First of all, I have to confess that Camp NaNoWriMo was a spectacular failure this time around. I somehow thought I could revise my manuscript, take online courses, see friends and family, and job-hunt in earnest while traveling for almost five weeks.
I make myself laugh. None of that happened in April. I barely slept. As usual, I made myself ill.
But you know what did happen? I found the time to read a few books on my to-read list.
Click, by Ori and Rom Brafman, was among one of my stacks, and much like their book Sway, the narrative was both interesting and highly readable. Great storytelling job. Click deals with that special sort of "magic" we encounter -- whether it's an unexpected love connection, a number of complicated factors coming together just so perfectly all at random, or even just the feeling of being "in the zone" while working on a project.
The idea is fascinating, of course. You probably aren't aware of this, but there's something you use every day that's the product of one of the "clicks" discussed in the book. Can you guess what it is?
That mystery aside, Click got me thinking about those special people we have in our lives -- the ones we take a shine to right away, the ones we know will be our best friends as soon as we meet. These are the friends we can fill hours with, chatting away, the ones we trust with our spare keys and secrets, the ones with whom we can pick up where we left off after years of separation, no discomfort or reacclimatization needed. (Don't worry; I'm going somewhere with this.)
We are our best selves, our most unguarded, authentic selves when we are with these people. And, in our writing? When our characters are with someone with whom they click...that's when our readers (and we, as writers) get a dose of who they are, really. Their unfiltered personalities, their motivations, their anxieties, their dreams -- all these vibrancies can come through, if you get these characters together with the right person.
Many people act differently or speak differently, according to the situation they're in or the people they are with. (These social chameleons are generally known as high self-monitors, in case you're interested. They're always managing the impressions they leave behind.) This behavior is perfectly natural. It can make for a confusing character, however, when you're developing your protagonist. How can your readers get a good sense of who the character is, without needing you to tell them directly?
Get your character into a good click situation. Then, just let go. Whoever your protag is, just let that personality flow out onto the paper.
Ren D.
The writing blog of Ren Diller, author of literary fiction novel The Fracture of a Dream.
Monday, May 6, 2013
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
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.
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.
Thursday, March 28, 2013
What I Did Last Summer...I Mean, This Coming April
Anyone else taking part in Camp NaNoWriMo next month? I'm excited to be participating (though I'm extremely stressed out -- I'll be traveling, job-hunting, and taking courses at the same time). Nevertheless, after a successful (and productive) trial with NaNoWriMo last November, I feel pretty confident about tackling a reduced word count. If I happen to write more -- all the better!
I'd love to hear from my fellow Wrimos. What are you working on, what are you hoping to accomplish in April?
Stay writery,
Ren D.
Friday, March 15, 2013
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.
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.
Monday, February 11, 2013
Crayons and a Cardboard Heart
Sometimes we pour our hearts into finding (or making) the perfect gift for someone we love. That gift may represent unspoken hopes, such as the wish to share a future together, or the desire to see a loved one find success. The gift may be a reminder, letting the recipient know the giver is present, perhaps not physically but in mind. The gift may carry a message -- "Don't forget me" or "I'm thinking of you."
Overall, gifts are a lovely notion. We enjoy giving them; we enjoy receiving them.
Unfortunately, at times gifts may be given out of obligation, guilt (apology roses don't smell as sweet, eh?), or purely as a social leverage technique, an attempt to curry favor or achieve some other end.
The latter reason is overt, and therefore, not quite as interesting to me. Gifts of obligation and guilt are fascinating, however. Is it not enough to convey "I'm sorry" or make amends via words and more meaningful actions (such as doing something that was neglected or trying not to repeat an infraction)? Do gifts smooth the road, make the recipient forget the giver's wrongdoing? Does the giver want to weigh down the recipient with a reminder of what went wrong?
Sure makes it hard to forgive and forget.
Why not eschew the obvious, why not give simple gifts that carry the same message? Being around for a person in need. Taking the time to listen to a problem or to support someone who doesn't receive a lot of caring. Remembering things that are important to your loved ones. These small actions may bring big rewards. Letting a friend or lover know that they are important, that they are special to you, these are gifts that are far-reaching.
They will be remembered, and you will be remembered, because the effort and time required for such gifts of oneself come from a place that does not take credit cards. There's no returning them, and they are one-of-a-kind, intended for just that recipient and something that can only be given by you.
What do you think? If you've been wronged, would you rather someone woo themselves back in your favor by spoiling you with a gift or two, or would you rather see redress of a more emotional or proactive nature?
And what if you're the wrongdoer? What do you do to return to someone's good graces?
Ren D.
Overall, gifts are a lovely notion. We enjoy giving them; we enjoy receiving them.
Unfortunately, at times gifts may be given out of obligation, guilt (apology roses don't smell as sweet, eh?), or purely as a social leverage technique, an attempt to curry favor or achieve some other end.
The latter reason is overt, and therefore, not quite as interesting to me. Gifts of obligation and guilt are fascinating, however. Is it not enough to convey "I'm sorry" or make amends via words and more meaningful actions (such as doing something that was neglected or trying not to repeat an infraction)? Do gifts smooth the road, make the recipient forget the giver's wrongdoing? Does the giver want to weigh down the recipient with a reminder of what went wrong?
Sure makes it hard to forgive and forget.
Why not eschew the obvious, why not give simple gifts that carry the same message? Being around for a person in need. Taking the time to listen to a problem or to support someone who doesn't receive a lot of caring. Remembering things that are important to your loved ones. These small actions may bring big rewards. Letting a friend or lover know that they are important, that they are special to you, these are gifts that are far-reaching.
They will be remembered, and you will be remembered, because the effort and time required for such gifts of oneself come from a place that does not take credit cards. There's no returning them, and they are one-of-a-kind, intended for just that recipient and something that can only be given by you.
What do you think? If you've been wronged, would you rather someone woo themselves back in your favor by spoiling you with a gift or two, or would you rather see redress of a more emotional or proactive nature?
And what if you're the wrongdoer? What do you do to return to someone's good graces?
Ren D.
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