for Japan auction. She won the right to have her namesake in this book, and if she checks the blog today, this will be her first sight of the result.
Teaser hidden there under the cut. Let me know what you think...
Today, as the faintly golden fingers of dawn crept through the gap in my curtains, I blinked, stretched, sighed - and experienced that sinking feeling known as 'Oh Cr*p, I've Got To Blog Today' which descends on a hapless blogger when they have completely forgotten to think of anything to talk about. This was not, I hasten to add, because I don't love you all with a deep and passionate devotion. It's because I wrote eighteen notebook pages of the first draft of Big Secret Project yesterday and that pretty much sucked my creative juices dry.
So since my lack of a witty and sparkling blog topic is really all Big Secret Project's fault, I thought it was only fair that Big Secret Project help me out of my blogging dilemma by providing an intriguing snippet. As always, since I'm still working on this book and it has not been sold or edited, everything you read in a teaser is subject to massive change or even deletion. An interesting fact about this section: the character name comes from a lovely blog reader who bid in the Authors for Japan auction. She won the right to have her namesake in this book, and if she checks the blog today, this will be her first sight of the result.
Teaser hidden there under the cut. Let me know what you think...
Sunday, 18 September 2011
THE RETURN
Hello, Dear Readers! I have returned from my holiday sojurn and the blog hiatus is officially over!
It seems a lot of stuff has been going on while I was away. A scandal over a well-liked agent reportedly asking a pair of respected authors to 'de-gay' their story set fire to the internet, with people either taking sides or refusing to believe any of it. I've got lots to say about this topic (as you either know, or can find out here and here), but I feel as if every possible opinion has already been explored so thoroughly that it's pointless to try and find different ways to express what has already been stated extremely well by others. So I'll just post a link to this excellent round up of the whole thing on the redoubtable Cleolinda's Blog, and say that I feel incredibly lucky to work with an agent, an editor and a publisher who have always supported me in my quest to reflect the world's real and beautiful diversity in my work.
Also, Zolah favourite and author of the fantabulous Demon's Lexicon Trilogy Sarah Rees Brennan revealed that she had been keeping secrets from us, working on a very, very, very exciting joint project with beloved YA fantasy author Justine Larbalastier, and that their book already has a cover and everything. I nearly died of squee.
Lots of other interesting things have been going on as well, but those were the ones that caught my attention the most. I have also (for those who remember what I said before I went away and perhaps were wondering) had some News about Big Secret Project - but not the sort of news I can really share, since things are still up in the air. More on that when I can.
And now - onto the holiday pictures! When looking at these you need to bear in mind that I managed to arrange to stay in a small, wooden cabin on the side of a mountain in the Lake District during the one week in the year when the entire of Cumbria was being lashed by Hurrican Katya with 70mph winds and torrential rain. So a lot of the pictures I took were unuseable because I got blown over mid click or had rain on my lense. Sometimes I didn't even dare take my camera out. But I persevered. In fact, I was so anxious to get you photos of one place that I went back a second time when the weather was a little better and tried again!
My favourite one is the second to last there - but I'm quite proud of all of these. I do love to take photos! What do you guys think?
It seems a lot of stuff has been going on while I was away. A scandal over a well-liked agent reportedly asking a pair of respected authors to 'de-gay' their story set fire to the internet, with people either taking sides or refusing to believe any of it. I've got lots to say about this topic (as you either know, or can find out here and here), but I feel as if every possible opinion has already been explored so thoroughly that it's pointless to try and find different ways to express what has already been stated extremely well by others. So I'll just post a link to this excellent round up of the whole thing on the redoubtable Cleolinda's Blog, and say that I feel incredibly lucky to work with an agent, an editor and a publisher who have always supported me in my quest to reflect the world's real and beautiful diversity in my work.
Also, Zolah favourite and author of the fantabulous Demon's Lexicon Trilogy Sarah Rees Brennan revealed that she had been keeping secrets from us, working on a very, very, very exciting joint project with beloved YA fantasy author Justine Larbalastier, and that their book already has a cover and everything. I nearly died of squee.
Lots of other interesting things have been going on as well, but those were the ones that caught my attention the most. I have also (for those who remember what I said before I went away and perhaps were wondering) had some News about Big Secret Project - but not the sort of news I can really share, since things are still up in the air. More on that when I can.
And now - onto the holiday pictures! When looking at these you need to bear in mind that I managed to arrange to stay in a small, wooden cabin on the side of a mountain in the Lake District during the one week in the year when the entire of Cumbria was being lashed by Hurrican Katya with 70mph winds and torrential rain. So a lot of the pictures I took were unuseable because I got blown over mid click or had rain on my lense. Sometimes I didn't even dare take my camera out. But I persevered. In fact, I was so anxious to get you photos of one place that I went back a second time when the weather was a little better and tried again!
My favourite one is the second to last there - but I'm quite proud of all of these. I do love to take photos! What do you guys think?
Friday, 9 September 2011
NEW HAIR! NEW HAIR!
Hello all! It's Friday (Friday, Friday!) and tomorrow I depart for my week-long, internet-free sojourn in the wilds of the Lake District. But yesterday I made an even more perilous journey. To the hair stylists!
Because, lo, these many long weeks ago, I made my faithful Dear Readers a promise. That if/when the blog reached 300 followers, I would die pink or purple streaks in my hair. I had decided to get a haircut at the same time, and asked you all to vote on what I should go for.
Just for perspective, here's a shot of me just after I got up yesterday morning, with shaggy dishevelled hair:
So after I hauled that shaggy mop down to the stylists, what DID I go for?
Because, lo, these many long weeks ago, I made my faithful Dear Readers a promise. That if/when the blog reached 300 followers, I would die pink or purple streaks in my hair. I had decided to get a haircut at the same time, and asked you all to vote on what I should go for.
Just for perspective, here's a shot of me just after I got up yesterday morning, with shaggy dishevelled hair:
So after I hauled that shaggy mop down to the stylists, what DID I go for?
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Floopy hair! A shoulder-length layered bob with a heavy fring (bangs, for you USians). I love it! It's still long enough to put back in a bun or ponytail if I want it out of the way to wash my face or whatever, but short enough that it feels loads lighter and very different. I'm told it makes me look younger, too, and there is NOTHING wrong with that.
But what about our purple streaks, you cry! You didn't chicken out, did you? No, no, my babies - your lack of faith hurts! I would never go back on a promise to you. Here are your streaks:
One on each side, like racing stripes! I had them placed under my hairline so that when I turn my head they flash through the blonde, and I can show them off by pulling the sides of my hair back or braiding it. Nice, eh?
Of course the question now is...what should I do if the blog reaches 400 followers? Suggestions in the comments! And remember - this is the last you will see of me for a week. I'll be back, with holiday snaps, on the 19th of September. Take care of yourselves, Dear Readers :)
Wednesday, 7 September 2011
WEDNESDAY FIVE #2
Yes, the middle of the week has rolled around again - and once again I have been so embroiled in work, work, work that I have failed to come up with a scintillating new topic for you. So: Random Wednesday (hey - you at the back - no booing on my blog!).
Thing the First:
Yesterday I passed 50,000 words on Big Secret Project! 51k, in actual fact. It's been a long time coming, what with the FF re-writes, so I'm chuffed and excited and very happy to be heading towards the explosive, climactic scenes. I don't want to jinx myself, but barring hideous mischance, I think I should definitely have a complete first draft by the end of the year.
Thing the Second:
I'm hoping to get Some News about Big Secret Project next week. It's all a bit complicated because the News might not be anything definite, and anyway I'm going to be in a cabin in the woods with no way to communicate with you and spotty mobile phone reception which will make it hard for anyone to talk to me. But if I do get News, I shall share it on the blog next week. If I don't say anything, take it that there was no News (this is publishing, folks - all the speed and transparency of an iceberg creeping down a mountain).
Thing the Third:
I love my agent. I adore her. I bless the day that my editor said to me, 'You know who might be a really good fit for you?' and mentioned her name for the first time (even though I had already been worshipping her from afar for a while before that, I hadn't really had the courage to approach). Nancy, you may or may not be psychic, but you definitely rock.
Thing the Fourth:
Tomorrow, I visit the hairstylists. Who knows what will happen to me in there? If something goes wrong, tell my dog I love him. I regret nothing.
Thing the Fifth:
The Shadows on the Moon book trailer has, disappointingly, stalled at just over 850 views. Now, if you think back to when it was first launched, I promised that when it reached 1000, there would be extra features on offer. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've convinced the lovely people at Walker Books to release the Director's Cut version of the trailer, which is longer and has extra exciting bits. So if, while I'm away on my internet free sojourn, you guys were to spread the word, share the trailer, and boost those viewing figures up? I might be able to celebrate my return by posting that. Get on it:
SURPRISE SIXTH THING:
The final line from Chapter Fifteen of Big Secret Project, which I wrote yesterday! Adult language warning:
Thing the First:
Yesterday I passed 50,000 words on Big Secret Project! 51k, in actual fact. It's been a long time coming, what with the FF re-writes, so I'm chuffed and excited and very happy to be heading towards the explosive, climactic scenes. I don't want to jinx myself, but barring hideous mischance, I think I should definitely have a complete first draft by the end of the year.
Thing the Second:
I'm hoping to get Some News about Big Secret Project next week. It's all a bit complicated because the News might not be anything definite, and anyway I'm going to be in a cabin in the woods with no way to communicate with you and spotty mobile phone reception which will make it hard for anyone to talk to me. But if I do get News, I shall share it on the blog next week. If I don't say anything, take it that there was no News (this is publishing, folks - all the speed and transparency of an iceberg creeping down a mountain).
Thing the Third:
I love my agent. I adore her. I bless the day that my editor said to me, 'You know who might be a really good fit for you?' and mentioned her name for the first time (even though I had already been worshipping her from afar for a while before that, I hadn't really had the courage to approach). Nancy, you may or may not be psychic, but you definitely rock.
Thing the Fourth:
Tomorrow, I visit the hairstylists. Who knows what will happen to me in there? If something goes wrong, tell my dog I love him. I regret nothing.
Thing the Fifth:
The Shadows on the Moon book trailer has, disappointingly, stalled at just over 850 views. Now, if you think back to when it was first launched, I promised that when it reached 1000, there would be extra features on offer. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've convinced the lovely people at Walker Books to release the Director's Cut version of the trailer, which is longer and has extra exciting bits. So if, while I'm away on my internet free sojourn, you guys were to spread the word, share the trailer, and boost those viewing figures up? I might be able to celebrate my return by posting that. Get on it:
SURPRISE SIXTH THING:
The final line from Chapter Fifteen of Big Secret Project, which I wrote yesterday! Adult language warning:
"Holy shit,” Hikaru whispered.
And with that, I bid you adieu! See you on Friday with new hair pictures.
Monday, 5 September 2011
A QUESTION OF WRITING
Hi Everyone! I hope you all had a fantastic weekend. I've not quite managed to get my characters talking to me again, but they are at least muttering sullenly instead of going quiet as soon as I walk in. So that's progress. Right? Right.
In other news, as some of you noticed, we hit 300 followers on Friday! Whooo! I can hardly believe it. I've made an appointment to get my hair dyed and also cut (eeep) this week. I'm not going to tell you in advance exactly what I'm going to get done, other than what you already know, which is that pink/purple streaks are involved. You'll just have to wait until Friday when I post the pictures.
Now onto some writing questions from my Dear Readers.
Firstly, this question came from Rebecca, via email:
The next question comes from Cam, via comments:
Try to imagine Zira from Daughter of the Flames being who she is, making the choices she makes, living the life she does - in a vaguely European world, with no meaningful religion, where all the people are the same race. You can't, can you? Because Zira would be a completely different person and her world would be an utterly different place without those factors.
In treating the ethnicity, religion, social status and race of your characters like an after-thought, you risk making some really worrying mistakes in terms of your depictions of diverse characters. This is because you're not seeing these people as fully rounded individuals whose personalities and decisions are a result of many factors - including their background and upbringing. You're treating their ethnicity and culture as a costume that they can shrug on over their pre-existing traits, which will add colour and interest to the story, but not influence the development of plot or character in any meaningful sense. That way lies madness. That way lies a cast of straight, white, male, able-bodied, vaguely Christian characters who react exactly the way that straight, white, male, able-bodied, vaguely Christian people do in every situation and think the way that straight, white, male, able-bodied, vaguely Christian people think - DESPITE THE FACT THAT THEIR SKIN MAY BE BROWN OR THEY MAY HAVE DISABILITIES OR LADY PARTS OR WORSHIP THE GODDESS KALLISSH OR FANCY PEOPLE OF THE SAME SEX.
If you want to create a richly textured and unique world for your characters then it needs to be an integral part of the story you're writing, not just window-dressing. The universe of the story and the ethnicity, race, social background/status and religion of the characters should be a huge factor in the way the story develops.
My advice to you on how to do this world building work is (predictably!) to look at the real world. The setting of Ruan was inspired by a documentary series on India and a Sunday afternoon programme about Lake Tanganyika in Africa. The religious tensions and the different races came from thinking about the Norman invasion of Britain in 1066 and the situation in the Middle East. Go to your local library and check out as many reference and non-fiction books as you can about different cultures and their history and read them. Read about Russian Cossacks and Indian Rajas and Bedouin Tribesmen and French Revolutionaries and British Imperialists and Chinese Scholars. Listen to world music. Watch documentaries, programmes by National Geographic, and news reports. Something will spark in your brain, and from that spark a blaze will grow. The whole world is out there and it is a fascinating place. Use it!
OK, finally we have an email from a lady who wishes to remain anonymous:
Neverending Stories
Isabel's Question (and I advise you to click on all the links within this link, too)
Lexie and Elise's Questions
Hope this is useful, everyone! I'll see you all on Wednesday.
In other news, as some of you noticed, we hit 300 followers on Friday! Whooo! I can hardly believe it. I've made an appointment to get my hair dyed and also cut (eeep) this week. I'm not going to tell you in advance exactly what I'm going to get done, other than what you already know, which is that pink/purple streaks are involved. You'll just have to wait until Friday when I post the pictures.
Now onto some writing questions from my Dear Readers.
Firstly, this question came from Rebecca, via email:
"I just wanted some advice on how to get through a really tough part in my writing. I recently started a new story and I really love the idea and how I'm going to develop the characters and relationships but I'm stuck on a part in chapter 1 that is essential to the story but not the most interesting part to write, compared with what's going to happen in the next chapter and following chapters. I keep on stopping and daydreaming about what's going to happen after I've written this part, but I can't get to it because I need to finish the first chapter first. Does this ever happen to you? How do you inspire yourself to really work through the tough parts to get to the better parts?"Aha, young grasshopper! Let me direct your attention to my post on Writer's Kryptonite where I talk about this problem and how to fix it. Namely, the scene that's boring the pants off you? It may be vital - but it's NOT vital for it to bore the pants off you. Give it a twist and find a way to make it exciting for yourself so that it stops being a slog and starts being something you're eager to work on. Your readers will also thank you!
The next question comes from Cam, via comments:
"I'm working on a fantasy, and while I'm pretty happy with the plot, I'm looking for ways to flesh out my characters' homes and cultures. I would like them to feel unique, not just mildly European. What are some good ways to do this? Is it something I should worry about later, when working on rewrites?"Other writers may feel differently about this, but I'd say that leaving the decision about your characters culture until re-writes is the WORST thing you can possibly do.
Try to imagine Zira from Daughter of the Flames being who she is, making the choices she makes, living the life she does - in a vaguely European world, with no meaningful religion, where all the people are the same race. You can't, can you? Because Zira would be a completely different person and her world would be an utterly different place without those factors.
In treating the ethnicity, religion, social status and race of your characters like an after-thought, you risk making some really worrying mistakes in terms of your depictions of diverse characters. This is because you're not seeing these people as fully rounded individuals whose personalities and decisions are a result of many factors - including their background and upbringing. You're treating their ethnicity and culture as a costume that they can shrug on over their pre-existing traits, which will add colour and interest to the story, but not influence the development of plot or character in any meaningful sense. That way lies madness. That way lies a cast of straight, white, male, able-bodied, vaguely Christian characters who react exactly the way that straight, white, male, able-bodied, vaguely Christian people do in every situation and think the way that straight, white, male, able-bodied, vaguely Christian people think - DESPITE THE FACT THAT THEIR SKIN MAY BE BROWN OR THEY MAY HAVE DISABILITIES OR LADY PARTS OR WORSHIP THE GODDESS KALLISSH OR FANCY PEOPLE OF THE SAME SEX.
If you want to create a richly textured and unique world for your characters then it needs to be an integral part of the story you're writing, not just window-dressing. The universe of the story and the ethnicity, race, social background/status and religion of the characters should be a huge factor in the way the story develops.
My advice to you on how to do this world building work is (predictably!) to look at the real world. The setting of Ruan was inspired by a documentary series on India and a Sunday afternoon programme about Lake Tanganyika in Africa. The religious tensions and the different races came from thinking about the Norman invasion of Britain in 1066 and the situation in the Middle East. Go to your local library and check out as many reference and non-fiction books as you can about different cultures and their history and read them. Read about Russian Cossacks and Indian Rajas and Bedouin Tribesmen and French Revolutionaries and British Imperialists and Chinese Scholars. Listen to world music. Watch documentaries, programmes by National Geographic, and news reports. Something will spark in your brain, and from that spark a blaze will grow. The whole world is out there and it is a fascinating place. Use it!
OK, finally we have an email from a lady who wishes to remain anonymous:
"Describing has always been my strongpoint and I've just found out that it's all I'm good at. I can never think of a full storyline and if I improvise my work gets really bad. I read lots and see so many great stories and ideas from other authors but can never think of any of my own that I have the patience and endurance to stick with. If I write, I end up stopping at the 2 pages mark just because I've run out of things to write. I don't know how to plan my work properly or sustain a story. Would you be able to help me?"Firstly - you are not alone. This sort of issue, where a writer struggles with figuring out What Happens Next and gets stumped after a few pages, must be one of the most common ones I come across. As a result (and luckily for you!) I have written maaaaany many many posts on the topic. Let me direct your attention to:
Neverending Stories
Isabel's Question (and I advise you to click on all the links within this link, too)
Lexie and Elise's Questions
Hope this is useful, everyone! I'll see you all on Wednesday.
Friday, 2 September 2011
A LETTER TO MY CHARACTERS
Dear Characters,
Exactly what are you trying to tell me?
Speak up! I can't stand all this muttering you young people do these days - in my day people spoke their minds so everyone could understand them. I can tell that there's something going on. I can hear you whispering behind my back and I'm bright enough to notice that you always fall silent when I walk in. Just what is the problem?
I mean, here we are, 70% through this wonderful story which - I fully admit! - you've helped me with in the most generous way. The plot has developed in all kinds of interesting and unexpected directions thanks to your input, and so many exciting things are going on right now. We've been looking forward to this section of the book since we first started writing it together, and I thought we'd be skipping through fields of daisies, hand-in-hand, at this point.
But suddenly you've changed.
You're dragging your feet. You keep sighing and looking over your shoulder and finding excuses to stay just where you are in this flaming scene where we've been stuck for a week. Instead of witty banter you're giving me grammatically correct dialogue with all the spark and humour of oatmeal.
I just can't tell what you're THINKING anymore.
Obviously there's something you want to share. So come on - out with it! I'm happy to listen to any concerns you've got. You want to add something? Take a few steps back and handle that last bit of action in a different way? Make time for smooching or a blazing row? Whatever you want, I'll do it!
We've been such good friends for so long. I can't cope with this silent treatment. Talk to me again, that's all I want. I know that our relationship is strong enough to survive, so long as we keep communicating.
Just stop ignoring me. Please.
Much love,
Your Worried Author
Exactly what are you trying to tell me?
Speak up! I can't stand all this muttering you young people do these days - in my day people spoke their minds so everyone could understand them. I can tell that there's something going on. I can hear you whispering behind my back and I'm bright enough to notice that you always fall silent when I walk in. Just what is the problem?
I mean, here we are, 70% through this wonderful story which - I fully admit! - you've helped me with in the most generous way. The plot has developed in all kinds of interesting and unexpected directions thanks to your input, and so many exciting things are going on right now. We've been looking forward to this section of the book since we first started writing it together, and I thought we'd be skipping through fields of daisies, hand-in-hand, at this point.
But suddenly you've changed.
You're dragging your feet. You keep sighing and looking over your shoulder and finding excuses to stay just where you are in this flaming scene where we've been stuck for a week. Instead of witty banter you're giving me grammatically correct dialogue with all the spark and humour of oatmeal.
I just can't tell what you're THINKING anymore.
Obviously there's something you want to share. So come on - out with it! I'm happy to listen to any concerns you've got. You want to add something? Take a few steps back and handle that last bit of action in a different way? Make time for smooching or a blazing row? Whatever you want, I'll do it!
We've been such good friends for so long. I can't cope with this silent treatment. Talk to me again, that's all I want. I know that our relationship is strong enough to survive, so long as we keep communicating.
Just stop ignoring me. Please.
Much love,
Your Worried Author
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