Update

It's been a tough couple of weeks, with a new job and problems with the townhouse we've yet to move into. Between commuting, working and racing down to the coast to pick up more stuff, I haven't had a lot of time to be online - no blogging from work, it's a secured location.

We've got a moving day... in the middle of the week, so I have to take a day off already.

I'm hoping that finally, finally, we'll be in the new place on the weekend. There's still so much to do before Christmas. I guess I'll be out hunting down the last of the prezzos this weekend.

On the move

Okay, so I haven't had time to read, or do anything else.

Thursday afternoon - a quarter to five (end of the business day) - I recieved word that I'd found somewhere to live in Canberra; it's a rather nice townhouse. But I had 24 hours to sign the lease.

The nation's Capital, it should be noted, is a three hour drive away. With the aged parent, who isn't a morning person and packing up some essentials, we made the appointment at precisely 4 o'clock. I won't go into the all the nastie little details, but it took nearly an hour to complete the paperwork.

Of course, the Post Office needs three working days to sort the mail redirection and I won't be submitting the paperwork for that until I have the keys in my hot and sweaty little hand. Worse, my email account picked up a f*&$ing virus and I've had to write down and then delete all addresses. A group hug to all those who need to know will have to wait until I'm sure the virus is a gonna.

Getting an uplift of all the heavy furniture is the next project. I start the new job on Monday, so that's going to be epic. All I can say is that the Body Corporate had better suck it up and keep out of the way of the moving van.

So. Back to packing; I head back to Canberra tomorrow.

Over for another year

And so Nano is ending around the world for another year. Writers are squeeing over their 50,000 words and wallowing in the knowledge that they did the job. Some have done an outstanding job; others, not so much.

But now what? Oh, right: send it out to an agent/editor/publisher.

Three words of advice: Don't. Do. It!

While it's an achievement to finish the 50k, agents/editors/publishers around the world are also busy - buying up crates of their alcoholic beverage of choice in preparation for the influx of 'Nano novels'.

If you're not a fan of the Fake Editor Twitter, here are a few gems recently posted:

I have no fewer than 15 obvious #NaNoWriMo books in my Inbox. All are just over 50k in length, all clearly unedited. #thisiswhyIdrink

 If your query starts “Here’s the novel I finished writing last night,” it doesn’t matter what you say next. I've stopped reading. #FE2

 "Dear editor, please consider my fiction novel of 50,006 words that I swear isn't a NaNo book" doesn't inspire much confidence.

 “Look at me, I wrote a novel in a month!” No, honey. You typed 50,000 words in a month. Not the same thing. #FE2

The truth is in the last comment. Yes, you've written 50,000 words and that's great, but that's all you've done. 50,000 words do not make a book. It's three-quarters of a first draft.


The National Novel Writing Competition level of 50k was set as an achievable goal, a method to teach consistency in writing, a test bed to see if you've got what it takes to sit down everyday and write a minimum of 1,667 words. Using the word 'novel' is a bit of a misnomer, unless you're writing for young adults, and even then, writers like J.K. Rowling and Suzanne Collins produce books with more words.


I'm not criticising, Nano is a wonderful tool and I use it with ferocity. But I also know 50k doesn't make a book, it makes a damned good start on one. I write a minimum of two books at least 80k and if I have time, a third. I let them sit and then EDIT and RE-WRITE along with the bitching and moaning about why I thought that scene, that character, those conversations were a good idea.


People who finished the 50k deserve to celebrate - writing that much in a month is no easy task when there are so many other distractions and chores. Thousands of people have created new worlds, new characters, new stories to beguile the reader. If only we could harness such creative energy for other things...


December is a time for rest after the frantic race to the deadline, but it should also be a time for those who just made the 50k to examine whether the story is complete, whether the plots have been resolved and when the promise of the first chapter has been fulfilled by the last. And then finish it if not.


Me, I'm off to read a few books, like Anne McCaffrey and Lynn Viehl - oh, and do the housework that has been sadly neglected; and pack for the move.

Congrats to all who finished Nano, may it be the start of a long and productive career.

Counting down to the end

Here we go. It's the last day of Nano and I'm up early hammering the keyboard.

It feels like deja vu all over again. If I remember correctly - and I think I do - I was doing this yesterday, and the day before...

I'm onto the third book (Oracle 4), which I don't have a hope of finishing today because the first and second took longer than expected. I did write in Canberra, this book is flowing much easier than the other two and my fingers only cramped up a few times. The shoulders, well, I'll treat them to some down time tomorrow - I promise.

I'm not a fan of leaving a book half written, but other obligations, like shifting stuff, finding a place to live and starting the new job is going to put a stop to any concentration or writing for a while. Which is why I'm abusing the poor keyboard. The further into the book, the easier it will be to pick up the threads when I do return to it.

So, enough stuffing around on the 'net, it's time to pound those words out until the keyboard ignites from friction!

It's the potential

We're in the last week of Nano, and most of us struggling to reach the goal.

It's not necessarily the 50K goal,  but the goal we set for ourselves. We're tired, we have other things to do, a month is too long, we are so over it!!

But should you feel that your entire manuscript - be it 10, 20, 30, 40 or 100k words long - is a load of over-dramatic, derivative twaddle, you need something to keep you going, something to encourage you to reach the end.

Well, there is one word to hold on to - no matter that you think all you've written is absolute crap; no matter that the family is pissed at you for spending all your time in another world, another land or another time, with other people, who are probably having sex or a fight to boost the word count; no matter that your work colleagues have given you the gimlet eye because you're verbalising Olde English/Magical/Alien dialogue under your breath - the word you need to remember at this stage of Nano is... potential.

Every first draft has the potential to become so much more.

But you need to write it first. It may be crap. It may be a little confused. It may need a serious rewrite. But the potential is there. What you've written so far is the first impression of an idea, and once out of your head and on the computer/notebook, it has potential. It needs more than the first rush of temper to write it down, it needs flesh on those bones, it needs emotion, soul. That can wait until December, for now the bones are the most important aspect.

November is about the bones, the structure, the basic frame of the work.

So, if you're thinking of throwing in the towel and calling it quits, think of the potential of your manuscript-in-progress; think of the ending you're nearing, and dream of what might be...

Moving on

I'm off to Canberra today, so I was up early to write before packing. A few hours later, I had nearly three and a half thousand words More than I expected.

The second book is going well, so well, I might sneak in a few extras once I get to the Capital.

I'd like to think I can find somewhere to live over the weekend, but the reality is, I don't think there's enough time before I start work in ten days. After that, it's all down to time management - at which I suck.

sigh.

Anne McCaffrey

Anne McCaffrey was the first fantasy author I read. I fell in love with the Dragons of Pern and had to have the entire series no matter what.

The Crystal Singer was also one of my fav reads. I've read her work repeatedly over the years, and I found inspiration within those pages.

Anne, along with the late Andre Norton, sparked my imganiation to write on my own stories. I've never written of dragons, nor of telepaths or sentient ships. I chose my own worlds to build, but it is thanks to Anne that I first felt the urge.

Ms McCaffrey was a great exponent of paying it forward, guiding careers and co-authoring with Elizabeth Moon, Mercedes Lackey and Jody Lynn Nye to name three.

I always thought she should have been made a Grand Master of the genre years ago rather than in 2005 - but that's just me.

Today, an astonishing talent has passed and leaves the world poorer. But her body of work will live on.

As my Nano reward, I'm going to re-read her collection and appreciate her art all over again.

Nano done, but not over yet.

A mixed day today, of the good, the bad and ugly.

First, the bad and the ugly: I have a... let's cal it an aversion, to particular eight-legged beasties. I have no idea why I decided that spiders would be a part of this book, let alone giant ones. I think it was a subconscious thing, since they are, not complex, but a simpler organism to clone. (Long story.)

And so it came to pass that I had to do some in depth research on the little beasties. [Insert shudder and a quick glance around the room - just in case.] I doubt I'll ever be comfortable with them, and confrontation therapy is so not happening. But I did the research and that led to...

...the good news. Which is the first book is done. It's come in at 123,000 words, but I know there is some absolute tripe that needs removing and/or rewriting.

The important fact about finishing Nano, or any brilliant idea you might have for a story, is to sit down and write it.

I suspect too many people are concerned about numbers rather than the story. If you're involved in the story, the numbers will create themselves. Write. That's all you need worry about.

Now, I shall wander away from the keyboard with vague thoughts on the book I'll start tomorrow.

100k and more to go

Finally, finally, a 10+k day. Which tells me just how difficult this book has been to write.

When you're struggling, you are struggling all over a book. It has taken fourteen days of toil and struggle and frustration and monumental cursing to reach a day were everything flowed nicely. I don't expect it to last.

Even those who plot will find sections of writing leads to the grinding of the teeth, the look around the house and think it needs cleaning, or the dog needs walking, or something, anything! to take you away from the torture.

It's about here I would suggest a fight, some sexual activity, taking or giving something from/to a character, or even wax lyrical about if you want to succeed at Nano, you need to get your butt into the chair and fingers onto the keyboard, but I'm just too shagged.

I guess the good news is that I've popped over the 100k mark for the book and the bad news is that it isn't finished and the end is nowhere in sight. The worst news is that real life is about to intrude and I doubt I'll get much more writing done. I'm pretty sure that packing up and moving an entire household will take most of my time.

I've done enough for one day and there's another one - day, that is - tomorrow.

No one died today

So I promised my sister I wouldn't kill anyone today.

A difficult task when writing about Marines in combat, complicated by a vast array of ravenous, self-aware little horrors on an alien planet.

However, in not indulging in the high word count of battle, it forced me to think more carefully about the direction of the book rather than writing about wholesale slaughter.

I have found that there is more to this book than I thought. Ideas like 'why' and 'when' and the more intriguing 'consequences', the 'what next' of events.

I shall most definitely get to kill lots of things tomorrow, and that will take me over the 50k mark. And from there, it will be a twisting, writhing journey to the ending I have planned.

Time to end the day, it's been a long one.

The little things

I'm having dongle issues, so I have to rely on dial-up until the new one arrives and it takes an annoying and frustrating amount of time to even log on.

Anyway, I am motoring along with the book - and waiting for the Nano techs to create the word count meter.

I do not plot, so Nano is true pantster writing for me. Sometimes... I hit a road block, which I have currently done. So I've stopped for the day to allow the subconscious to come up with a way through.

It occurs to me that the subconscious is the best tool for completing a task like Nano.

With the rush of the first few days, we manically set fingers to the keyboard and write whatever pops into our head - be it structured by plotting, or free writing - and move on to the next scene. But... our subconscious tells us everything we need to know about the work.

Usually, it is little things, things we don't consider important until much later when we decide we are brilliant. Most of the time, that's absolutely true. We come up with genius phrases, intriguing clues, dynamic characters who start off as total wankers we want to kill.

As we begin the next slog, those 'little things' become important; that wanker of a character suddenly saves the day, or provides an important foil to someone we've created in their place. That genius phrase becomes integral to the overall theme, and that intriguing clue we were so chuffed about... leads absolutely nowhere, but excludes a suspect.

By the end of the first week, a lot of writers have decided, "nah, bored now... oooh, Rage has been released!" And their bright and shiny work remains unfinished. It's a shame. With a little intestinal fortitude and patience, the work could be completed.

There is always time to write. Always. The daily amount of 1667 isn't so much when you're in the depths of action, or conversation or describing an alien world.

The little things we think so unimportant at the beginning are our subconscious giving us the carefully planted clues tocontinue writing and finish the book, even beyond 50,000 words. But it has another name, one that is sometimes derided and disdained as foolish. Pay attention, because it is the reason we write, the reason we go on. It is... the Muse, and one of the most valuable tools in a writer's arsenal.

Done for the day

Stick a fork in me, I'm done for the day.

I didn't stay up late and start Nano at midnight, but I did find myself waking early. So. I've been at the keyboard since about six a.m with a couple of hours off throughout the day for breaks. It's now just gone 7pm, and I suspect the parent wants feeding. I'm also tired.

The total word count is 8260. As soon as the Nano site has a widget organised, I'll post it here for word count updates.

The death toll so far is one marine and one rodent. I expect the toll to rise in the coming days.

Nano Eve

I didn't realise it's been over a week since my last post. Nothing to post about, I guess, although I could have gone on about the refereeing at the Rugby World Cup, Libya or the current furore over Qantas. I decided to keep my opinions to myself.

Anyway... I think I'm ready for Nano. I've got the first scene - which is nice and strong in my mind - and the characters, the scenery, a few villains and the end of the book. I'll find out what happens in between as I write.

What is it about? Well, I can only say it's set on an apparently 'empty' alien world during a galactic war; the combatants soon discover they're not as 'alone' as they thought.

As usual, there's no guarantee it will work, but the back-up plans for sequels are on standby. If it does work, then I'll get on with the rest.

Time to relax before the keyboard abuse.

New Toy

My new toy arrived - a netbook.

Needless to say, I've been fooling around with it.

The keyboard is small but workable - the larger keyboard won't plug in, so I'm keeping it with the now offline laptop. It doesn't have a dvd player, but it does have a card reader. I treated myself to one long Star Wars marathon... yes, okay and played some of the pre-loaded games.

It also has three times the hard drive space for all those nifty programs I like to use and for photographs.

I will use the netbook for surfin' and keep the laptop as a stand-alone computer for writing; that way, I shall have to change computers to use the internet. Inconvenient, but it will make me think before surfing willy-nilly.

For now, I need to get back to the Nano stuff... or maybe do some more exploring.

C'mon, I'll fight'cha!

Mmmm.... conflict; the element that keep readers reading. External or internal, psychological or physical, conflict - and the resolution - is central to any book.

No one wants to read about an ordinary day-in-the-life of the ordinary person on the street; an extraordinary day of an ordinary person, or an ordinary day in an extraordinary person, yes, otherwise, forget it.

Conflict makes the world go around, it gets people talking and thinking. No one but historians are interested in the pre-war talks between the Allies and Hitler. Hitler wanted a fight and he got one on a global scale. We're more interested in things like Dunkirk, the Battle of the Bulge, Midway, Pearl Harbour, D-Day, etc. If Hitler had said, "Yeah, okay. Just give me Sudetenland and we'll call it even." And been happy with it, the war wouldn't have happened (yes, right, someone else might have pull the trigger on the war, but that's not the point). If Napoleon had decided he had no interest in the rest of Europe, he'd be just another emperor of France. If Spain said to Queen Elizabeth, "You're a Protestant? Oh, okay, no big, carry on." What would she be remembered for?

Moving to fiction: Bilbo Baggins finds the Ring, hunts down Gollum and gives it back? Eve Dallas becomes a social worker rather than NYPD's top cop? Henry Jones, Jr, went into medicine rather than archaeology? Luke Skywalker stays on the farm, like his uncle wanted him to? Romeo and Juliet abide by their families wishes? Or my personal favourite, Honor Harrington contacts the peep ship Sirius and then lets them go to call off the invading force from Haven. The list goes on.

If done well, conflict creates the 'oh, shite' moment in the reader. Holly Lisle's Creating Conflict, or The Joys of Boiling Oil may interest you in creating conflict in your story.

But conflict isn't everything, you need strong characters. I can think of a number of books I've tried to read recently where the conflict was great, but the characters moaned, bitched and whined. I did not finish those books. I want strong characters put into awkward or dangerous positions. I want to feel for them, not roll my eyes and tell them to grow a spine. I want triumph over tragedy, justice for heinous crimes committed, vengeance taken after a struggle against the odds. In other words, I want a protagonist that's larger than life and an antagonist who isn't wholly good or bad but can legitimately justify their actions.

The Writers Digest article, How to Raise Your Characters Above the Status-Quo can help you flesh out a stronger character worth rooting for.

But for a quick character conflict, try thinking about your protagonist and what the worst thing you can do to them is. A doctor manipulated into killing a sick patient; a devout priest who is betrayed by his superiors; a politician blackmailed into betraying his principles (yeah, I know, they do it all the time, but...), a cop unable to protect and serve the innocent. There are plenty and the worse you screw up your noble character, the more interesting the conflict.

There are plenty of dilemmas you can toss your character into: ethical, moral, emotional, physical, pick one and run with it. If you keep the conflict in mind, you'll have a stronger story, one that can run the length of a book.

Do you feel it yet? The slight increase in your anxiety levels? That more and more you find yourself catching your bottom lip between your teeth? The slight distraction and gazing off into the distance and wondering? The feeling that time is running out? That October is draining away like water through your fingers?

What's causing it? One word: Nanowrimo.

It feels like it's sneaking up from behind, still lurking in the shadows. The hazy ideas for a 50,000 word book are creeping into the dreamscape, vaguely recalled on waking; characters are still blurred, near formless, but waiting; landscapes as dark and mysterious as the world before sunrise; plots call out in the darkness, then run away, giggling, to hide behind the dreaded writer's block.

Or... maybe that's just me.

November 1 looms, crawling ever closer, unstoppable. In less than 20 days, thousands of people will watch the clock tick over from October to November and begin a month-long outpouring of words. Some, most, will not finish. The bright and shiny ideas will fall victim to excuses as plots fail and characters get bored. People will shrug their shoulders and walk away as newer and shinier things distract them.

But some will finish, bask in the glow of the achievement and then go on to newer and shinier things.

To help peeps in their pursuit of writing that book, Jordan E. Rosenfeld has an article in Writers Digest: 10 Ways to Launch Strong Scenes; or try The devil is in the details an essay by Craig Clevenger on LitReactor.com about description.

I'll scare up more articles closer to the starting line. In the meantime, I need to go and flesh out the Post-Its (TM) I've written. One line per book is great, but, I don't know, I think it needs more than a one line summation. They need...

CONFLICT!!!

Really, Reilly?

I've been catching up on some reading, trying to downsize the ol' TBR pile - with limited success.

I'm onto my fourth in a week with a squillion to go. Why is it we know we don't have time to read, and yet continue to pile up the TBR?

Anyway, I read the Jack West, Jr. series by Matthew Reilly. My peeps recommended them, but after reading Temple, Ice Station and Area 7, I found it difficult to get past the eye-rolling.

Reilly writes fast-paced, action-filled books, but... also physically impossible things I found myself wincing at (a 747 on a runway can't neatly turn corners like cars can - especially at 140kph - without serious repercussions), there's a lot of loose writing (the passive sentences drove me crazy!) and not much emotional punch. He also has moments of pure genius. The Stonehenge thing in Seven Ancient Wonders was way cool.

If you can get past the wince-able moments, they're enjoyable reads. The action keeps you reading, the good guys up against impossible odds keeps you interested and the history/research is fascinating.

Will I buy more Matthew Reilly? I know what to expect in the books, there are few surprises and the endings are predictable. But that doesn't matter, it's the journey that counts, the adventure that sucks us in, so... maybe.

When old tech dies

The mouse, she is dead.

No, I didn't kill it, the poor thing was poisoned - by leaking battery acid. It's my second mouse in a year. The first has a partial failure; the cursor doesn't always highlight a complete sentence - which is annoying as hell when I'm trying to move text. So I bought a new one. It has a smaller USB... thingy and the cursor scooted around the page like a puppy on sugar. Marvy! But why do I have a separate mouse at all when laptops come with built-in ones?

Let me take you back in time, time, time...

I learned to type on a manual typewriter. A Remington. At business college. If we achieved our speed goals, we were rewarded with time on an electric typewriter, with a daisy wheel. Oh, how my fingers flew across the keys! But time was limited. In those days, no one had heard of RSI, or carpal tunnel syndrome. Why? Because manual typing teaches proper finger, hand and arm position. You have to lift your hands and arms for the correct pressure on the keys. None of this touch-typing which later caused so many problems.

Anyway, when computers came in I had to have one, clunky keyboard and all. Then the mouse appeared. Frabjus Day! No more memorising the F keys! Then laptops arrived, smaller, more compact, but I liked the full-size keyboard, so like a typewriter.

When my Pentium kicked the bucket - salt corrosion did for the motherboard (coastal living is dangerous, don't you know, to things electronic) - I decided on a laptop rather than a new desktop machine. I took the laptop overseas, something I obviously couldn't do with a desktop. While it was great, I found the keyboard annoying with it's lack of keys I like to use and the in-built mouse which I found awkward.

I have a full sized keyboard plugged in to the laptop so I can type as fast as I like without having to search for the right key (typwriter trained, remember?) and I have a mouse plugged in because I like the way it feels in the my hand and I'm not cramped up trying to use a small square and accompanying buttons. I can't use it one-handed like I can with a separate mouse.

Making computers smaller isn't necessarily a good thing, but I have to move on or risk moving to Ludditeville.

All things must come to an end. The laptop's system won't take updates anymore, it's becoming as slow as molasses and the memory is 1.5 gig with an 80 gig hard drive that's near full; with what I have no clue, nor will I buy one - a clue that is. Keeping up with modern technology is fast becoming a chore and a necessity. I refuse to buy an I-pad, it doesn't feel right and typing is, well, slow.

Instead, next week the new netbook arrives. It's smaller than the laptop and nearly half the width of my keyboard, but I'm plugging it in. All I need now is a you-beaut, new-fangled mouse to go with it.

But first, I'll remove the bodies of the other two; reverantly bury them and say a few words over their mortal remains - or simply toss them. This current mouse - the first one with the vanishing, temperamental cursor problem - is pissing me off.

I think I'll have just enough time to play with the new tech before Nano.

It's coming...

October, when a young writer's mind turns to... Nanowrimo.

In less than a month, thousands of writers across the world will lay fingers on the keyboard and deliberately abuse their computer. Characters that have nagged and niggled all year will demand on-page time, will audition for a role in a half-formed story line. Scenery is becoming clearer, clothes and weapons developing nicely. Plots are slowly becoming more solid, with endings waving from a distance.

In less than a month, thousands of writers across the world will lay fingers on the keyboard and deliberatly abuse their native language. Passive sentences will be shrugged off, flowery prose marveled at, end-of-sentence prepositions ignored. Cliches will abound, adjective abuse perpetrated and word counts hedged.

The bottom lip of Grammar Nazis will tremble, eyes will tear up and palsied hands will desperately point out the faults; all to no avail as ambitious writers crush the dessicated remains of style guides in the pursuit of 50,000 golden words...

...until obstacles block progress: A plot that doesn't stand up to 50k, weak characters, lack of committment, no time, can't find a suitable space, something more interestng to do, like... housework, watching the grass grow, painting the garage, golf.

More than ninety percent of those who start will fail to finish, will fail to find time during the day to write 1667 words. For every reason of failure, there are an equal number of reasons for success.

Nano is manic; a rush at the beginning, followed by hard yards and finally a rush to finish. It's frustrating, beguiling, exciting, tiring and temporarily corrupts the space-time continuum. But to reach that 50k mark, and beyond, to finish a book fills a writer with an overwhelming and addictive sense of accomplishment.

What more could you ask of a month-long word fest?

Neighbours from Hell

I don't think I've ever been so angry for so long.

Being threatened with legal action over an issue thought dealt with came as a bit of a shock - but it is a neighbourhood association on the other side of the fence.

The tree was beautiful, it was strong and had, for twenty years, withstood gale force winds with barely a murmur. It wasn't yet full grown when the president of the NA complained about leaves marring the driveway to the townhouses. That was in March. I spoke with one of the residents who basically said, 'pshaw, don't worry about it. We have a gardener who can sweep them up.' Silly me for taking her at her word.

I should also note that I told the president why we didn't want to take the tree down: it absorbs a hell of a lot of water from run-off through our backyard; the natural drainage channel was changed when the bloody 'houses were built - the local council declined to accept responsibility. It gives us shade from the ferocious Summer sun and it was a gift from a now deceased friend.

Then last month we get a letter: take the tree down or we'll see you in court. Why? Because the roots of the tree allegedly bent the fence and are undermining the driveway. The fence was built crooked and there's no evidence of warping in the driveway. Two points I made clear in replying to the lawyers' laughable letter:

...we wish to remain on good terms with our neighbours and seek your urgent co-operation so that this matter can be settled in a fair and acceptable way to all concerned.

Yes, a direct quote. How can it be 'fair' and 'acceptable' and remain on 'good terms' when the NA says 'take it down or we'll sue' while disregarding our arguments? Worse, this is all about the president and her demands. Knowing all the residents, they are condemned by their indifference to the issue.

So we got a final notice: you have 21 days or we're going to court. Much as I would have liked to stare them down across a courtroom, the worry had a detrimental affect on the elderly parent's health.

The tree is no more, taken down yesterday and turned into woodchips. And as upsetting as all this has been, vengeance shall be ours.

We're going to plant three lovely deciduous silver birches. In a few years, the president can watch the leaves change to gorgeous autumnal colours - and then pile up on her doorstep. Every. Damned. Year.