If you've ever read a Stephen King novel, you will understand the bewilderment I have with how he keeps his thousands of characters (in one book!) straight. Not only that, but he manages to make the reader fall in love/hate with each and every one of them. There's never been a character in one of his books where I'm all, ehhh, I could have done without so-and-so.
When I started writing AYLB, my main cast was about eleven characters. I thought, whatever, they all play a part, so there we go. But each time I go back to it, I cut out one more character, either because they're not important or I just have no place to put them. I have a core group of about five characters, and then another six or seven who pop in and out of the first story, eventually (hopefully) solidifying themselves in the second installment.
But sometimes I wonder how I can get them all to stop being characters and start being real (yes, I had an image of old MTV when I typed that). My core group is fine...I hope. But some of the others...I'm sitting there and asking, why are you doing that? Is that something you would say? Why are such a jerk/pushover? I've never been a patient person, so I feel that I need to reveal their entire backstory in two paragraphs, but then what's left for them? A bit of mystery can be a good thing, but tell that to a person who skips to the end of the book when she knows she just can't handle it (Pandemonium was the last book I did that too, and I'm almost embarrassed to admit that I'm so glad I did).
This thought led to another: how do I write a character when I'm angry? Things happen in life and I turn to writing to smooth out the stress, but sometimes I go back and reread what I've written...and it's not good. My once cocky but sweet character has turned into an out-and-out jerkface, and that's thanks to whoever has pissed me off. Trying to separate real life and fantasy life is hard sometimes, especially when all I want to do is immortalize someone who has brought me to tears.
Besides all of the above, the writing is going well and I've changed a lot of the story from the original. But it's working. Well, for now.
Saturday, February 23, 2013
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Shhh...
Can I tell you a secret? Sure I can. The internet is totally a safe place where one can share their deepest, darkest secrets (said no one, ever).
Well. About five years ago, I started writing something. An idea burrowed itself in my head and decided to stay there, forever. Even when I told myself, no way, this is not something I want to write about, I found myself creating characters, putting them in front of a backdrop, weaving together worlds that had no business being near each other. It was about three months after that idea stubbornly built a home inside my mind that I realized...it was good. Without realizing, I had practically written a story that I liked, that I enjoyed, that I (dare I say it?) loved. It was exciting to me and I wrote it out because I wanted to, not because I thought someone else might enjoy it, not because I thought it would be totally publishable (that, apparently, is a word!), but because I wanted to write it. I would rush home from work, where I had sat for eight hours that day, dreaming, sketching, teasing, and write down whatever came from me, whatever felt right at that moment. When I finished, I had something that I could really see sharing with the world.
And then the inner editor raised her ugly head.
I started looking at it as one might look at week old Chinese food: it was disgusting; it was trash; why was it still on my desk? So I threw it aside, knowing that it was destined for nothing. When I finally went back to it, I destroyed it, cutting it up into unrecognizable pieces, thinking about the public more than myself. I had thought about that stupid quote, write what you know, instead of writing what I liked. These other stories that I've been writing, that I've been chronicling here, those have been the real distractions. But with a helpful kick in the butt from my boyfriend, I've finally gotten back to what I love: the idea that wouldn't die.
I've sketched it out again, starting from scratch, because I'm once again excited about it. I want to see how this new world I've created will play out, and how my characters will react to it. Oh, my characters. I'm more in love with them than ever. And while I hope that the public, who may see my little story, will love them, I don't really care about that right now. All I care about is being happy at the end of the day with what I've accomplished.
So, yes, I skip around. I follow different threads until I can't follow them anymore. But now I have a support team and now I know what I'm supposed to be doing. And it's this, it's All You've Left Behind, the story that wouldn't quit. It's the story that made me love writing.
Well. About five years ago, I started writing something. An idea burrowed itself in my head and decided to stay there, forever. Even when I told myself, no way, this is not something I want to write about, I found myself creating characters, putting them in front of a backdrop, weaving together worlds that had no business being near each other. It was about three months after that idea stubbornly built a home inside my mind that I realized...it was good. Without realizing, I had practically written a story that I liked, that I enjoyed, that I (dare I say it?) loved. It was exciting to me and I wrote it out because I wanted to, not because I thought someone else might enjoy it, not because I thought it would be totally publishable (that, apparently, is a word!), but because I wanted to write it. I would rush home from work, where I had sat for eight hours that day, dreaming, sketching, teasing, and write down whatever came from me, whatever felt right at that moment. When I finished, I had something that I could really see sharing with the world.
And then the inner editor raised her ugly head.
I started looking at it as one might look at week old Chinese food: it was disgusting; it was trash; why was it still on my desk? So I threw it aside, knowing that it was destined for nothing. When I finally went back to it, I destroyed it, cutting it up into unrecognizable pieces, thinking about the public more than myself. I had thought about that stupid quote, write what you know, instead of writing what I liked. These other stories that I've been writing, that I've been chronicling here, those have been the real distractions. But with a helpful kick in the butt from my boyfriend, I've finally gotten back to what I love: the idea that wouldn't die.
I've sketched it out again, starting from scratch, because I'm once again excited about it. I want to see how this new world I've created will play out, and how my characters will react to it. Oh, my characters. I'm more in love with them than ever. And while I hope that the public, who may see my little story, will love them, I don't really care about that right now. All I care about is being happy at the end of the day with what I've accomplished.
So, yes, I skip around. I follow different threads until I can't follow them anymore. But now I have a support team and now I know what I'm supposed to be doing. And it's this, it's All You've Left Behind, the story that wouldn't quit. It's the story that made me love writing.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Distractions!
Did you know that the internet has thousands and thousands (possibly even millions!) of links out there? Links that are just sitting there, waiting for me to click on them and spend hours staring at the screen? Newsflash, right? Well, I discovered (a little late, I might add) The Lizzie Bennet Diaries on YouTube. Seriously, go check it out. I'm on episode 30 and I just started last night. I can't stop watching. I keep telling myself, I'll get back to writing after this episode, it's only 4 minutes long! Add an eye roll for effect, and you have my conversation down. I mean, sure, I have been able to write about 5,000 yesterday and this morning, and that should be cause for celebration, right? Wrong.
Which brings me to my next thread of consciousness: James Patterson. I get that he has co-authors and junk, so don't jump on me. But that man puts out about a bajillion books in a year, and I wonder how the hell he does it. How can he have so many ideas in a year? Well, let's go back to my 5,000 word hoopla. Yes, it's 5,000. Yes, it's consistent with my 1,500 word target. Oh, did I mention that those 5,000 words for neither story #1 nor story #2? Oh, yes, this is story #3, a string that I've clung onto for the last few weeks. I tried to put it aside, tried, even, to tell myself that this was not the kind of story that I want to invest my time in, but...there it is.
Maybe I'll just James Patterson it and take on all three at once. Sigh. I need a co-author. And millions of dollars. And a pony. The last one doesn't help writing at all, but it would be awesome to finally have my own pony. Distractions. Aren't they wonderful?
Which brings me to my next thread of consciousness: James Patterson. I get that he has co-authors and junk, so don't jump on me. But that man puts out about a bajillion books in a year, and I wonder how the hell he does it. How can he have so many ideas in a year? Well, let's go back to my 5,000 word hoopla. Yes, it's 5,000. Yes, it's consistent with my 1,500 word target. Oh, did I mention that those 5,000 words for neither story #1 nor story #2? Oh, yes, this is story #3, a string that I've clung onto for the last few weeks. I tried to put it aside, tried, even, to tell myself that this was not the kind of story that I want to invest my time in, but...there it is.
Maybe I'll just James Patterson it and take on all three at once. Sigh. I need a co-author. And millions of dollars. And a pony. The last one doesn't help writing at all, but it would be awesome to finally have my own pony. Distractions. Aren't they wonderful?
Sunday, February 3, 2013
Technology
For the last four days, my computer has been out of commission. I used to think that those people who rely on their computers/phones/tablets/whatever were kind of pathetic. But, then, I had never had any problem with my computer or phone. But these four days have been HELL. Nothing opened up and everything froze when it did eventually open up. Sigh. Luckily, my boyfriend is technologically-inclined (or whatever you call it), and he fixed it. Now it starts like new and I can finally get back to writing.
So there's really no update about writing, since I've spent most of my energy either yelling at or begging my computer to work. I might take this day off, too, because of the Super Bowl. At least, I'm going to tell myself that, but what I'm really going to do is go shopping. Because there is no better day in America to shop than on Super Bowl Sunday. No one is out! And even though I'm originally from up near San Francisco, I hate the 49ers. I'm my father's daughter and we all hated the 49ers after Joe Montana left. For him, it was because that was his favorite player; for me, it was because I did whatever my dad did when I was a kid.
Okay, now off to Target! Hopefully I don't walk away broke.
So there's really no update about writing, since I've spent most of my energy either yelling at or begging my computer to work. I might take this day off, too, because of the Super Bowl. At least, I'm going to tell myself that, but what I'm really going to do is go shopping. Because there is no better day in America to shop than on Super Bowl Sunday. No one is out! And even though I'm originally from up near San Francisco, I hate the 49ers. I'm my father's daughter and we all hated the 49ers after Joe Montana left. For him, it was because that was his favorite player; for me, it was because I did whatever my dad did when I was a kid.
Okay, now off to Target! Hopefully I don't walk away broke.
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