Music Moves the Savage Writer

I'll be the first to admit it--I was never someone who could listen to music all day, while studying, while working, while waiting around--I found it far too distracting.

Nevertheless, music is a convenient writer's tool. For the small cost of a few megabytes on your laptop or mp3 player, it's always at hand. It can transport you to a different place or a different time. It can block out extraneous noises by playing different noises in your ear. (I guess.) My doctoral dissertation soundtrack consisted of 17 songs on one CD, which I played on an endless loop while I was drudging away underground (basement lab). I even thanked "die neue deutsche Härte" band OOMPH! in my dissertation acknowledgements.

Would I have been able to block out the loud phone conversations that echoed from the office next door without my music? Maybe, but it was certainly easier with the beautiful, husky voice of OOMPH! frontman Dero Goi in my ears. "Jede Nacht genau der selbe Traum...such mich tief im Abgrund deines Traums, ich liege sechs Fuss tiefer...du suchst mich doch ich bin längst am Ziel..."

Ah...

Ahem. Yes, music is more than art, noise, or a diversion, if you're a writer. While working on The Fracture of a Dream, I sometimes struggled to see the world through the eyes of my characters. The character of Mer Pampero posed a problem, especially. Once just an average woman, she's embittered by the life she's led--rational, most of the time, a mother and wife fiercely protecting her family--but nevertheless filled with built-up resentment and hate. Of all of my characters, she was the one I could characterize the most easily, yet she remained the one whose thoughts I least understood.

I started using music as a way of getting inside her head, of finding her voice. Using the same song every time I wrote her dialogue helped me stay consistent for her character. But, no spoilers! I can't tell you what her song is. Eventually, I began ferreting out perfect songs for each of the protagonists.

Have you read The Fracture of a Dream? What do you think? Which songs best embody Dek Sundowner, Shanna Tramontane, and Mer Pampero? And if you're a writer, how do you use music in your own work? Leave your suggestions below!

Tune in next time,
Ren D. ;)

When Your Characters Have Become Real

To take a page from Margery Williams' The Velveteen Rabbit, specifically, a small part of the beautiful and oft-quoted passage about becoming Real:

"I suppose you are real?" said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse might be sensitive. But the Skin Horse only smiled. 

"The Boy's Uncle made me Real," he said. "That was a great many years ago; but once you are Real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always.” 

The characters of The Fracture of a Dream have been real to me for quite some time now.  Sometimes I'll see a photograph of a woman and think, "Ah, that's Shanna!" or hear a song that resonates perfectly with their storylines.

In fact, this painting by Myles Sullivan immediately drew my attention a few months ago:

Myles Sullivan, Rendezvous

"That's Dek! And Shanna...slightly leggier and more bombshell than I'd envisioned her, but definitely still Shanna. They look like they're having one of their intense (and silly) debates at their favorite bistro."

It was a reminder that I needed to continue their story.

Returning to them, telling more of their story, is like catching sight of a beloved friend you haven't seen for quite some time.  I feel a warmth and happiness to be reunited with my characters and wonder how their unwritten lives have passed since I last worked with them.

The only awkward part is that Dek and Shanna seem so real to me that, in the rewriting stage, adding new parts to their story felt like telling a lie. The way I told the story the first time -- to me, that was how all the events had come to pass.  It couldn't be altered.

I have to remind myself that reality is not black-and-white, as we like to think. We each perceive and interpret events, behaviors, and words in different ways.  And from Elizabeth Loftus' extensive work on the fallibility of memory, we also know that we mis-remember our own lives constantly.  Aside from these mundane "alternate" realities that occur normally, there are also the moments of our lives which simply aren't chronicled -- because that would be dull -- and introducing new scenes might just mean I'm telling the reader something that hadn't seemed important before.

Taking heart from the Skin Horse's words to the Rabbit, however, I like the idea that my characters continue to live on, even when I'm away from them, the threads of their lives rolling, looping, and knotting in new ways that I haven't yet imagined. I guess that's why there are sequels.

And I'm pretty sure Shanna's got a few secrets that are going to come out.  They usually do...eventually.

Stay curious,
Ren D.

The Trouble With Dreams

My novel-in-progress, The Fracture of a Dream, deals heavily with dreams (as you might guess from the title).  Dreams of the subconscious variety, dreams of sleepers, dreams of one's future goals -- all are fair game in my exploration of life and death.

Overall, we consider dreams to be important, necessary.  Mostly a positive concept to strive for.  That's why there are so many motivational graphics about "chasing your dreams" and "it's better to regret something you did than regret never doing it."  (I'm paraphrasing.)

But you know, dreams aren't always a good thing.

So, to stretch your brains today, I'd like you to complete the following sentence and then work it into a dialogue or passage of your own:

The trouble with dreams is _________.

A few ideas of my own:

• The trouble with dreams is you wake up at some point.
• The trouble with dreams is that nightmares are dreams, too.
• The trouble with dreams is not everyone's can come true.
• The trouble with dreams is they don't pay your bills.
• The trouble with dreams is sometimes you can't sleep.
• The trouble with dreams is they don't come true when you're flat on your back, paralyzed with sleep.

What did you come up with?

Rendy

Writer Versus Himself

Many of the things I do, and the ways I perceive the world, are colored by my training as a psychologist.

Currently, I'm neck-deep in every writer's personal, inner revolution:  editing.

I'm resisting.  Oh, I'm resisting.

My novel was outlined and planned out with a certain degree of logic before I got far in writing (around the 15,000-word mark).  I want certain events to happen, I want certain passages to stay intact...because they make sense that way.

(You can hear me arguing, I imagine.)

But when your thoughtful beta-reader respectfully disagrees, or when your reasonably sane-sounding writing-advice book Hooked, by Les Edgerton, tells you five red flags to avoid at all costs, it's time to stop being defensive and restrain yourself from throwing out the "buts."

But that part belongs there!
But I have a good reason for doing it that way!
But I worked so hard on it, and *I* love it!
But I'm the writer!  Don't I know what's best?

Yep, I've been there, struggling along with the rest of my writer brethren.  I know the feeling of unwillingness to bend to someone else's will.  I know the feeling of total rebellion in the form of apathy:  "Who cares?  I'm doing it my way!"  In my most recent situation, I've been fighting the edict that I must rewrite my first chapter entirely.  I really did plan this chapter a certain way, and it plays a parallel to both the ending and the resolution of the first climactic point...but I need to let go of my defensiveness.

Perhaps, ultimately, it might be better for my novel if I keep the original first chapter.  However, I won't know until I attempt, openly and non-selfishly, to find an alternate beginning.  It could be there.

I was telling myself, "But there's just no other way that beginning, with the same logic and parallels, can come about!"  I realized, of course, that this is ridiculous.  I'm writing fiction.  Thus, there can and will be a new beginning.  I've challenged myself, as a creative writer, to find a solution to the problem and make it work even better than the original solution did.

And I will.

So it's back to the plotting board, as we plotters say.  Push on through, fellow editing-revolutionaries!

Ren D.

The Ties That Bind Us

As a writer with a psychological bent, I often examine my own interactions with the people around me, probing the boundaries, fingering the threads and knots.  I've done this since I was prepubescent, working out who got along well with whom, how to diffuse tense situations, how to tailor my approach to a person when I wanted to ask a favor.  I'd like to say the ability comes naturally, but it doesn't.

I'm still the master of social gaffes.  I sometimes work against myself.

But there's a beauty in the way people are connected -- some bonds stronger, taut, steady...others thin, wispy, barely sustained.  Complicated.  There's the mother who would sacrifice anything for her child, yet she hardens her heart with jealousy, eyeing her thriving child, born into privileges she herself was not fortunate enough to have.  There's the broken criminal, brusquely keeping the other inmates in line with threats and muscle, but whose thoughts turn to the younger brother he left on the outside, barely a teen and now fending for himself and their younger siblings.

A story can take place anywhere, any time, in any setting.  But it's the relationships between the characters that draw me in.  So I don't rule out any particular genre.  I'll read mysteries, sci-fi, fantasy...anything, if the author catches me with some good relationship tension.  So how are your characters connected?  Are the ties overt, simple?  Or hidden, snarled?

Sure, I love a good relationship.  Does that mean I write romance?  No.  In fact, I find relationships that are barbed with awkwardness, conflicted feelings, and hardships to be the most interesting.

I also love to get deep down into a character's biggest soft spot.  His or her true devotion, whatever he or she most wants to protect.  Whom does Dek Sundowner most want to protect?  The answer may not be so obvious...

Keep loving,
Ren D.

Just Once, Metamorphosis

I think every creative person should be allowed to undergo a metamorphosis at least once without seeming inconsistent and a tad flaky (unless you're The Artist Not Really Known As Madge...then I suppose you've got free license to make yourself over anytime, as many times as you want).

As springtime approaches (in the Northern Hemisphere), it's the perfect time to think about the theme of change and renewal. Whether it's change in the form of editing and rewriting, or growth and dynamism in your characters, or even your own development and improvement as a writer, change is normal, natural, and virtually always going to happen. (In your stories, it better happen! Why else are you telling the story? To show how nothing changes?)

Often a story will approach a character in a way that shows him or her growing and changing, perhaps breaking free of convention or the bonds of static friends who hold the character back. It can be just as interesting, I find, for the character to be stuck, repeating the same mistakes, as this can make a point to the reader as well. (I think we all know people who are like that, don't we? Stuck, trapped...) In The Fracture of a Dream, Dek seems to be a spectator as life -- as even nature itself -- lives and thrives around him, while he finds himself stagnant. The people around him change, but he can't seem to move on himself or alter the path his life is taking. He may think he has some semblance of agency, to drive his actions, but it doesn't get him far.

Does it make a difference in where Dek ends up?

You'll have to read to find out.

Don't "stay anything," readers! Be bold and change. :)

Ren D.

Time Markers

I wish this were a post about a fantastic set of felt-tip markers that, when used, could manipulate the fabric of space and time.  Sounds like a great children's independent reader series, actually.  However, when devotees of art say that great art is transporting, I don't think that's what they mean.

I'm writing, of course, about the little signals that show us the passage of time in a film, TV show, or piece of writing.  People talking about back-to-school shopping indicate that summer is ending (no!) and that autumn is on its way.  Jack o' lanterns, cornucopias, lawn Santas, Christmas trees, and pink doily cupids give away similar clues about the time of year in which a story takes place.

When you write, and your story takes place over the course of several months (or years), how do you convey that information?  Do you use the holidays?  Do you simply state the day of week or time of year?  Do you describe your characters' (hopefully weather-appropriate) clothing or mention the meal they are eating?  If the time of day or year isn't important, do you forgo time markers completely?  Human life is so inextricably linked to the passage of time that we often use time markers without even noticing or thinking about it.

Time is important to the characters of The Fracture of a Dream.  It takes place mostly across a timespan of one year, so descriptions of the seasons were my method of marking the time.  Dek is a character with a strong affinity for nature, so this also followed quite logically.  I also wanted to avoid the assumption that my characters might celebrate any religiously linked holiday.  Dek and his friends are solidly American, but they may not share all aspects of the culture that the majority of Americans consider to be a given.  Trust me.  With what Dek's going through in his life, remembering holidays is not high on his list of priorities.

And on that note, I wish you a happy new year, fellow readers and writers.  May your 2013 be everything you dream it will be.

Ren D.

What's in a Place?

Where do you go to work?  Specifically, where do you go to write?

Every writer has his or her own process, and the writing environment is part of it.  Reportedly, Maya Angelou owns three homes but maintains a hotel room where she goes daily to do her writing.  Leo Tolstoy was rumored to lock himself away in his study while working and not come out for days or more.  Zadie Smith has been heard to say that one's writing computer should not have access to the Internet (I agree! Look up words later!), which can certainly be an unseen, mental component of one's environment.

On the other hand, some research studies have suggested that a little bit of ambient noise actually fosters creativity (particularly for people who are already highly creative), so I imagine there are many writers (J.K. Rowling comes to mind as a famous example) who may do much of their writing in cafes.  If you're interested in reading about that research, a shorter description is here, and a longer one is here.

Personally, I need complete silence to write.  It's hard enough immersing my mind into the fictional world I am creating, especially if my environment doesn't match what I'm writing at the time (such as writing about a bitter winter in the middle of a breezeless summer), blocking out extraneous noises would require too much mental effort.  At least I can comfort myself with the tidbit that Virginia Woolf herself was constantly getting distracted by the noises in her environment!  I always write on my computer (longhand would be far too slow for me), and an uncluttered, unadorned space is best for my concentration.  I find sitting becomes uncomfortable after several hours, so I also try changing positions when I can.

If I can dream, I believe that a secluded spot outdoors, perhaps in the forest, would probably be my dream location for writing (perhaps I'm channeling Emerson or Thoreau! I wish, right?), but having no access to such a working space, I have to content myself with writing late at night at home, when the world is (relatively) silent.  I'm sure my electric company just loves the energy I burn night after night!

For fun, take a look at some images of famous writers' writing sanctuaries: here, here, and for some more contemporary writers, here.  Are you jealous of those beautiful book-filled wooden studies or what?  There are some other great examples here.

Ren D.

Conversational Glitter, Lack Of

I'd never tell writers or other artists to associate with more creative types in order to discover ideas, though it's true that some of my best ideas and best conversations came from spending time with others who were high in creativity.  With these friends, ideas flew, possibilities hung amply ready for plucking, and our minds worked together in overdrive.  They almost felt fertile.

I had a good friend in college who was my conversational glitter.  He was both a writer and an artist, and we had fabulous discussions about utterly ridiculous, offbeat situations.  Conversations with him could go anywhere.  Picnics could happen at midnight.  Chocolate syrup could be blood, in the right lighting.

As often happens, friends grow apart.  A few years later, I entered a doctoral program, and we slowly lost touch.  I was surrounded by a very different type of person in my graduate program -- it wasn't that everyone was serious and dull (they really weren't!) -- it was just that there was no room for the absurd.  Ideas were concrete; they needed to be quantifiable.  Anything out of the realm of the ordinary was regarded as strange and frightening.

I thrived in the intellectual environment, but my chances to be delighted by the whimsical and thought-provoking simply shriveled up.  I no longer had my conversational glitter.  It's a loss I still feel; no one has come close to matching the likes of my imaginative (not imaginary!) and very intelligent friend.

Though some of the flights of fancy described in The Fracture of a Dream were definitely inspired by silly conversations with friends and my own late-night solitary musings, I can't help but feel like I would be more fruitful, more interesting, if I were surrounded by other creative types who have a sense of humor for reinventing the mundane.

Not every writer (or artist) needs a friend to help recharge one's creativity, but I've realized that, for me, it's practically required.

Ren D.

To Mix Some Metaphors

It can take me a long time to get something written down, even when I'm excited about the idea and already have thoughts on how I'll handle the topic.

I've found that when I wait like this, though, almost as if I'm letting the idea steep in my brain, so that the flavors can unfurl and mix so that they don't feel forced or incongruous, the scene manages to play itself out, leading naturally to the next event I want to introduce.  The other details trickle in slowly, infusing their little quirks into the spaces that are left, until the idea seems heavy and full, ready to be spilled out onto paper.

Once the idea begins to percolate (ha!), that's when I sit down at the computer and type the scene out madly.  Naturally, I may add or rewrite parts later, but after the steeping process, the idea has generally found its own solid footing, whatever meaning it brings to the story, and the other necessary details have fallen into place.  At that point, I often feel as though the scene could never have happened any other way.

R.D.

Productivity, The Elusive

Oh, productivity.  You are as elusive as the ice cream man when I am craving an artificially colored, novelty-shaped popsicle.  Sometimes I can hear you, but I can't see you -- and that's as helpful to me as subscribing to weather reports for cities in which I don't live.

I heard that people do this.  I'm not talking about myself or anything.

I was trying oh-so-hard to work on The Fracture of a Dream while I was out of town last month, but I have to confess it really didn't work.  Every day, there were other things I had to do.  E-mails to answer, errands to run, people to see, requests for other urgent work to be completed...

I'm sure you know what I mean.

Even when I'm trying to write in the comfort of my own home, I struggle with the other tasks that come up.  Many people don't understand that I am working (and that I do not answer phone calls or reply to e-mails during that time) and make demands on me to complete some unnecessary task or another.  They perceive their work to take priority over my own.

I'm even guilty of abusing my e-mail's vacation auto-responder to pretend I am away on delightful trips when I'm actually not.  ("Just leave me alone" is a little rude, you see.)  I do still want to have friends, family, and colleagues once I am done with my current writing project.

Aside from using productivity software such as RescueTime (I used this while completing my doctoral dissertation) to hold me accountable for my time, I've had trouble sticking to a set-in-concrete writing schedule.  Sometimes, as much as I hate errands and other small jobs, they must be done.

Anyone out there in Internetland have some advice for me?

Ren D.

Uh-Oh, Editing & Rewriting!

Sometimes you're writing and writing and writing, and you realize what you've written previously doesn't work.  Maybe plotholes are blooming all over the page; maybe you've just got a tough inner critic.  (Oh man, what if that picky inner critic is right?!)  You hate the idea of scrapping it all and starting over, or you hate the idea of picking over your words to be sure you said what you meant to say (surely everything you write comes out baby-perfect?).  But it's okay.  Editing and rewriting can and must be done.

In my case, I can't always get the perfect word to come to mind at the "write" time.  (Yeah, dumb pun. You got me...I'm sorry.)  Sometimes I even get the meaning totally wrong.  When I read over older passages, I catch awkward phrasing and and overuse of the same words.  Sometimes a passage is clear to me, but upon re-reading, I realize it wasn't written clearly at all.  On the days when I don't feel like working on something new, I go back to what I've already written and examine it.  It requires my editor's eye to be alert, of course, but editing something that's already written is easier than filling up a blank page.

During my writing process for The Fracture of a Dream, I had to change several scenes because Dek, the protagonist, was not the dynamic character he needed to be.  Too often, he was passive, allowing things to happen to him and finding himself in situations rather than putting himself into them. I would personally hate reading about such a milquetoast character ("Do SOMETHING, man!"), so I knew this wouldn't do for my precious Dek.

I deleted some scenes entirely, changed the way his behavior and reactions were described, and reversed the dialogue for some of the other characters.  The way the final scene plays out changed significantly.

You may not agree with what Dek chooses to do in the end, and your interpretation of who he is as a man may vary, but at least Dek isn't the lost soul being pushed around by fate that he was before.

Back to work, friends!

Ren D.

Where I've Come From on My Writer's Journey

I've been writing fiction since I was a child, inspired by the thousands of wonderful books (and their authors*) that I devoured, flying from cover to cover, book to book.

I never got to take a course in creative writing.  I just knew writing was fun, and I loved to do it.

When I was in middle school (Go Cards!) and high school (Go Vikes!), I was fairly prolific and wrote pages upon pages of adventure stories, starring my friends in quirky situations.  I wrote about calculators, people's shoes, penguins learning to cook, purple monkeys, shrunken apple heads, and much more nonsense that I don't care to admit to these days.

I even won a handful of writing contests.  They don't mean anything to anyone now, but I'll always recall them with a little pride.

It was easier back then.  I remember summer afternoons jamming out pages of dialogue, single-spaced in the smallest font possible, laughing to myself as I got my unsuspecting friends in and out of bizarre situations.  I didn't overthink every word.

My audience consisted of my friends, so I didn't understand the concept of character development.  I didn't need it -- everyone knew the characters in my stories and what they were like.

And, GUILTY, almost all of my stories were left unfinished.  I even titled one of the stories "The Unfinished Story of..." because I knew I'd never finish it, even from the start.  Either I didn't know when (or how) to end a story, or as it often happened, I started writing with enthusiasm, only for that enthusiasm to peter out as I got more involved in schoolwork.

When I began thinking seriously about a writing career, I knew I would have to stop leaving stories unfinished.  As far as I know, most people don't like to be left hanging, wondering if their books are missing the last few pages.  Thus, The Fracture of a Dream started off with an ending, and I planned the major events and timeline clearly before I began writing.

Details changed as I began the actual writing process, of course, but having the structure of a planned plot has allowed me to write the story out of order and leave parts unwritten when the details were not yet clear to me.  It's worked out very well for me, and I completely intend to model future writing projects on this one.

Ren D.

*No authors were harmed in my childhood quest to read the entire library.  Lest you think I'm a cannibal, I didn't actually devour any authors -- just their inspiring ideas!

My Weird Little Paranoia

I have this paranoia that I will accidentally steal ideas from books that I read or TV shows and movies that I watch, especially without realizing I've done so (see Helen Keller's experience with her story "The Frost King").

It was this reason that ultimately kept me from pursuing creative writing instruction in college.  I was afraid of being "tainted" by formal training and wanted to keep my ideas "pure."  (I promise you I am not really a narcissist...well, not that much, anyway.)

It's rare for any theme or idea to be truly unique, I believe, but I've been extreme about avoiding other fiction while writing.  This is totally counter to the advice of some writers, but it keeps me feeling more secure.

I've been sticking to reading non-fiction works for the last year, and this practice had the interesting side effect of forming a springboard for new ideas for The Fracture of a Dream, ideas that I knew I could not have "stolen" from what I read, because I had to fictionalize them and put them into new contexts.

What do all of you think?  Read more fiction while writing fiction?  Don't read fiction at all?  Read within your genre, or read outside it?  I'm curious about what works for other writers.

Lia B.