Category Archives for On writing

Weather Changes

Snow is coming down in buckets today in London. Winter is well and truly here to stay.

I huddle down under layers and layers of cardigans and t-shirts and tank tops, artfully ordered to make the combination look semi-intentional. I wrap my fingers around steaming cups of tea, clutching the porcelain so tightly I burn my palms while the backs of my hands remain frozen.

I don’t mind the cold, in small doses. But the onset of winter brings about a strange restlessness, a cabin fever. Part of me wants to stay snug at home, under my duvet. The other part is frustrated that the weather’s so miserable, because all of a sudden staying at home seems a necessity rather than a choice.

There’s something about the winter that makes me write better, though. Perhaps I go out less, have more time to think and edit. Maybe it’s the channelling of that restlessness into creativity. Maybe it’s my way of dealing with Seasonal Affective Disorder. Who knows.

I’ve been quiet on the fridayflash front, but I have been busy writing.

I’m working on a short story horror/dark fantasy anthology which I plan to release early next year. Some of the stories are old fridayflashes, edited and reworked and repurposed. Others are brand new tales. All of them are around the same theme.

Writing around a theme has really pushed my creativity to its limits. How to write a solid number of stories about one particular topic without making them all sound the same?

I am, ultimately, left-brained. While I consider myself a pantser, I always have a plan. I like to do lists and schedules and calendars and deadlines. I like to do lists OF to do lists. So I approached the anthology problem as logically as possible.

I gave myself ten minutes and wrote down every possible storyline I could think of. Then I told myself I couldn’t use any of those, because they’re the obvious plots, the clichés.

That’s where the real work started. Every single story idea I’ve had in the last few months has been twisted to fit my theme. I keep a detailed list, try to avoid similar plots, similar protagonists, similar voices and moods. I take disparate story prompts and mash them up together.

Sometimes it’s like pushing a square peg into a round hole, but I keep trying anyway, keep trying until one day the weather changes, and it works.

Lessons in Livewriting

On Monday November 22nd, somewhere approaching midnight, I became a livewriting survivor. Why? Because I had just finishing livewriting Chapter 6 of my current webfiction Between Worlds (Book 2 of the Above Ground series).

“Livewriting?” I hear you say. “What is livewriting?” For your viewing pleasure, an excerpt from the AMH English Dictionary:

* * * * *

LIVEWRITE
[liv-rahyt] verb, live·wrote; live·writ·ten; live·writ·ing

1. to express or communicate in writing at the time of viewing; a writing performance
2. to form characters, words, etc. on a screen before a live audience, using a keyboard or similar means: Livewrite your story in Google Docs
3. to produce as an author by setting down words before a live audience: to livewrite three novels

Origin
circa October 2009; 1889 Labs.
—Can be confused: liveblogging
—Synonyms: insanity, lunacy, silliness.

* * * * *

Despite reading MCM’s how-to guide, as well as his rules for livewriting, I still bungled things up. I’m starting to think that’s the point of livewriting, actually.

Four things I learned from my first attempt at livewriting:

1. Be prepared

If you’re going to be writing before a live audience, you really need to know what you’re going to be writing about. You need an outline. There’s no time to think. Unfortunately I lost my outline ten minutes before the start and couldn’t find it, which meant my chapter went WAY off-track and broke some plot points. But it was fun!

You’ve also got no time for bathroom breaks or to get that glass of water or to run around the house looking for your laptop charger (guilty as charged). So be prepared!

2. Use your audience!

Livewriting is by its nature interactive. It’s not a one way you-write-they-read process. So when you’re planning things in Step 1, make sure to plan for places where readers can make suggestions. You need to strike a fine balance for these: if you only let readers pick insignificant details like how many grapes a character eats, they’ll feel ripped off, but if you give them too much power they’ll derail your chapter entirely.

It was also nice to sit back a little and let my readers chat to each other while I took a small breather from writing. It’s interesting to see their live thoughts and reactions to your writing, and judge what’s working and what isn’t.

3. Forget about editing

Livewriting is basically a hardcore version of NaNoWriMo. Non-stop writing, get the words down, and don’t you dare go back and edit because there’s no time and no point. Yes, it can get silly, but you can always edit at a later date after the livewriting period is over.

I wrote a chapter of 1,400 words in about 40 minutes. After editing out some of the sillier suggestions and fixing the plot holes, I ended up with a 1,800 word chapter. That’s about double my normal input.

4. Have a glass of wine ready

When you’re done panicking livewriting the adrenaline high kicks in. Make sure you’ve got a glass nearby to celebrate surviving! And whatever you do, skilfully avoid requests for a repeat performance any time in the near future unless you’re sure your heart can take it.

Livewriting is not for the faint hearted. It’s panic-inducing, thrilling, entertaining, and often very silly, but it lets you connect with your readers in a way you generally don’t. It’s an art, a performance, an act of insanity.

I think MCM should start a support group.

On Marathon Writing

One reason National Novel Writing Month — or NaNoWriMo, for those in the know — does not appeal to me is that I have never been a marathon runner. I’m a kindling, a firefly. I burn bright and fierce and am gone tomorrow.

I’ve never been the sporty type. At school I had to do two years of cross country (it was either that or a team sport, yuck.) I was stick thin, all bone and muscle, training three or four times a week for our races against other schools. And I didn’t do too badly, either. But I cheated.

Where my best friend would maintain a steady plodding pace, unfaltering, unwaving, I sprinted. Sprint and walk, sprint and walk. My energy came in bursts, and I recovered quickly. I tried to change but the races where I forced myself to maintain a steady pace were my worst. Perhaps I am just not built for the long haul.

The same applies to my writing.

Write 1,667 words in a day? Fine. Been there, done that. Write 1,667 words a day every day on the same story for 30 days? No thank you.

A marathon is about being committed to one goal to the exclusion of all else, and I have my fingers in far too many pies for that. I’d get bored working on the same project all the time, so I work on many projects in many sprints.

It’s Monday night! I’m supposed to update my webfiction on Tuesday. Sprint, sprint, sprint! Phew, that’s over. I’ll stroll for a bit until… Oh noes, I’m behind on my schedule for that short story anthology! Sprint again! And when that’s dusted I’ll take a week off fiction and write book reviews.

I’d rather run loads of little races than one big one. It keeps me fresh, keeps me challenged. It avoids that dreaded mid-race slump where nothing seems worthwhile anymore and the finish stretches further and further away.

And if you add up all the sprints, well then I guess I am a marathon writer. Just a cheating one.

Writing is Breathing

First comes denial. I’ve overwhelmed at work, the house needs cleaning, the magazine needs editing, the website needs tweaking… It’s not my fault I have no time to write! As soon as all this gets done I’ll be back in the writing seat, no problem.

Then comes bargaining. I’m a organizer, a to-do list lover, a calender maker. I schedule in time to write. Sure, I can’t do it today, but tomorrow I’ll do TWO slots instead of one. I’ll be caught up in no time, right?

Then I watch the deadlines on the calender zoom past me and depression sets in. Nothing I write is good enough. And since writing is the only thing I’m supposed to be good at, well I’m not good at anything else, either.

“The reason writer’s block is so painful is because writers really do hurt when they’re not writing (whether they’re cognizant of it or not). Writers need to write the way most other people need to breathe and when they are not writing, writers grieve. They mope. They wallow.”
– From The five stages of writer’s block

It’s very easy for me to convince myself that I have no time to write. The house needs cleaning, I’m tired, there’s so much work-work to be done, I need to schedule and plan Ergofiction articles, write book reviews for Quillsandzebras, not to mention blog posts, Twitter socialising, manic marketing for the upcoming Other Sides…. Busy, busy, busy. But either very little of it is productive work, or I let the importance of writing slip far down to the bottom of my list.

That’s why — however hard I find it to write on a daily basis — I’m thankful for the Novel Push Initiative. Even when every word is a momentous struggle, I have no excuses and must at least try. I tell myself it’s keeping me sane. It probably is.

How do you make sure you dedicate enough time to writing?


If you’re a writer and haven’t yet heard of iggi U’s DIY MFA you should check it out as there is a wealth of useful posts on creativity, writing, and more.

Writing is for Readers

As the editor for Ergofiction magazine, one of my current responsibilities is to ‘commission’ and coordinate guest posts for our Saturday slots. The topics covered are rather diverse, but as long as they are directed at readers and relate to online fiction, we’re good!

Directed at readers? you ask.

Yes: Ergofiction is an ezine for readers and fans of (free) online fiction. Therefore it makes sense to write directly to these people. Yet a stumbling block I often run into is that writers submit ideas or posts that are not written for readers, but for other writers, such as advice on how to start writing an online serial, or detailed descriptions on craft. And a quick glance through my favourite author blogs turns up posts on writing tips and tricks, editing rants, discussions on the publishing process, and other similar topics.

As a writer, I find these topics interesting. And of course most writers are avid readers. But not all readers are avid writers. Shouldn’t we be writing to them? After all — as the Year Zero motto says — writing is for readers.

When we’re writing fiction, that seems obvious. Of course we’re writing for readers! Who else would read that dystopian erotic alien thriller? But when it comes to non-fiction, there is that little old stumbling block: what in the world do readers want to hear about, other than our stories?

It’s something I must give a lot of thought to as I hunt around for guest posts. What do you think?

Active in the online fiction community and interested in writing a guest post for Ergofiction? Please drop me a line with your ideas.