We All Get Better

Recently I discovered a collection of short stories by one of my favorite sci-fi/fantasy writers. The reason I hadn’t read them before is because these tales were early works of said author. Very early. I devoured them with great zeal and was….rather disappointed. It wasn’t that the stories were bad…a couple were ahhhhh worthy…it was that none of them showed the sparkle I’ve come to expect. I couldn’t put my finger on it; the plots were more or less good, the writing technically great, but that special something just wasn’t there.

After I finished I got out my first story. It wasn’t bad. But it wasn’t that good either. OK plot, only a few edits I wouldn’t have made today, but it didn’t wow. I can see why it never sold.

Reading the early works of one of my favorite (and famous) writers made me feel a whole lot better about my stuff. We all start out somewhat shy of what will develop into our own personal style, and even after achieving that, we can all strive to get better and better. This experience has also caused me to contemplate just what does make a story sing beyond plot, characters, setting, technical expertise...I know it when I read it, but that's not all that helpful. Hummmm...

In the meantime, I can only hope that my debut story never gets dug out from its worthy grave.

Deep Into the Forest

Valentine’s Day Eve finds me in the woods, but not in a bad way. I’m about a third done with my new fantasy book. It’s been fun immersing myself in what I would classify as a traditional fantasy, albeit I’m writing in first person.

I’ve noticed a few things along the way. First, to use or not to use “medieval speak”, such as thee, thou, milady, forsooth, etcetera. I’ve decided not to. As my sister says, we don’t really know if people spoke that way, it’s hard to do well and consistently, and, even when you do accomplish it can be irritating for the reader.

Second, where are we, exactly? Old earth? OK, but that limits you to say, dragons. Most fantasy writers ask the reader to imagine an alternate earth somewhere out there or a parallel timeline. You know, where there are dragons. :-) I’ve decided to do that. Which opens up its own can of worms, such as, are there worms? And should they be in a can?

What I’ve chosen to do is try not to be too earth-like. So, while I may use the word apple, I don’t have my apples coming from a known orchard or dipped in Kraft caramel coating. My criteria? If it’s too distracting or jumps out at me when I re-read I choose another word.

Lastly, how does the magic work? I think this one is very important. Are people born with magic or must you learn it...or both? Does it bubble up from some sort of magical font? Ride in on a comet? There are some who believe fantasy is easier to write than Sci-fi because you don’t have to explain the science, but I disagree. Magical boundaries and criteria are just as important.

At least, they are in my book. Tally ho and all that rot.

When the Clock Strikes Midnight

There comes a time in every novel that I call I Don’t Want To But I Have To. This event usually arrives ¾ into my book; the proverbial story “arc,” where all of the plot points meld. In my books this means all the protagonist’s foibles merge, and then she or he gets a big whack. After that comes the exciting conclusion (hopefully) and final resolutions.

The trouble is, I don’t much like writing the big whack. But it is absolutely necessary. Let’s face it, it’s not too interesting to read about someone living a stress-free life. Conflict is more exciting. You don’t hear much about Cinderella’s life after she gets married, for example. Small domestic squabbles don’t make for page turners, at least, not for me. I’m guessing Cindy and Prince argued over how many dresses that silver tree shook down for her. In the original tale. Read it sometime. Much better than the Disney version.

Anyway, I know there must be a story arc, I know my protagonist must reap what she has sown, I know this makes for exciting reading after the sad part is completed, but I don’t want to. By this point I care about her. I want her to be happy. And perhaps she will be, but first…WHACK!

The other interesting thing for me as a writer is that I know in general terms what the learning will consist of, but I never know for sure until I write it. That’s uncomfortable, because sometimes those scenes are more debilitating, horrifying, or unexpected than I had ever imagined.

But I must. Connor, my detective from my new book, must plow into what my readers will know she is heading for even if she doesn’t. To do otherwise wouldn’t be fair, and wouldn’t make for a good read.

I’ll try to be gentle.

Cross Pollination

I've started my new book. It feels good. This one has been rolling around my brain for some time. The main reason for the wait was because my husband started a ghost book a year ago just about the time I would have begun mine…about ghosts.

The two tales had similarities; both first person, both female detectives who could see ghosts. Especially since this was his first book I didn’t want to steal any thunder…or his idea. After his was safely sold (coming out next year), I decided I could write mine.

I told him about it. He reminded me that all stories have been written, and that my telling would be completely different from his. He thought it was silly that I even mentioned it…or to have waited.

I’m lucky to be married to such a wise man.

He’s right, of course. Taking one example, how many books recently have been written about a woman choosing between a vampire and human lover? Let's see, Stephanie Meyer with Twilight, but then there’s Laurell Hamilton’s vampire series, and Sunshine, by Robin McKinley. All of these books are VERY different, yet all contain a similar theme.

There is no way a completely original idea is possible. And even before the written word, there were stories told around ancient campsites. Human archetypal memory is very old.

The way it emerges, however, is completely the author’s own. And that is impossible to copy, because no one could duplicate another’s soul.

Ahhhhhh.