tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35912324381720048232024-03-09T00:47:00.256+00:00Tínadé - Random thoughts of an Aspiring WriterHi.
I'm an aspiring writer in the midst of writing a fantasy novel.
In this blog I hope to document the writing process somewhat, and also jot down my thoughts on other things as they occur to me.
Hopefully to be entertaining, if we're all lucky.Mad Iguanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03525071318864620709noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3591232438172004823.post-37664597531025538862011-04-07T23:44:00.000+01:002011-04-07T23:44:41.471+01:00Tardiness - and music reviewHi.<br />
Apologies for being missing; Real Life has intervened temporarily. As a result, tonight's post will be relatively short, as I need to do some of that <i>Writing</i> stuff that will hopefully one day pay the bills.<br />
<br />
I was thinking about writing a short post, and thought about how to get an interesting idea across quickly, and my mind turned - as minds do - to music. How to get an idea across properly, well and comprehensively in a very small number of words and a short amount of time is something that good pop music (using that term in its broadest sense) has always been wonderful at, in the same way as sonnets would have been the form of choice in an age without radio or TV.<br />
<br />
And a recent album illustrated that neatly for me, so I thought I'd talk about it.<br />
<br />
The album is "Build a Rocket Boys!" by Elbow, and it's a great album, every song.<br />
But there is one song in particular that encapsulates the ability of music to capture an emotion through the combination of words, delivery and the music itself, and that is "Lippy Kids". I would recommend anyone who can to listen to the album any which way you can, and have a listen to this song.<br />
<br />
Maybe you won't like it, maybe you'll love it - different things speak to different people in different ways, after all.<br />
<br />
It's a song about growing up - actually, no that's not right. It's a song about <b>being</b> grown up. It's a song about realising that the days of carefree self-confidence and the associated feelings of invulnerability are behind you, that you will never get them back.<br />
It's a sad song, but it's filled with a wonderful celebration of that feeling, something that only a person who has come through the other side of it can actually feel. With the sense that the people who are still there have no idea quite how precious that feeling actually is, and won't until it's gone.<br />
<br />
It makes me want to live my life backwards.<br />
<br />
There's one particular couplet, well it's three lines really, but the second one is repeated:<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">"Do they know those days are golden?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Build a Rocket Boys</div><div style="text-align: center;">Build a Rocket Boys!"</div><br />
It seems trite written down, I know, but if you hear it, listen to the delivery - the plaintive tone the second time around. Only music can bring that primal feeling about.<br />
<br />
Now like I said, maybe you don't feel it. Maybe hearing it, you still feel the lines are trite and meaningless.<br />
<br />
Fair enough. We all feel things differently.<br />
But I hear that line and I despair of ever creating something that will make someone feel the way that line makes me feel. But then what can you do but try harder.<br />
<br />
Because we all only have a limited time on this earth. Maybe it's up to us to make sure that <b>all </b>of those days are golden ones.<br />
Maybe we all still have time to build our own rockets.<br />
<br />
So why am I wasting time writing a blog post and not my book? Why are you wasting time reading it? Go away and Build your Rockets!<br />
<br />
Take Care!<br />
<br />
Mad Iguana.........Mad Iguanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03525071318864620709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3591232438172004823.post-51522489846179027472011-04-03T00:50:00.000+01:002011-04-03T00:50:35.485+01:00When Things Go Wrong (The Challenges / Climbing Mt Everest)Sometimes, no matter how good your story or your writing is, no matter how compelling the narrative and no matter how interesting the specific event you're retelling at any time, you mess it up.<br />
You write something, spend days - weeks, possibly - crafting immaculately-constructed sentences, ensuring that every character acts precisely according to their motivations and personality, putting words into their mouths that David Mamet or William Shakespeare would weep with envy to see and all described with words of such poetic strength that Wordsworth would swoon.<br />
<br />
And then you read it a day, a week later and realise it's all codswallop, horse-crap and balderdash.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
You've broken cardinal rules of story-telling: you've created an info-dump; you've overused metaphors; you've overused adjectives, adverbs; you've overused ANYTHING; your dialogue now looks stilted and forced; people are reacting to what you <b>imagined</b> you wrote and not what you actually wrote.<br />
<br />
In short, you read it and wonder how the hell you ever thought you could be capable of this incredibly tricky act of creation.<br />
What <b>were</b> you thinking, you useless creature?<br />
<br />
Of course, the truth - as is often the case - lies somewhere in between. Your work is neither as bad as you thought on your worst day, nor as great as you thought on your best.<br />
And there is always something salvageable.<br />
<br />
But it is quite difficult to tell yourself that on the days when the doubts come calling, when you realise that your characters are wooden and badly-drawn, that the chapter on which your entire story hangs is filled with out-of-character ranting (or at least, it <i>would </i>be out of character if the person doing the ranting <i>had</i> any character).<br />
The thing is, however, that nothing is unsalvageable. The likelihood is that the terrible chapter still has some good bits in it.<br />
<br />
The likelihood is that you know exactly what your characters are like; you just need to re-draw them a little so that they are brought out for the audience. Give them something to <b>do</b> to prove that they are who they should be.<br />
OK, that won't always be the case, but whether it is or not, you know.<br />
<br />
So when the doubts come, what do you do? Throw it all away and say "I can't do this"?<br />
You can't though; it's what you <b>are</b>. You do what has to be done; you're a writer, and it's in the job description.<br />
You write.<br />
And write, and write and write.<br />
And then go back and re-read it and if it doesn't work, you do it all over again.<br />
<br />
It's not easy; it's soul-destroying to have to trash work that took you weeks to create, but if it's actual Trash, then that's what you have to do.<br />
And start again and keep going.<br />
<br />
In the book "Into Thin Air" (excellent book, by the way), Jo(h?)n Krakauer describes the "Dead Zone" as you approach the summit of Mount Everest. Because of the lack of oxygen, your body can't process food or nutrients of any sort, so it begins to break down its own muscle and organs to feed itself.<br />
The brain can't function properly and it is practically impossible to perform any acts of rational thought.<br />
Instead, it is the only thing that a climber's feet can do to <b>Keep On Walking</b>. Keep putting one foot in front of another until you get to the top, then turn around and do it in the other direction.<br />
<br />
If you do that, if you keep putting one foot in front of the other, even if you can't really see the top of Mount Everest; even if you don't really know what you're doing; even if your body is devouring itself as you climb; if you keep doing it, then you'll make it to the top of the world and - hopefully - back again.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Hopefully as a metaphor it's not too laboured, but I like it, and it keeps me going when I don't know where the hell I am or why I bother.<br />
<br />
Take Care!<br />
<br />
Mad Iguana......Mad Iguanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03525071318864620709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3591232438172004823.post-81348195087074533352011-03-29T23:02:00.004+01:002011-03-29T23:03:59.907+01:00The Writing Process continuedHi there,<br />
<br />
The Faerie story will continue another day...<br />
<br />
For now, I want to continue on the story of my writing process / progress and how I've got to where I am with my writing. The first part of it is <a href="http://tinade.blogspot.com/2011/03/writing-process.html">here</a><br />
<br />
The phase of unemployment and almost daily writing didn't last (thankfully for my financial situation), and the book ended up being put in mothballs for a while.<br />
<br />
I had made it to what was then Chapter 8 of the book in a pretty creative few months, given that I was starting from a position of not knowing how to write for a prolonged period. Once I got over the initial "hump" of realising that the writing just had to continue, no matter what, it was just a matter of ploughing onwards, learning more about my own story and how to create chaaracters, events, storylines, places - a believable world with all of the geography, morality, laws and religion that entails.<br />
<br />
On a tangent, that is one thing that is so much more challenging for a Fantasy author than for an <br />
<a name='more'></a>author who writes fiction set in the "real" world; while it is liberating to not be constrained by geography, religion, history, biology or the lack of magic etc., it means that you have to create every mountain, every river, every village in your world. You need to invent a Creation mythology, a history of conflicts, set out the evolution of society, hierarchy of various classes and social strata, the laws of the land(s) you create, the rules that govern the use of magic.... The list goes on.<br />
<br />
Whilst it is really nice to give your imagination free rein, it does impose its own constraints - it is easy to become too inventive and write yourself into a corner from which there is no escape!! It is easy to invent a law or rule or geographical feature that gets you out of a particular hole at that moment, but at some stage in the future will create nothing but trouble...<br />
<br />
But anyway, I was working through all of these issues while I was out of work, and once I returned to work, it all kind of became irrelevant and I put the book to one side.<br />
Over the next 4 years, I wrote another 4 chapters, mainly because my wife wanted to know what happened next. I was never enthused about it, because I didn't really think it was ever going to be good enough to be published, and I didn't want to spend my time doing that when I had a lot of other things to do and look after.<br />
<br />
So it was that there was another few years when nothing was written at all, until my daughter was born last year.<br />
<br />
Now, you'd think that having a daughter would <b>increase</b> the amount of things I had to do, and reduce my free time to write, and you'd be right. Didn't stop me re-starting with a vengeance and a fierce determination to get it all out.<br />
My wife made a very salient point to me, and it was this:<br />
If you have a story inside you, and you want to tell it, it is the telling that matters. Even if it never gets published, you'll have something you can hand to your daughter, and say: "This was me; I was here, and I created something."<br />
<br />
In the world today, there are very few people whose jobs allow them to actually create anything lasting; most of us work in service industries, or manufacturing temporary consumable items, or maintaining websites or things like that.<br />
Even people who build lasting things, like buildings or motorways, are anonymous to the rest of the world, regardless of how great their creations are. And let's be honest, very few of those buildings have the iconic, everlasting nature of something like th Taj Mahal or Stonehenge or even something more modern like the Sydney Opera House.<br />
So the only place where we can create something that leaves a lasting mark on the world - however small and, in the greater scheme of things, insignificant it might be - is to use our skills to create some sort of art. Whether High Art, or Low Art or Rubbish Art, if we have the desire and the ability to create something lasting, we should do it.<br />
<br />
My mind has been exercised a lot about mortality since my daughter was born, and I know that, as things stand, I will have left nothing behind me when I die. I'll hopefully have made some people happy, hopefully made those parts of the world I've touched slightly better, or at the very least not made them worse.<br />
I'll have a daughter and (hopefully) another child to leave behind, and they are a legacy that any parent would be proud of. But as things stand, I'll have left nothing tangible and eternal behind.<br />
<br />
That is why I started to write again: to have a legacy, both for my own benefit and for my daughter.<br />
It's changed slightly now, as my ambitions have lifted a bit; I don't just want to leave something behind; as I stated yesterday, I want other people to read it too!<br />
<br />
It's ambitious, but it's a goal. To have passed on this story will be a beautiful thing to have done. And hopefully there will be people who will enjoy it.<br />
<br />
In the last 7 months I've written another 3 chapters in Book 1; 15 chapters in Book 2, then returned to Book 1 and added - so far - 7 more chapters.<br />
In total, I now have 185,000 words written across two books of the three that my story will encompass, about 75% of which was written since the end of August last year.<br />
<br />
At this rate, I might have it finished by the end of 2011.<br />
And once I am, I'll have the manuscript to - if nothing else - say "This was me; I was here, and I created something." <br />
Wish me luck.<br />
<br />
Take Care!<br />
<br />
Mad Iguana.......Mad Iguanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03525071318864620709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3591232438172004823.post-52775986842031159042011-03-29T00:16:00.001+01:002011-03-29T22:34:03.186+01:00Writing and online reviewsGood (late) night all!<br />
<br />
I was on my way to bed, and decided at the last minute to post this, in response to the minor kerfuffle going on at a reviews blog nearby.<br />
There are a couple of reasons why I made that decision, chief amongst them the realisation that I don't want this blog to become a place where I just type out stuff that I wrote 14 years ago that probably isn't very good anyway.<br />
Instead, it's supposed to be about writing, and my opinions on it - whether they're right or wrong.<br />
<br />
So here it is.<br />
<br />
To give the background to this post, a certain writer has independently (I assume) written and published a novel which was reviewed by an online blog at <a href="http://booksandpals.blogspot.com/2011/03/greek-seaman-jacqueline-howett.html">this link</a>. She decided it wasn't a very flattering review, although it featured a combination of major/minor criticisms as well as some reasonable praise.<br />
As a result, she entered into a very public correspondence with him that may or may not have been terribly wise.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
I'm not going to any more about the detail here, nor will I spend any time criticising the author or the blogger specifically, as plenty of other commenters on the blog have already done that. That's not the point here.<br />
Instead, I just want to put forward my own thoughts on the general situation.<br />
<br />
As someone who is in the middle of writing a novel, it is a long and time-consuming process. I am depriving myself of (some) sleep, operating at less-than-optimal effectiveness in the rest of my life and generally sacrificing many things - as are my wife and family - to get these crazy obsessive thoughts out of my head and onto a page somewhere, purely and simply so that random strangers I've never met and never will meet will one day read those words and imagine the pictures and events they describe.<br />
<br />
{Reading it back, how nuts is that? Why??}<br />
<br />
I'm not doing it for self-validation (although the warm feeling of writing a well-constructed sentence is nice).<br />
I'm not doing it for praise (although any and all praise is welcome).<br />
I'm not doing it for money or sales or fame (although those yachts in the Caribbean don't buy themselves).<br />
I'm doing it because I have this <i>story</i> and it wants to get out and be read.<br />
<br />
Because of this, I dream of the day that someone reads my book out of a desire to read it, not out of a sense of obligation or duty (even if they end up enjoying it).<br />
<br />
The reviewer in question is an amateur (in the sense of not doing it for a living - I'm sure he's very good at it, though I've only read this one review yet), and wasn't forced to read the book because it was his job.<br />
He started the book because he wanted to review it and kept reading it because there was something in it that made the reading worthwhile. He finished the book, and that in itself is praise.<br />
<br />
To be honest, that's the only praise I can imagine having at this stage in my writing "career".<br />
<br />
Someone turning around and saying to me - I started your book, I read it... and then I finished it.<br />
<br />
Wow.<br />
<br />
My book - my writing- was worth reading all the way through?<br />
Wow!<br />
<br />
The thing is that writers are blessed - and cursed, but that's another post - with the ability to take thoughts - stories - and put them down onto a page. Some are better at it than others, some are successful because they pick the right stories and some are not even though they do too.<br />
<br />
But we shouldn't lose sight of the primacy of the central part of the whole thing - the reader / story interface. The act of reading and the process by which a reader picks up that book and lets the words seep into their brain.<br />
Everything else is decoration and an irrelevance.<br />
<br />
<br />
That's why we do it.<br />
<br />
And every time a person puts down a book after finishing the final page is a victory.<br />
<br />
That's what we're dreaming about, isn't it? If you want to be a writer for any other reason than that, then you're doing it wrong.<br />
<br />
So even a bad review is a victory, because at least they read it.<br />
Unless they didn't, of course, but then that's a whole other type of bad review.<br />
<br />
Take care!<br />
<br />
Mad Iguana.......Mad Iguanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03525071318864620709noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3591232438172004823.post-83597875632209468862011-03-28T22:39:00.001+01:002011-03-29T22:34:43.796+01:00A Strange Fickle Thing (Pt 2)<i>The continuation of my little story - written on 8th September 1997. It's a lot longer than I thought it was... What have I gotten myself into??</i><br />
<br />
So, the last of the faeries - four there were, old, wise and mighty in the ancient lore of magick: Grimkin, the most ancient of all, who was old before the arrival of the new forest and of man; Elmheal, who would converse with the trees for news beyond the city, until time and sorrow wore him out; Bayswife, the wise matriarch whose smile - oft seen - would cause the grass to grow as if sunshine and rain were unnecessary; and Palmbark, whose sad grey eyes made the trees weep, and whose youthful golden hair caused the birds to sing to her beauty - came together to discuss this: man's "love".<br />
<br />
Now other faeries lived still in man's park, but these - sadly too numerous to name, although the once-great Leafblade and Thistlemaid were amongst them - were beyond the reach of the other faeries. Many had begun to partake of the leaf that did intoxicate them into incapacity, and some had given <br />
<a name='more'></a>their spirits over to beasts that did but sit in the trees, and ate not but of that leaf.<br />
<br />
Others had become one with the water, or with the earth, or with their beloved trees and flowers.<br />
So, four there were only, and these came together, and to the others Bayswife spoke:<br />
<br />
"Many years have I dwelt in theis, our forest that is now called a "park" by man, and never before have I heard this thing called "love" uttered. Know ye what it is?"<br />
<br />
Grimkin: "I have seen that which you describe: the intertwining of hands, and the touching of lips and the touching of face and hair, and have also wondered at it. This must be love."<br />
<br />
Elmheal: "I have heard the word at times, uttered by man unto man, and have seen both a feeling of truth and of untruth in the hearts of those who say it. I have tried to fathom its meaning, and yet cannot see what it means, for I cannot comprehend the mind of man. They are not as trees are: simple, proud, unchanging.<br />
"Betimes I have seen love spoken by a couple unto a child, betimes unto another of a different gender. Betimes speak they of love to one at one time and to another at a time distant by less than a moon.<br />
"A strange, fickle thing is man, and a strange, fickle thing is his love."<br />
<br />
All nodded at Elmheal's wide words, and naught was said for a long time, before Palmbark, in a voice as sweet as the song of a brook, spoke:<br />
"I would like to know this "love", fickle or no, for it seems to be the secret of man's contentment. Perchance we, too, can be joyful once more, if love were found for the faeries."<br />
<br />
And so it was decided that Palmbark would be sent into man's stoneglass forest to seek out the thing man called "love".<br />
<br />
<i>And we shall return another day...</i><br />
<br />
Take Care!<br />
<br />
<i> </i>Mad Iguana......Mad Iguanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03525071318864620709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3591232438172004823.post-16441610634137859812011-03-27T03:16:00.001+01:002011-03-29T22:34:58.931+01:00A Strange Fickle Thing (Pt 1)This is a story I wrote many years ago, and I've just discovered it in some old journals. I haven't even read it in 10 years so it could be rubbish.<br />
I'm going to type it exactly as I found it, unedited, unexpurgated, unchanged; any spelling or grammatical errors will probably be retained, unless they're really embarrassing.<br />
<br />
So apologies in advance for split infinitives, incorrect punctuation, misspellings and general being-rubbishness. This was written in one or two days nearly 14 years ago and was never edited - this is the first time the manual writing has been transcribed.<br />
<br />
It could be rubbish, it could be great. (My money's on the former). Depending on which, I may give up writing entirely, or just realise that i was better then than I am now, or possibly I may prove that you truly do get better with time.<br />
<br />
It is going to take much more than one entry to complete, but what the hell. You've got to expose your arse to someone at some point.<br />
<br />
<b>A Strange Fickle Thing (Pt 1)</b><br />
<br />
The forest was old and it was green, and it was filled with many old green trees, and the faeries lived there.<br />
<br />
None could remember how old the forest was, nor the trees, but the trees and the grass and the faeries were content.<br />
<br />
Time passed for the forest of green trees, and man came along, and replaced some of it with his own; new stone-glass trees for the old wood-leaves trees. But not all the forest was destroyed; some was left to remind man of what he had conquered.<br />
And man called it a Park.<br />
<br />
And the faeries lived there.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
Each day, people would come to the park and they would walk and talk and play. They would look on the green trees and the green grass and the brown earth and the blue sky and they would sigh and they would say:<br />
"How lucky are we to have such a place, where we can come and sit and walk and see nature in all its wonder and glory!"<br />
<br />
The people would wander on then, and feed the birds who came daily for the bread that was thrown, and they would sit by the fountains and the lakes and the flower-beds, and they would hold close to themselves the ones they loved; and they lived in the stoneglass forest outside, and they were content.<br />
<br />
The faeries watched this, and wondered at the people's contentment. And they said:<br />
"How can people such as these be happy in this place? They do not run across the tree-branches, nor sing to the water, nor fly through the leaves; nor do they speak to the flowers nor dance unclothed beneath the starlight. How can joy come to them?"<br />
And still the faeries wondered.<br />
<br />
Time passed, and the faeries dwindled, for seldom did children come to that race, and all their ancient magick could not prolong their lives in the midst of the stoneglass forest, with the suns that shone in the night, and the stars that flew in the day.<br />
But of people there were always more. And they came still to the park and looked deep into the lakes and the fountains, and tightly squeezed one another's hands, and said, one to the other:<br />
"Is it not bliss that we should be together in this place of beauty? For all that we have in the city beyond here is as nothing compared to the love we share, and share it here we can in peace and joy."<br />
<br />
And the faeries heard this, and wondered no more, for the sight of love was the answer they sought.<br />
<br />
<i>Come back another time for the next installment!</i>Mad Iguanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03525071318864620709noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3591232438172004823.post-29421489278713484472011-03-25T22:25:00.001+00:002011-03-29T22:35:12.753+01:00The Writing Process<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">So, I've mentioned the subject of my Book and talked a little about various other topics, but what about the writing process itself?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Well, the underlying idea for this Book was born many years ago when I was bored in an old job. I began thinking about an origin story for a fantasy world and began to write it.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">That story led to a thought about how the origin story might impact on the "Present Day" in that world, and various ideas and themes came to my mind.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Being Irish, and the conflict in Northern Ireland being unresolved at that time (yes it was that long ago), religious conflict came to mind. My star sign (Gemini) made me think about twins and things started to come together.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">However, I didn't get far with the actual story - several false starts left me with a couple of Chapter 1s and Chapter 2s that owed far too much to the exposition in the Lord of the Rings' "Shadow in the Dark" chapter, so I ended up abandoning much of it.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I returned a few more times over the next 5 years or so, restarting and then abandoning different approaches, trying to play with narrative devices such as telling the story from a first-person perspective but each chapter having a different voice, our just rewriting the whole story again.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">It was never satisfactory, and worst of all, Chapter1 was always awful.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Then I got made redundant from a job and found myself with time to kill.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I used to go to a cage in the court and sit down with my laptop and bash out words until something worked. I hit upon an opening scene that I really liked - an old mam trudging wearily through snow to meet his friends in an inn, where the troubles if the world would be discussed.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">And largely, that scene is still intact.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">But the main decision I made during this process was: <b>keep writing!!</b> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I had been paralysed on occasions in the past - had spent so long re-reading and re-writing chapters that I had never got past the first couple and then got disillusioned when they weren't perfect.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">What I hadn't realised was that there was one key ingredient missing: <b>Practice</b></span>.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So when I had that opportunity I used it to practice. And that meant writing from the start and continuing until I got to the next scene and the next and the next.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Of course, that doesn't mean I didn't rewrite, but I didn't allow myself to get stuck.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And that meant that I got better.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">With writing, as with everything else in life, practice is the key.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Whether your thing is to write, or to knit or to play football or guitar or anything, you don't get better by watching your keyboard, your knitting needles, your football or your guitar. You get better by using them.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And now, several hundred thousand words, innumerable drafts of various versions of my story, abandoned concepts, stylistic flourishes and idiotic diversions later, I feel like I'm now approaching the possibility that I might be able to start producing the story that's in my head.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I'll come back over the weekend to talk about something different. Not sure what yet, but it'll be fascinating, I'm sure. Until then,</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Take care!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Mad Iguana...........</div>Mad Iguanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03525071318864620709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3591232438172004823.post-51742496244096537032011-03-24T00:06:00.001+00:002011-03-29T22:35:26.038+01:00Boundaries of AcceptabilityHi again,<br />
<br />
This will be a quick post, since I've been doing a bit of editing of my writing tonight, and it's late so I really ought to go to bed.<br />
<br />
But I wanted to comment quickly on the concept of what's acceptable and what isn't in a book - as a writer.<br />
<br />
And by that I mean that something happens in a book which is abhorrent or just deeply unpleasant, but it is something that you have to write, describe, imagine and - in a sense - savour. You need to be able to feel the texture of the thing, imagine the feeling of the perpetrator as well as the horror of the victim (assuming of course that it is something that has both a perpetrator and a victim, but stay with me on this).<br />
<br />
It occurred to me when I was thinking about a particularly distasteful event (which I've decided to remove from my book for entirely different reasons) that happened "offscreen" as it were. It was never <br />
<a name='more'></a>described graphically, but it was there and in order to write that it happened, you have to imagine it and everyone's reaction to it.<br />
As I said, I've decided to remove that event for character reasons, but the general theory is that it is still a weird circumstance to put yourself in.<br />
<br />
Obviously if it is a part of the plot and is true to the characters, the event has to be described - and I've done this before in short stories, and to a small extent in the book so far - but how far can an author go in describing it without crossing into an area where it becomes gratuitous?<br />
<br />
I think it's easier to do it <b>and not care </b>if you know you have a wide audience of people you don't know who will read it. If you are writing for yourself and people you know, there's always the chance that they'll look at you different afterwards, wondering if you're a psychopath or a deviant.<br />
<br />
I'm not sure if this is a particularly coherent post, and I know that the idea is only partly formed, but it popped into my head, so I thought I'd put it out there.<br />
<br />
Take Care,<br />
<br />
Mad Iguana.......Mad Iguanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03525071318864620709noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3591232438172004823.post-33323281287229770752011-03-22T19:24:00.001+00:002011-03-29T22:35:40.444+01:00So, what's the story?Hello again<br />
<br />
Since this is, ostensibly, a writing blog related to my writing process, I should probably give you an idea of what it is that I am writing.<br />
I'm in the process of writing a fantasy book which is going to be split into three parts. Or a fantasy story which is going to be spread across three books; I'm not sure which (and that will be a topic in a later blog post), although I know where the two clear "inflection points" are.<br />
<br />
In any case, from now on I'll refer to it as "the book".<br />
<br />
The book is set in a land called Tínadé, which is ruled as a theocracy. The Laws are enforced by monks - who are sort of like the police (not The Police; they're not a white ska-reggae-funk combo with a tantric-sex practicing lead singer/bassist, although I'd imagine they are alike in that they all hate the drummer :-)) - and priests - who are more threatening and dangerous, and, as the book begins, are the only people who can use magic.<br />
<br />
This set-up is the result of a Great War fought centuries ago between two races of men (in this world, there are only humans - no elves or dwarves or ogres or other fantasy races), and the victors have enforced their particular doctrine ever since.<br />
<br />
In the aftermath of the war, the victorious race hunted down the remnants of the losing side, and there are now very few of them left.<br />
There are various traits that are used by the monks to identify members of the other race, and once identified, these people are punished; one of the key traits is that only the losing race is physically able to give birth to twins.<br />
<br />
It begins - and the majority of Part 1 is set - in a small village far to the south of Tínadé, where one <br />
<a name='more'></a>family find themselves drawn into the remnants of this conflict due to matters beyond their control.<br />
<br />
As the book opens, a harsh winter is setting in, and a woman is pregnant...<br />
<br />
The intention is that the plot, the history (and various sides' interpretations of what truly happened) will be revealed gradually through the book.<br />
I've taken the idea that "history is written by the winner" and its logical counterpoint - that the loser will have a different version that is simply not written down - and added to that the knowledge that the true history lies somewhere in between, with plenty of subtleties that are ignored by both sides, and I'm trying to challenge the reader's conception of what they think they know at a few key points of the story.<br />
<br />
I don't want to say too much more on the story, since I'd hope that the beauty of the book (if it has any) comes from its gradual unfolding of the plot. Since none of the characters have more information than that at the outset, that is the information that the reader has too.<br />
<br />
In a later blog post, I'll talk about the challenge of writing a fantasy novel and the idea about whether it's a single novel in three parts or a story written across three books.<br />
<br />
Take care,<br />
<br />
Mad Iguana......Mad Iguanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03525071318864620709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3591232438172004823.post-11672637268130605682011-03-20T23:12:00.002+00:002011-03-29T22:35:54.451+01:00The Illusion of ControlHi again.<br />
<br />
I was going to put out a post this evening to describe where the stage I've reached in my writing and maybe explain my plans for now and the future, to give you an idea of the kind of book it is and maybe sort out in my own head when I might expect to be finished.<br />
<br />
But life intervened a little, and I had some thoughts that I wanted to share instead, so I hope you don't mind.<br />
<br />
I have a daughter, and she's a little over a year old. Cute as a button, etc., but all parents say that.<br />
Anyway, I've noticed that she - and I would imagine kids in general, especially at that age - give you an illusion of control.<br />
<br />
It feels like you know what happens if you do A, and what doesn't if you do B, and most of the time, it does.<br />
If we feed her at 630, give her a bottle of milk at 730, she'll be asleep around 8 and that'll be that. And most nights it is.<br />
But tonight she was out of sorts for some reason, and wouldn't sleep. We tried for about an hour and a half, but every time the lights went out, she began to cry and yell at the top of her lungs. So we <br />
<a name='more'></a>brought her downstairs and after some more milk and - ironically, I thought - about 20 minutes of Monsters Inc, she was happy to go up to bed and settled.<br />
<br />
The same thing happens all the time: in work; in adult relationships; in computer programming; probably in every walk of life and at every possible moment.<br />
<i>The illusion of control.</i><br />
You think that you're in control, simply because it seems that if you follow the right pattern, the things you want will happen.<br />
<br />
It occurred to me that there's a similar illusion when you're writing. Even though you created the characters, and you know where you want the story to go, sometimes you're writing and the character does something you didn't expect.<br />
They say something, or do something instinctively that wasn't <b>in the plan</b> and you're forced to carry the narrative in another direction.<br />
It's seldom a huge change, but it's often a change nonetheless.<br />
<br />
And, as with a baby or work or any other time when the illusion of control is shattered, it's usually right too.<br />
The character is simply doing what is right for them, being true to themselves, and sometimes the very best moments flow out of that.<br />
<br />
So, I've learned to roll with it - it's easier in a novel when the worst that happens is that you need to play around a bit with the next few scenes of plot, or introduce a deus ex machina to get things back on track (oh, we've all done it!).<br />
It's not so easy in life when it's late on a Sunday evening, you've got work tomorrow and the baby won't go to sleep.<br />
Still, Monsters Inc is a cracking film!! <br />
<br />
Take care!<br />
<br />
Mad Iguana............Mad Iguanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03525071318864620709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3591232438172004823.post-61775377034722760302011-03-20T17:59:00.002+00:002011-03-20T18:06:30.698+00:00New Blog for a New WriterHi,<br />
Welcome to my blog.<br />
I'll start off by introducing myself and my blog, and later tonight I'll put up the first entry of the blog proper.<br />
<br />
I'm an aspiring author, who is in the process of writing a "fantasy" novel, or series of novels. I'm not really sure which, which will be a topic of a later blogpost I'm sure.<br />
I'll go by my internet name here, which is Mad Iguana for reasons that are (practically) lost in the ethers of time.<br />
<br />
In any case, I'll go into a bit more detail about the book at a later date, but as things stand, it is intended to be a novel in three parts / three books / whichever, trying to explore themes of truth, faith, honour, loyalty etc. whilst still (hopefully) being an entertaining read.<br />
In this blog, I hope to do a few things - keep anyone who is interested updated on the progress of the novel, make a few observations about the writing process, and maybe just jot down random thoughts about my other interests: music, technology, family - whatever comes to mind I guess.<br />
<br />
If anyone wonders about the blog title, <b>Tínadé </b>is the name of the world in which my novels will be set, so it seemed appropriate. And it was available, which is the most important part!<br />
<br />
So, I'll post later with something more formulaic, and we'll see how it goes!!<br />
<br />
Take care!<br />
<br />
Mad Iguana............Mad Iguanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03525071318864620709noreply@blogger.com0