Blog Archives

Dear Flying Superheroes: FLY HIGHER

Back in the days when I read more superhero comix, and today when I watch a movie with a flying superhero — especially one with some kind of ranged attack, IRON MAN I’M LOOKING AT YOU — I’m super annoyed when they just happen to fly low enough for an opponent with no ranged attack to grab or hit them.

JUST FLY HIGHER, DUMMY.

“But the plot requires me to get close enough to let my opponent start a thrilling grapple…”

SHUT UP THAT’S LAZY-ASS WRITING.

Same goes for every drama that features a standoff with a gun and the hero stands there holding the gun on the villain as the villain creeps closer and closer until they can just grab the gun. It rarely makes sense. If there’s something about the character holding the gun that makes it make sense, fine. Maybe they’ve just realized that they can’t bring themselves to shoot another human being. Or there’s some overriding reason that shooting and maybe killing the villain would be a terrible idea.

But that’s so seldom the case. More often than not, it’s a contrived situation to up the tension.

Don’t be lazy and write things that don’t make sense. If you want more tension or whatever, and it doesn’t make sense, GO BACK AND WRITE IT DIFFERENTLY SO IT MAKES SENSE.

If the tiger catches the drone, make sure there’s some internal logic to it.

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Revising An Old Story — And Boy Does It Need A New Cover, Too

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(This post first appeared on my Patreon page on the 21st. Become a patron and see posts early, get FREE ebooks before anyone else can get them, and help me on my quest to feed a family of five with my dreams!)

 

For a little while now, I’ve been kicking around the idea of going back and editing some of my oldest stories. I generally still like those stories from my earliest days of self-publishing — an immense five years ago, has it really been so little time? It seems like ages.

 

It’s exactly because it seems like ages that I want to create some revamped editions of those stories. Five years isn’t all that long ago, but it was only seven years ago that I decided it might be fun to take up writing for my own enjoyment again and only six years ago that I decided — okay, my wife persuaded me over my own self-conscious and self-deprecating protests — that I might want to write stories to share with other people, and maybe even sell a few.

 

I used to write in grade school, imitations of science fiction stories found in libraries and the steady stream of paperbacks my father devoured. But after placing only (!) third in a short story contest in my smallish school, I decided I must not be cut out for writing — I had absorbed, from somewhere, the idea that writing was a talent and not a skill, and I didn’t have it. I wrote a few short stories in my teens and twenties, for my eyes only. Still convinced that, though fun, I just didn’t have the talent to write good ones. The thought of writing disappeared from my horizon until my late thirties, when it finally sank through my thick skull — I think the credit goes to Stephen King’s On Writing, which my wife brought home for me from a thrift store — that writing was a skill, like any art, and takes practice and time for the skill to develop.

 

And so I started filling notebooks with my own writing and reading the stories I loved with an eye toward what made them fun and interesting to read.

 

Those early self-published works were published while my skills were still new, and they show it. Are they still good? I hope so — at the least, I think the concepts are sound and the basics of story are there. But after writing a hundred and something short stories and making my way through an English fiction writing MA (I’m in the final course of my program as I write this) I think my writing has evolved significantly in the last few years. And I think any writer who passes through the first five years of writing with the intent to be published does the same — the early years of developing any skill are the years of greatest growth.

 

Now here’s the bit that’s important to you if you are interested in writing and especially if you have enjoyed some of my stories:

I’m planning on writing a few posts along the way as I revise, and I’m planning on publishing new editions with the old text included after the new text for anyone who would like to compare and contrast.

 

I think it will be an interesting look into how a writer evolves, for you and certainly for me.

 

I’d love to have the old and new text side by side for easy comparison, but there are a few factors in the way, so one after another it will have to be. 1: my primary self-publishing outlet, Smashwords, doesn’t like columnar formatting. 2: even if I could finangle side-by-side columns they would look like hell on any device you’d read an ebook on, short of maybe a 40″ monitor. 3: my stories tend to lengthen with editing despite the fat I cut, and the comparison columns would soon be out of sync anyway.

 

But why, exactly, is any of that important?

Because as my patrons (if you’re not, I’m talking to you in the next paragraph, and this one is short, so I’ll be right with you), I’ll treat new editions of old stories exactly like new stories. You will see them on Patreon a minimum of 30 days before they appear anywhere else, and you will get a free copy in PDF, EPUB, and MOBI regardless of what I charge for the new edition elsewhere. This one I’m tackling first, “In Real Life”, is priced at $1.99.

 

Even if you’re not one of my Patreon patrons, you may not have read the original, and may find it best to wait and get the new and old editions together — and if by chance you bought the original ebook, once the new edition is released you *should* be able to download the new version from the original vendor you purchased it from. If not, let me know and I’ll hook you up after the patron-exclusive 30 days ends — you’re on the honor system; please be kind to this writer who needs every penny he earns to keep his 20 year old minivan running and the lights on at home.

 

Also, the story may get longer — at least three readers have told me that they’d love for it to be longer, maybe to reveal what happens next after the ending. Now, “tell us what happens next” is sometimes the bane of the short story writers — I, like many others, like an open-ended ending that invites the reader to imagine the possibilities beyond the end of the story — but sometimes it’s actually a good idea. I’m thinking particularly of “Isolation”, the title story of my Isolation and Other Stories collection, which ended after what became the first third of the story in the original draft. My wife read it and said, as near as I can remember, “hell no, you can’t end it there. It needs more.”

 

Sometimes the reader is right. “In Real Life” might need more. Or it might not. We’ll see. But like I said before, my drafts tend to grow during editing — just as, in the old saying, stories grow with the telling.

 

No matter how it goes, it should be fun.

 

Please don’t remind me that those are famous last words — let’s end on a high note.

Blog Block

Writer’s block is something a lot of writers talk and blog about, I’ve noticed.  I’ve seen dozens of blog posts and articles on the subject, with hundreds of suggestions about what to do about it.  Take a break from writing.  Don’t take a break from writing.  Write about something you don’t usually write about.  Write more of the same.  Worry about it.  Don’t worry about it.

I have times when I hit a point in a story and I don’t know what comes next, but it’s pretty rare that I just can’t write.  If nothing is coming I knock off for the day and when the next day comes I get back into it.

What I get is blogger’s block.  I know I don’t have to get it.  It’s all in my head.  Because I get into a certain idea of what a blog post should be and I fixate on it.  When I stop fixating, it’s no trouble at all to write a blog post.  I’m writing this less for you and more for myself, to reinforce in my own mind through the process of blogging the reasons that I don’t need to have blogger’s block, in fact.

My fixation: I get it into my head that a blog post ought to be headed with a nice image, be a certain length, have a certain tone to it.  That it should be relatively serious and address some sort of issue.

If you blog and your blog is about a particular issue and is a serious blog, then that’s fine and that’s how your blog should be.

This blog isn’t, particularly.  This is a space for my own thoughts, for occasional randomness, on occasion for my actual writing, for musing about my process, my past, and my environment.  It’s for just about anything, thus the title of the blog.

When I forget that and start to put bounds around what I think I should put here, I get blocked.  I suspect writer’s block works the same way as what I’m calling blogger’s block.  We all have our own bounds, some justified and some arbitrary assumptions.  It’s up to each of us to figure out what we’re putting in our own way that is arbitrary, and figure out how to move past it.

 

Best of luck.