Those that try to tangle with my derring do

I've been editing and revising and polishing, and I'm sick of it. So tonight I worked on a brand spanking new sci fi/noir short story. I've been so focused on novels that I haven't devoted much time to shorts. I've been steadily working on notes to re-write a fantasy novella, but tonight, I just really wanted to work on something completely new and unknown to me.

So, I'm spinning out an odd little tale about hunting a time traveling murderer in post-WWII Los Angeles. I have the opening paragraphs written, but the story's central conflict is currently larger than I want. I'll see if my muses can keep the idea but change the story into something less inclined to sprawl. Ideally a flash story, because I miss writing those.

Serendipity and epiphanies

So just last night, I started a whiny, complaining email to one of my friends about writing. I got just one sentence typed in it before I decided it was rude to inflict my selfish woes on her and saved the email to draft instead of finishing and sending it. The sentence was:

I've probably said this before, but I do not appear to write well when I am not obsessing over someone.

And I thought nothing more of it. Just went to bed reading, as I usually do. My current novel is in PDF form, so I switched to a new book and read the first three chapters of Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain by Betty Edwards. Now, I'm not reading this book to learn how to draw (though I won't mind at all if my drawing abilities improve!), but this book is very highly recommended by Holly Lisle in her Think Sideways class. The lessons in the book are designed not so much to teach you how to draw as how to perceive things with the right half of your brain, so the drawing then comes naturally. Holly recommends this book for everyone, not just artists or even writers. I figured I'd better check it out, as I've really enjoyed the class and I respect Holly's opinion.

And right when I got ready to close the book for the night, that's when I realized (in a non-verbal right brain flash, LOL) that that's what "obsession" meant to me, and why I'd written that one sentence earlier. I've been using obsession to access the right half of my brain. It's my shortcut, my jumpstart. I mean, what happens when I obsess over some actor? I spend a lot of time daydreaming, a lot of time thinking in images not words. A lot of time letting the right half of my brain run completely and happily amuck while my left brain tries to tell me how completely silly I am, how useless it is to spend perfectly good hours lost daydreaming about dead actors, and to get back to reality. Right. This. Second. Every novel I've written has come during an obsession over one actor or another. From Sam Neill to Sean Bean to Vic Morrow to Dana Andrews to a little unknown actor no one has heard of named Fletcher Fist. I write very well when I can't get those actors out of my head.

So yes. My whining, complaining observation was actually valid: I haven't been writing well since November because I'm not obsessing over anyone anymore. Or in more logical words: I'm not accessing or listening to the right half of my brain as easily as I do when I'm gone over someone who appeals to me. And my left brain cannot write a novel without the right brain.

I guess this book has come along at a good time, as there appear to be no actor obsessions in my near future. I can use the book's techniques to get to the same place, and possibly in a better manner (though I can't see it as being quite as fun as my previous method.... :-D)

I am very interested now to finish reading this book and see where it takes me.

"Missing's the word."

18,000 words on the cursed fanfic story, just a few thousand words left to reach the end... and I'm stuck. I've outlined the whole thing up to present (after writing it) to make sure everything's in the right order (almost, but not quite). I've freewritten. I've daydreamed. I've played with the dog. I've read more of the novel I'm reading. I've watched half of Alvarez Kelly again (I've decided I think I need to own that one - the subject line is one of my favorite smug WH quotes from it, only I'm feeling anything but smug). I've done more freewriting but, mostly, I keep rewording the same damned question, the one I can't answer, the "why" question that's halted me in my tracks, hoping that maybe if I reword it just so, the answer will jump out at me.

Thinking about it now, I did let myself go slightly astray in the story, which might have been a bad idea. It gave me a new cool scene and direction, but I think all I did was complicate matters. And to go this direction, I had to throw out a scene that's been in my head from very early on... I'm wondering what might happen if I yank the new scene and re-write more along the original lines, might that eliminate the problem? No, cuz the nasty question still remains unanswered, and I can't move forward until I know the answer. Grrr.

Can't write a nice simple story, no... it has to have enough subplots, character arcs, and povs for a novel. Seems to be a commonality in my longer fanfic stories lately... and that makes them both logistical nightmares and, despite my frustrations, very fun.

(And I think I need to write a post sometime about the Movie Clothes I Wished I Owned. Like Dana's jacket in The Ox-Bow Incident.)

How to avoid Nano prep work

So, just two days left until nano insanity begins and last night, after struggling with determining my new novel's world's naming conventions, I gave up and watched Foreign Correspondent instead.

You know I don't think it would be very hard at all to develop a crush on Joel McCrea. This is the second film I've seen him in recently (the other was Sullivan's Travels), and in both he's so unpresuming, laid-back, and earnest, just an all around nice guy. And he's pretty darn cute besides. After Nano, I'll have to see what else he's got out there.

This movie was quite fun and entertaining. Nothing truly unexpected or twisty, just a good, solid spy yarn. Built some excellent tension and creepy suspense in places, and it has that spectacular plane crash. Dude, they don't make plane crashes look that good nowadays. Not just the crash itself, but the sinking aftermath. Yikes! I was pleased George Sanders got to play a good guy for once, just as suave and cool as always, but on the right side of the law. It was also nice to have someone as tall as Joel McCrea around so he didn't tower over everyone. And Ian Wolfe... was he ever young? LOL! He looks perpetually old. From this film to Star Trek twenty-eight years later, he doesn't seem to change hardly at all. He's even more unchanging than Walter Brennan!

Oh, and for the record, between Alistair MacLean's "Puppet on a Chain" and this movie's creepy windmills, I am never visiting Holland. I'm sure there's nothing scary about the real Holland, but the fictional versions are always so damned freaky.

Control, control, you must learn control

So, after a huge debate, I went ahead and enrolled in Holly Lisle's Think Sideways course. What decided me was the fact that I'm starting my second week of reduced hours at work. That means I've had a week with a dedicated 3-hour writing block of time each day behind me. And what were the results? Out of those five days, I only truly had one really solid day of work. The very first Monday. The rest were wishy. I slipped almost immediately into bad habits of opting to check journals, or email, or do my one game of free cell a day, or nap, or other things totally not germane to the job at hand. And this is a job. That's the point of reducing my paying hours. To add in a part-time writing gig, five days a week, that will pay me when I get my novel sold.

So, that brought me back to the course, being offered at time when really, I need a plan. I need a plan I can follow and stick with, and maybe spending good money on this will make me stop frittering around on the internet when I should be writing and writing hard. I can get a lot done in three hours when I'm concentrating. Sigh.

And this has taken me two hours of debating and considering and re-reading what's offered this morning (with a couple hundred words in there of fun throw-away writing), and here I am with my 3-hour block nearly gone.

Absence of the muse does not make my heart grow fonder

But interestingly, the story I most want to work on after a break from writing is the broken POW novel. That fascinates me, that despite the fact that I can't figure out the critical missing pieces that would let me finish it, it still compels me. It haunts me nights, the voice of the protagonist so clear. Now if only the other lead would be as forthcoming. Ciphers I don't need.

As a concession to that driving need to write the book, I tried appealing to muse#2 to come back and drop me some hint. I've all but given up on him, but that's typical for our rocky relationship. However, the other muses are no help, so it's back to #2. Maybe that will appeal to his ego. We'll see how things fare.

what I do when I'm not writing

Of all my passions -- and I have many -- opera tops them all. Movies, books, writing, film scores, Combat!, etc. They all pale next to my love for opera. Specifically, Italian opera, and of my favorite Italian composers, Puccini takes the prize. I love Verdi almost as much -- it's nearly a tie half the time-- but Puccini still comes out on top.

So, it's probably rather surprising that I know next to nothing about him other than which operas he wrote in what order, and when he lived. This surprises me even more, because my sister and I spend hours and hours dissecting his operas, and as a writer, I'm particularly fascinated by his "narrative kinks." The things that push his buttons and he brings in over and over. Because, of course, a lot of them are my own. Well, duh. They would be. His operas have always been the biggest inspiration in my life. The men I like come, the stories I like, the plot twist/reveals -- they all originate with Puccini.

I remedied my lack of knowledge this weekend and read a biography that my sister had. Interesting, but bland, and entirely lacking in what I wanted to know. So, I'm eyeing some other biographies. Need to find the local library, see what they have. But it did cover all the basics, why La Fanciulla del West is so different from Madama Butterfly, why it took him so long to write each opera, his relationship with his librettists (which is one of the things I want more of), the role Ricordi played in support and encouragement, and the basics of his personal life.

Halfway through December. I did not keep up the momentum of nano, but that was because I couldn't get my mind around what happens next in the novel. I'd look at my outline, but nothing would come out when I sat down to write. So, I read a lot. Finished two novels, and am partway through a third.

Really, my brain is rather obsessed with the 50k it already has and editing that. I feel like I need to get it in shape, stop carrying the true story only in my head and have the paper reflect what I learned on the nano run. Been spending a fair amount of time rolling it around without much conscious thought. Letting the images and feelings run, letting the subconscious control the pathing. It has been solidifying nicely. Had one nice realization about one minor but important character. I feel a little surer of the voice I want now. I still can't figure out whether to go with my sort of alt-1940's world with the automobiles and suits and modern conveniences, or switch it into something more classically magic-oriented. I lean towards the former, because that's how the story was conceived. But that doesn't mean it serves the story. It just means I like it. And the world-building of that alt-1940's is a bear and brings some potential reader baggage I want to avoid. But... ? When the right setting gives me a zing, I know it'll be time to write.

The rest, as always, is a matter of sitting down and doing.

Excuses, excuses

Hitting the wall early this nano. Got 500 words this morning, but tonight... brain refuses to work. I cannot see ahead right now, and it's driving me crazy. And I ran out of orange juice for my sore throat. And I'm cold. And I have "Rest in Peace" from Once More With Feeling stuck in my head now.

So, I resort to pictures to, um, er... inspire me?

Not an auspicious beginning

Okay, so on my birthday, I wished for one thing. That my muse come back from whatever extended holiday he's been enjoying and work with me, damn it. In turn, I promised focus and industrious work on whatever he gave me.

So, big (BIG!) note to self: 'Dear Deb -- when making such promises about writing, do not -- repeat, do not start off your first writing night by watching any movie where Aldo Ray goes shirtless. It renders your brain (and most of the rest of you) to mush, from which it takes hours to recover. And little to no writing will get done, and you will just get pointlessly angry. Reading. Reading's the ticket. Thanks.'

Discipline? What's that?

Discipline looks a lot better when someone else is wearing the uniform.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I should be working on that novel. But I'm not. I'm working on the other novel. I'm unpacking boxes (got about 8 taken care of). I'm finishing off the contact paper in the last cupboard of the kitchen. I'm watching "L.A. Confidential" and wondering how I'd recast it if I'd been making it in the 50's. I'm cooking twice-baked potatoes for the gang. I'm sorting crud that's not mine in the garage. Oh yeah. And I'm working on the other novel. Because I can't get my brain into DTD mode. Need to watch "Where the Sidewalk Ends." Doesn't matter what mood I'm in. This is business. This is work. This is discipline.

Which I don't seem to have today. Sigh.

Not there...

Okay, I admit. I can't write anything serious right now while life is full of other things. Trying to commit to a revision of DTD, but brain is too distracted to do it. Sticking with flash fiction and short things, but they're not satisfying. Having trouble reading too. I think I've started probably five books in the last month, and all sit languishing on the shelf, unfinished.

I'm oddly cool with this huge chunk of downtime. I'm not feeling like I can't ever write again, it's just feeling like necessary time off while some big changes occur. I think if I started to work on a bigger project that's important to me, I would resent the Real Life things for intruding on my valuable writing time.

So, opting to stick with very short things that won't engage the better part of my brain.

all play and no work...

Been neglecting this blog in favor of LJ, ah well. And it looks like it's going to force me to switch to this google accounts thing. Lovely. One more login and password to set up and remember.

Writing has been unproductive of late. My own fault. Simply a lack of concentration. Novel edits were going well until I hit a wall. Have to shift a few things around and am not quite sure how I want to go about it just yet. And so it sits while I figure it out. Two new fanfic pieces are going considerably better, but they're not hopping either, merely plugging along. And how exactly does it all work out so prolifically during nano, anyway? Sigh.

famous last words

They say you don't remember the pain of writing a story after it's over. And it's true. You don't. The pain fades quickly and all you're left with is a shiny spread of words to savor. How long or how hard it took to get them no longer matters.

But that knowledge is not helping during the writing of this particular story.

So, I've been wondering how much writing I want to push myself to do right now. The year ahead originally looked to be more of a editing year, but now it looks like it's shaping up to be editing AND new stuff too. I've committed to writing a story a month for my sister, due on or about the 15th of each month. So that'll be 12 new flash or short stories this year.

I briefly thought about doing this too. It's only 750 words a day, it's a deadline, I've got a bunch of friends doing it, so there's that peer pressure thing to help keep things on track.... The only thing holding me back is that I tend to devote heavily to projects, and I'm not sure how much I want to split my brain up into a new project while I edit the older ones. I'm not the best writing multi-tasker in the world. And I don't exactly need a new project when I've got three others needing editing and a fourth that needs to be finished. Still, going to spend tonight contemplating which project I would write for the new novel, or if I'd rather just focus on editing.

uncooperative story

Grumble. Grumble grumble, grrrrr, tank, grumble, grenade, grumble, grrrrrr, grumble.

Author stumbles off to bang her head into a wall.

Worse than unfocussed brain

Now, I have useless brain. It's forgotten how to put together a sentence and it's unwilling to work with me right now. Appeals to long-absent muses are going nowhere. I resorted to a movie.

Now, I was supposed to watch "Swamp Water," which is a HAPPY movie (well, mostly) and something to BREAK my mood. What ended up in the DVD player? "The Ox-Bow Incident." NOT a happy movie!! It didn't break my mood: it INTENSIFIED my mood. I haven't put that one on in several months, and I got the kicked-in-the-stomach reaction all over again. Now, I'm going to bed without a word written, more depressed than when I started.

I'm a bloody fool.

frustrations

You know you're screwed when you start asking too many "why" questions and you don't have answers. You know where you want the story to go, you know where it must end up, but when the whys and hows of getting there were cheated on the first draft, they're going to remain cheated on the second if you only work with the existing words. Simply trying to backthink it all and insert more logical whys is plot jury-rigging of the highest order, and it DOES NOT WORK.

And that's where I'm stuck at.

What I need to do is back off a bit. The answers are there, right in front of me, but due to artificial time constraints, I'm attempting to patch and jury-rig it, rather than gutting the ship properly and rebuilding it, which is what it actually needs.

still not in the swing of things, but improving

If all else fails... switch writing projects until clarity returns.

Sleep, Data, sleep...

Eek. It's been ten days since I worked on novel. Now, I gotta find the writing rhythm all over again. Darned vacation/trips. Mess me up. Doesn't help that I got little sleep while I was away, and I've been waiting and waiting for today to come just so I could crash out for a few hours in the middle of the day. They say you can't truly catch up on sleep, but I don't know. Some extra ZZZ's seems to do the trick for me. I don't feel guilty for sleeping, but I've also got three movies from Netflix I haven't watched yet (over dinner, I keep going back to the ones I own instead of the new rental ones, *shakes head*).

And I've had the word "maladroit" stuck in my head for two days now. Not sure why.

And I have two novellas, both completed but in various stages of revision, that do not have titles. They've never had titles. Today, here and now, for some perplexing reason, this is really bugging me ("You're buggin' me, man, you're buggin' me! - Sylvester, It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World). I want titles. I want something to call them instead of "the mother story" and "the telling." I'd also like to finish them but, really, that's secondary to finding decent titles. Argh. Why this popped up here and now, I have no idea. But now that it's in my head...