Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Mark Twain's Rules of Writing

Everything a writer should know can be found in Mark Twain's Rules of Writing. In honor of the author's birthday this month, I present them here:

1. A tale shall accomplish something and arrive somewhere.

2. The episodes of a tale shall be necessary parts of the tale, and shall help develop it.

3. The personages in a tale shall be alive, except in the case of corpses, and that always the reader shall be able to tell the corpses from the others.

4. The personages in a tale, both dead and alive, shall exhibit a sufficient excuse for being there.

5. When the personages of a tale deal in conversation, the talk shall sound like human talk, and be talk such as human beings would be likely to talk in the given circumstances, and have a discoverable meaning, also a discoverable purpose, and a show of relevancy, and remain in the neighborhood of the subject in hand, and be interesting to the reader, and help out the tale, and stop when the people cannot think of anything more to say.

6. When the author describes the character of a personage in his tale, the conduct and conversation of that personage shall justify said description.

7. When a personage talks like an illustrated, gilt-edged, tree-calf, hand-tooled, seven-dollar Friendship's Offering in the beginning of a paragraph, he shall not talk like a Negro minstrel at the end of it.

8. Crass stupidities shall not be played upon the reader by either the author or the people in the tale.

9. The personages of a tale shall confine themselves to possibilities and let miracles alone; or, if they venture a miracle, the author must so plausibly set it forth as to make it look possible and reasonable.

10. The author shall make the reader feel a deep interest in the personages of his tale and their fate; and that he shall make the reader love the good people in the tale and hate the bad ones.

11. The characters in tale be so clearly defined that the reader can tell beforehand what each will do in a given emergency.

Also, the author should:

Say what he is proposing to say, not merely come near it.
Use the right word, not its second cousin.
Eschew surplusage.
Not omit necessary details.
Avoid slovenliness of form.
Use good grammar.
Employ a simple, straightforward style.

Sunday, October 27, 2013

What's So Scary About...?

I've got an inkling of an idea for a novel that involves some kind of horrific or disturbing element. So that's led me to think about what I find scary. Or, as a place to begin, what I don't find scary.

Vampires. Werewolves. Zombies. Any of your run-of-the-mill monsters I find tedious and dull. Even with all the re-imagining these "classics" have received in recent years, predictability runs amok. Not to mention, as soon as something becomes popular, it looses its edge.

I also don't find the standard slasher-flicks particularly scary. Having the characters make stupid choices for the sake of creating suspense and the endless teasing toward the inevitable gory, violent end is far more annoying than scare inducing. Films like Saw and Hostel and other torture-porn are much more effective in creating shocking, disturbing images that stick in the craw of your memory long after viewing them. (Not to be confused with that delicious creepy feeling you get from a good M. Night Shyamalan movie.)

That's what it really comes down to for me - a story or film's lingering factor; how disturbing was it that I'm prompted to look twice into a dark corner for fear of what may be hiding there, or how easily do I jump at a sound from the shadows when I'm out walking the dog?

So, then, what is the impetus for such a reaction?

For me, it is the reality of such a horror; the likelihood of something terrible. If I hear a stirring in the darkness, the first thought that comes to mind isn't something as ridiculous as a zombie, but rather, a psychopath with a crowbar. An episode of Criminal Minds has a greater fear-factor to me than, say, Paranormal Activity 3. It's been fifteen years since I've read Ellis's American Psycho and there are still passages I can't forget. Why? Because serial killers are real. (Slasher characters like Michael Myers or Jason don't count; they're too cartoonish.) Women and children being abducted; people being brutally murdered in their homes; someone shooting up a school or coffee shop or movie theater - these are all too common horrors in our daily life.

It's this connection to real fears that makes the work of authors like Edgar Allen Poe and Stephen King so effective. My own leanings toward claustrophobia prevent me from wanting to read Poe's Premature Burial again. And who'd have thought clowns were scary. King did. (In Joss Whedon and Drew Goddard's brilliant The Cabin in the Woods, of all its monsters and demons, the one moment that sticks most with me is the image of a clown laughing while it stabs someone to death.)

I guess what scares me, then, is the all too real inhumanity, the common disregard for life, that has become such an integral part of our culture - even generated by our culture, as American Psycho implies.

Okay, now that I've answered that question for myself, am I ready to venture into the darkest recesses of my imagination?

Mmmm...perhaps one more visit to the happy place of Star's Hollow and the Gilmore Girls first.




Sunday, September 8, 2013

Writer's Block?

I don't get the whole "writer's block" thing. I mean, I understand this concept that a writer's creativity can go through ebbs and flows, but it's often referred to as though it were some kind of affliction. Someone asked me the other day how my writing was going, and I answered, "Slowly," because, well, I tend to write slowly, with lots of revisions as I go. His response was, "Oh, writer's block, huh?"

"No, it's not writer's block," I snapped back, like Arnold Schwarzenegger in Kindergarten Cop when one of the students tells him he has a brain tumor because he complained of a headache. ("It's not a tumor!")

In his book On Writing Well William Zinsser explains the process of writing as nothing more than problem solving. He refers specifically to non-fiction, but the same applies to fiction. How should the story unfold - linear or non-linear; chronologically or through a series of flashbacks or both? What's the best way to express a particular idea - through narrative, action, or dialogue? What's the best path of events from point A to point B? What word(s) works best to say what I want to say? What the heck is the story about? The "problems" go on and on.

My biggest challenge comes in the form of transitions. Before I start physically writing, I have outlined the beginning, middle and end, as well as key scenes of my novel's plot. The "transitions" are everything in between - exposition, character development, settings - and I strive to make them as smooth and seamless as possible. I don't like clunky writing.

In any case, none of these problems or challenges are blockages. Rather, they are part of the method of getting all the elements to a novel - character, plot, dialogue, theme, etc. - into a coherent, cohesive form on paper (or screen, if you prefer). 

I mentioned in a previous post that I spend a good deal of time thinking about what I'm going to write before actually writing it. To non-writers this appears as though my creativity has dried up and I've been stricken with that seemingly incurable disease "writer's block." To other writers, I hope, they see it as, "Oh, he's just working out the details."

Not counting the book I'm currently working on, I've got a pretty good idea of what my next eight novels are going to be. What are all their titles, characters, plot points, and themes? I don't know, I haven't worked out the details, yet. But, in my best Austrian bodybuilder accent, I say, "It's not writer's block!"

Saturday, August 24, 2013

Writing with Tunes

I like to listen to music while I write. Not the radio, mind you, unless it's classical music on the public supported KING FM (98.1), Seattle, or KEXP (90.3) "where the music matters"; otherwise, all the banter and commercials between songs are too distracting. And, usually, the tunes I choose to play have a connection to what I'm writing; they help set a mood or tone.

In the early drafts of "Gospel...", when I was going for something with a harder edge, it was heavy-metal: Metallica, Megadeath, Godsmack, System of a Down, and especially this one compilation, Nativity in Black (Volumes I and II), where classics of Black Sabbath are covered by the likes of Biohazard, Faith No More, Type O Negative, Pantera, Slayer, and Primus. It's awesome! I highly recommend it.

But later, the tone of the book became more brooding, and I changed the musical selections similar to the pieces mentioned in the book's party scene - the adagios and Gorecki's 3rd Symphony, and lots of Tangerine Dream.

Currently, I'm working on a novel with themes of the wild west, so I've got some Willie Nelson, Dwight Yoakam, and Del Castillo often playing. A bit cliche, I guess, but it's all about adding a certain flavor to the words. 

Monday, August 12, 2013

Readarcolepsy

I have a confession to make: 

Given the choice between reading a novel and watching a movie, I choose the movie. This is because reading makes me sleepy. Two, three pages, and I'm out. It doesn't matter what time of day. (Frank Zappa admitted to the same problem in his autobiography, so I like to think I'm in good company.) Perhaps there should be a name for this condition, like readarcolepsy, or something. 

Because of this "condition," it can be quite laborious for me to get through a book, fiction or otherwise. It took me nearly a year to read Kim Stanley Robinson's Red Mars. By no means should this reflect on Robinson's fine writing; it's me, the guy who falls asleep reading the Sunday comics. And it explains why many of my favorite novels tend to be short - Fahrenheit 451, Siddartha, Notes From the UndergroundRumble Fish, Illusions - and why I'll probably never write something of "epic" stature. Don't look for something longer than 60,000 words from me anytime soon.

So, as sacrilegious as it may be, I'll take a couple of hours in a movie theater over battling with the R.E.M. inducing effects of the latest best seller.

Now, let me just read through this post again and check for editing issu--ZZZZZZZZ!  

Saturday, August 3, 2013

My Writing Process

As I mentioned earlier, I really didn't know what I was doing when I began writing my first novel. By the time I was done, I had developed a pretty good process (one that works for me, that is) which I'm applying to my current projects.

Naturally, it all begins with an idea. But exactly where these ideas originate is hard to say. They may come from the interest I have in a variety of subjects, like the wild west, silent movies, travel and the open road, or linguistics. Sometimes an idea will germinate simply by looking at a genre I find intriguing: speculative fiction, or steam-punk, or the mystery-thriller. Mostly, though, ideas come from observing the world around me - watching the news, reading periodicals, or simply taking a walk. On occasion, I'll develop an idea from nothing but a phrase or word. That's a good title for a book, I may think, or what a great opening sentence. From wherever it starts, the seed is then planted in my little brain and left to grow, often unconsciously, into a story concept.

From there, I think a lot about the plot. I like to know where the story begins, where it's going, and how it ends. This works in hand with developing the characters, though I don't always have a clear idea who they are until I actually begin physically writing; the action of the plot and how they interact with the other characters brings out details of who they are, and dialogue seems to naturally spring from there. I also do a lot of reading on subjects that I believe will contribute to the richness of the story, give it depth or a certain authenticity. 

And then starts a series of outlines, each one progressively more detailed, sort of like using a Google Earth map where you zoom in closer and closer for a better look at where you're going. This technique might be criticized for creating a story that is too plotted, sterile, predictable, or contrived. But as I begin typing the first draft, I get a better perspective on the best way to communicate what is happening and take steps to make sure it doesn't seem forced.

The creation of the first draft is a slow, meticulous task for me because I edit and revise as I go; I can't just spew words onto a page and then go back and sort it all out. The OCD in me insists that every word, sentence and paragraph be just-so before I can move on to the next. While this is painstaking and time consuming, it makes for a nearly finished manuscript that requires little rewriting.

Still, I rewrite, making all kinds of tweaks and changes to bring all the details into something cohesive and readable; for me, it takes a lot of effort to create prose, dialogue and plot that appears effortless. This rewriting happens after I have two or three people give it a read and make critical notes.

What I give little or no consideration to are the elements of motifs and themes. This is what I enjoy most about writing: seeing what emerges once I've got all the pieces of the puzzle in place. For instance, the parallel drawn between animals caged in a zoo and humans confined within a quarantined environment behaving unnaturally in "Gospel..." came about entirely on its own; I did not consciously put it there, and yet, it's become, I believe, one of the book's defining themes.    

So, how do I know when a book is done? When I can't add or take anything more from it, I guess. It's done when...um, well...when it's done.  












Saturday, July 6, 2013

(Some of) My Influences

I think every writer learns something from everything they read - good or bad; what works or what doesn't - but there are select authors that have had the greatest influence upon their own writing. At least that's how it is for me. Here are a few of my influences:

John Irving To me, Irving is a writer's writer. The intensity of commitment to his work, his love and knowledge of literature comes through page after page of his writing. That alone I find inspiring. But equally impressive is the way he makes his well-layered plots, in-depth characters, and thematic motifs so readable. The Hotel New Hampshire and A Widow for One Year are two of my favorites of his, while A Prayer for Owen Meany is my all-time favorite novel.

Ray Bradbury Fahrenheit 451 was the single greatest influence upon my first novel. They are really nothing alike, but the minimal manner in which he created a fantastic yet believable world as the foundation for his book's ideas and themes was impressive. My own effort, I think, was a little forced at times, but satisfactory for my first time.

Sherman Alexie I generally prefer writing that is to-the-point, prose that "eschews surplusage" (as Twain put it), like Hemingway or Carver, and Alexie is one of the best. His narrative has a poetic ring to it, and his unique world-view (unique for White people, anyway) makes for absorbing, powerful reading. The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fist Fight in Heaven and Reservation Blues are especially good.   

Iain Banks As I mentioned in an earlier post, what I like most about Banks is that I have no idea what to expect from one of his books to another. From the disturbing short work The Wasp Factory, about a sixteen-year-old serial killer, to Walking on Glass, a novel of three men in virtually different universes that have an unexpected connection, to Canal Dreams, about an Asian cellist who takes on terrorists in Panama. You can't get much more unpredictable than that. I look forward to experiencing the whole of his body of work.

Harlan Ellison I had the pleasure of seeing Ellison speak many years ago. He's intense, feisty, and always ready for a fight. His writing is the same way. He's as original and prolific as they come. You may not like everything he writes, but he is never boring. Check his classic novella A Boy and His Dog, as well as the short stories "Repent, Harlequin!" Said the Ticktockman and All the Sounds of Fear.
     What I learned most from Ellison, however, is something from an introduction he wrote for the reprint of an essay by him nearly thirty years prior in Writer's Digest: "...never let mere money be an influence. A good writer can always make money, even if he or she has to drive a truck or lay brick or work in the steno pool."

Algis Budrys An above-average writer of science fiction, his influence for me came as editor for the wonderful, yet now defunct, magazine Tomorrow Speculative Fiction, and author of Writing to The Point -  a mere sixty pages on everything you need to know about writing fiction that sells. He was also one of the few editors to respectfully decline publishing one of my earliest stories. Even though I was rejected, he made me feel like a real, honest-to-goodness writer.

Valerie J. Freireich She creates other worlds of intricately layered social and political structures. And she does it seamlessly. She explains nothing, but rather drops you into the middle of the society she created as though it were the very universe you lived within and understood. I love her novels Becoming Human and Testament, and my all-time favorite short story is her Convert, which I read in the #13 issue of Tomorrow Speculative Fiction in 1994.