The Myth That is Writer’s Block

I hate to sound like a dick — and I’m really not — but writer’s block is an excuse for many other things. Writers are writers and they write.

Or they are a doctor, a garbage man, a housewife, a secretary who writes stories. There’s a varying gap between a writer and one who writes, depending on their level of dedication, experience and, most important of all, leisure time. I call it leisure time, but that just means ‘time to do what you love doing’. For a writer, writing is a job; something they do on a regular basis, whether they want to or not, or the electric bill doesn’t get paid. It’s as simple as that.

I don’t consider myself a writer. Sure, I’ve been paid for short fiction and enjoyed exposure through blogs and bloggers who’ve showcased my writing, but until I’ve made enough in one lump to pay a bill, I’m a wannabe — but a wannabe who eventually will be able to pay a bill doing what I love to do.

Keep your shirt on; I’m getting to the writer’s block thingy. Which really is just a name for a triple threat I like to call ‘being a pussy’. “Writer’s block” goes a little something like this:

a) you’re not feeling inspired; you lack the ambition to finish what you’ve started and will try selling yourself any dumb ass excuse you can to justify just giving up. b) either subconsciously or consciously, you know you need feedback, to discuss the particular section you’re working on, but can’t seem to find anyone around you to either commiserates or care about your ‘hobby’ . c) You’re scared; scared of failing, of not being as good as you think, of what your dear saint of a mother will think — or so fucking afraid that you might actually finish it and not know what the hell to do next. I feel your pain, I really do, but it’s not something tangible or solid; a wall that stops you like a runner nearing the finish line.

For the fearful child in you:

You are the prophet of every single nuance of your soul. Everything you’ve ever done or dreamed of doing is right there in your head, waiting to be translated into the realization of one or more of those dreams. Let it out. Pop the top off those bottled up fancies and dump them all over the page. Stop worrying about how others may or may not understand, like or even care about what you have to say.

For the uninspired part of you:

This may sound silly, but I find inspiration in everything I see, feel, that hurts me, helps me, or leaves me indifferent. At times, 95% of the writing I do doesn’t take place anywhere near my computer. I’ll make what I call a ‘head movie’ of what I’d like to have happen for, like, ten chapters, then I let it stew for a while, play it back, play it back again and again, and then I hit the computer. This process has sometimes taken more than a few days. I’m not saying you should shun the computer and not write down anything you feel just has to written down RIGHT NOW. This is only for when you are unsure of the story’s direction. Again with the silly: During times of indecision, I will lay in my hammock in the backyard, watching the sky, the squirrels, listen to the odd sound a tree branch makes as it draws like a bow across a violin against the backboard of my son’s basketball net. Or I’ll watch people from afar and give them a life and past that I create in my head. I initially didn’t think of this as any sort of exercise for the ‘writer’ in me. I just like to daydream. It could be that this is good exercise for the mind, or it could just be a good way to clear your mind of what’s really bothering you. Sometimes, issues within your writing can choke creativity, but if you dwell on it, a constipated mind is right around the corner.

Think no one cares (i.e., family and friends)? Well, they don’t — not really — but they sure as hell will when the advance comes for your first novel. Don’t hate them. They just can’t seem to equate you, the same person who can squirt milk out their nose on demand or pisses all over the toilet seat (even when it’s up), as an intellectual-type writer — which you really, really are. Don’t hate them for feeling this way. Also, don’t badger them to help you read a scene, a chapter (unless they want to), because their opinion is tainted by the aforementioned random body squirts. Instead, talk to (not AT) other writers. They can help, even if you don’t really have an issue you can label as an ‘issue’. In a sort of symbiotic way, writers are the best cure for each other. An idea you had but can’t seem to give legs to may have a simple solution that another will give to you gratis. Flip side of the coin: you help another writer with a problem they have and gain a little confidence from the effort which may snowball into a breakthrough in your own writing.

Okay, so are we clear? There is no such thing as writer’s block. Period.

p.s. If none of this shit works, go see a shrink; you have bigger problems than a case of stunted inspiration.

The Most Excellent Christopher Moore

Last week, I attended my first book signing. I’d always hoped my own would be the first, but barring that, this man was at the top of the list of who I’d see. So I did. Before meeting him in Waterloo at his book signing, I’d already formed an opinion of him: He was a people person, an author who kept his fingers on the on the pulse of his own stardom through interaction with his fans. I heard from a few people at the signing that they’d written to him and he’d actually written back–more than once.

After seeing him I’m happy to report that he is every bit the gentleman he is said to be. He’s also a very personable public speaker. I have no idea what it takes to smile for more than three-hundred photos in a row, but he did–and it was the same grin you’d see on the back jacket of any one of his twelve fantastic novels (I even liked the first one, which is more than I can say for most authors).

More later.

Dropcloth Angels vs. Cannibalangelo

So here’s the thing: Every time I turn around I see another novel with either an angel on the cover or in the title somewhere. Is this the end of the line for a title that’s been with me since I first changed it from ‘The Saviour’?

Last night I was chatting with a friend and mentioned my dilema to her. We jokingly started firing off ‘new’ title names (can’t recall them right now, but some were as lame as one-legged dog), however, one caused me to sit up and say, ‘hey, I kinda like that one.’ Luckily, it was one of my own suggestions, so I don’t need to kill Courtney to secure my rights to the title. Now, if you’ve never read any of ‘Dropcloth Angels’, you likely couldn’t give a rat’s butt either way, so I’ll leave this question out there for any Zaniacs or Zoephobes: Do you think my dark and oft times nasty tale of a whore on the run from a froot loop loving cannibal with a kindergarten crush could flourish under a new banner?

I asked the three wise men for their opinions, and they rode the vote to a stand-still. Skully says he doesn’t like change, because it’s all ‘changey and stuff’; Mortimer says yes, just so long as he gets to name the sequel; and the imp in my keyboard can’t decide whether he hates both names, or just me.

Any opinions on the matter will be weighed seriously.

Okay, semi-seriously. But I won’t laugh. Much.

Undiscovered Brilliance, Cont`d…

Second up on my list of Undiscovered Brilliance is  an American author named Richard Daybell (who doesn’t actually fit into this category since he’s been published many times over). You find him here because, known or not, he’s one of my new favourites. And I’ll tell you why:

I have four ‘All time favourite authors: Kurt Vonnegut (god rest his marvelously talented soul), Tom Robbins (even though he doesn’t like the same mayonaise as me–and takes far too long to get his books to me), Christopher Moore (a man whose books I will read again and again, just for the sheer enjoyment of the revisit), Chuck Palahniuk (because he stretches the boundaries of convention and comes up a winner every time).

What I see in Richard Daybell’s writing is a melding of sorts; his writing is a wonderful mixture of all the things I want in a book. He has charismatic characters, wonderfully descriptive (and sometimes zany) metaphors, and binds it all together with a mixture of excellent dialogue and primo plotting. Like most avid readers, I can spot a good story just by noting an author’s use of (or lack of) the perfect word for the perfect line. Not every phrase needs to sing, but in some writers it just comes naturally. Within Richard’s work, every word has meaning, every line builds a memorable and easily pictured image. Scratch what I said about ‘good story’; his are great.

Richard’s short stories and short humor have appeared in regional, national and international commercial publications including American Way and Hemispheres (the inflight magazines for American Airlines and United Airlines), The New York Times, Buffalo Spree, Salt Lake City Magazine, and Tampa Tribune Fiction Quarterly as well as such literary magazines as Rosebud and Dandelion. Not too shabby of a resume…not too shabby at all.

Okay, so let’s call Richard Daybell “Discovered Brilliance” that I’ll speak of anyway. It is my Blog afterall.

Richard Daybell’s Shorter Fiction:
Many of these are in a short story collection titled  ‘Calypso – Story Songs of the Caribbean‘. Of these stories, two-thirds have been previously published (as indicated above), and a second novel, ‘Terry and the Pirate‘, is nearing completion.
The longer one:
‘Calypso‘, a half-century Caribbean tradition of story in song, treats even the most serious of subjects with a warm humor. I asked Richard to tell me about some of these shorter works and this is what he had to say:

For me, it [Calypso] provides the unifying framework for a short story collection set in that most idyllic of places. There, a simple, unhurried attitude prevails, one that is frequently juxtaposed with the more frenzied pace of the tourists who annually invade the islands. It is these attitudes and these encounters that fuel the stories.
In ‘Stone Cold Dead in de Market‘, a naked body sits in the sunny marketplace while five American tourists sweat out the consequences on a balcony above (first appeared in American Way, the inflight magazine for American Airlines).
‘All Day, All Night, Marianne‘ tells of a young man who, with the help of his not-too-literary friend, hopes to woo his true love in the classic manner before a fat lady sings (also American Way).
In ‘Mama Eu Quero‘, a young woman is plucked from the American Midwest and whisked into a wild and wicked Oz called Havana during the early days of the Cuban Revolution (Dandelion).

Other stories tell of buried treasure, kidnapping, sea monsters, parrot lust and the dangers of breaking Christmas tradition. Ten of the fifteen stories have been previously published.

Here’s a snippet from ‘Voodoo Love Song‘ (and Richard picked one of my favourite selections from near the beginning here) Within these passages, I see a hint of other great writers, both Floridians (my blog, my word), the skillfully disturbing Tim Dorsey, and the ever hilarious Carl Hiassen:

“Ah, you’re not just an ordinary duck, you’re a member of the happiness squad, here to lift my spirits.”
“No,” answered the duck. “I thought you might have a cigarette.”
“That’s an interesting deduction.”
“Well, do you?”
“Yes.”
“May I have one?” the duck asked, sitting next to him on the bench.
“Certainly. I’ve never seen a duck smoke before. Rabbits maybe, hedgehogs maybe, but never a duck. Some people might find that a bit weird.”
“I think most people would agree that what’s really weird is someone talking to a duck.”
“You could be right,” said Paul, extending a cigarette pack. “Be my guest. I’m wide-eyed with anticipation, uh … is it Daisy?”
“Huey,” said the duck, taking a cigarette. “Or maybe Louie. No, it’s definitely Huey. Will you take my head off, please?”

Paul reached over to take hold of the duck’s head but the duck jumpedup and said “Whoa, not now. It’s the evil chipmunk. Gotta go.”

The duck waddled off at full throttle as the chipmunk came running past Paul. The chipmunk quickly caught the duck by the back of its jacket, but the duck wheeled around and delivered a right cross to the chipmunk’s smiling face. The chipmunk fell to the ground and the duck disappeared into the crowd. Paul stared at the ground, hoping the chipmunk would quietly go away, and that he would not be pulled into the middle of an interspecies squabble.

As you can see, Richard is a master of character interaction. It was this passage, and all that followed, that made me a fan of his words, his humour, and his very distinct style.In the future, I hope to be able to sit back in my big comfy chair and read ‘Voodoo Love Song‘–as well as all of his many works that will follow–in either hardback or paperback.

This concludes the second installment of ‘Undiscovered Brilliance’. There are many, many more though.

Soon I’ll be speaking of (and to) the following authors (and more authors that I’ve momentarily forgotten to list here–unless, of course, they want nothing to do with me):

Steve Jensen

Frank Duffy

William Holt

Courtney Johnson

Rebecca Hamilton

Leah Petersen

Jane Alexander

Jared Conway

Violet Wells

Alexander Riley

And many, many more.

Original Video- More videos at TinyPic

The Unpublished Masses? Or Undiscovered Brilliance?

As a member of five or six sites tailored to writers and their wares, I’ve come to a very unsettling conclusion. There are obviously many factors that would need to come into play for an unpublished author to become a published author. I’ve seen many fellow writers fail with fantastic books. Books that I’d buy over some of the one’s force fed to us by the big three any day of the week. Since I don’t know why this is, I’m just going to allow you to sample some of the genius I’ve been lucky enough to read for free.

Keep in mind these are just my opinions and have not been researched, just mused upon by yours namely. Here, I’ll name a few unpublished authors (most of whom have been actively seeking representation for their work) who, in my opinion, range from excellent to brilliant and are listed in no particular order. There are many more, but for my purpose here, I’ll name but a few.

Up first is a very nice guy with a great book:

Steve Tee- (okay, this is my favourite–no secret with anyone who knows me–and he’s not even published. Yet).

His book is titled ‘Hell’s Angel’, and it literally blew me right out of my high top Converse All-stars. If there was/is a master of the modern horror story, it’s this man (and I don’t even know his full last name).

“I shall tear down the obscene edifices of religion. And if humanity should suffer by my hand, so be it; for Mine is the kingdom.”

In the eyes of Jeremiah Corns, humanity are flesh and blood puppets wandering creation as grotesques, twisted and moulded by the avaricious hands of organised religion.
Cursed with the stigmata and bearing resentment only an abandoned child could know, he resolves to rid mankind of their gods.

Set in a future world ruled by theocratic governments, Jeremiah’s story unfolds in the form of vignettes and newspaper articles, along with verses from the final chapter in the turbulent chronicle of mankind, The Third Testament.

Here is a piece of what I’m talking about. This is a tidbit Steve gave me to place here. This is just a taste of Jeremiah Corn:

Rainwater, dripping from ice-cold iron railings, trickled tentatively towards a bloated gutter. Jeremy stopped by a Dumpster of corpses to light a Cool Mist filter-tipped.
The air smelled of rotten meat.
Sometimes, when he closed his eyes, he beheld, from his elevated position atop the stone mound, Damascus Gate and the bloodied path of Via Dolorosa; the setting sun pushing tendrils of crimson towards Mount Zion; the musty aroma of an impatient Garden Tomb assailing his olfactory system.
They had promised him fresh water, that he might quench his thirst.
He inhaled, deeply. The patter of rain on garbage kept time with the pounding of hammers.
Sometimes, during quiet moments alone – harps, hushed and forlorn, waiting in the wings – he heard the discordant, dolorous tones of steel on steel; nails being driven through flesh and bone.
“Immanuel! My Arse!”
Jeremy made his way across the street, stepping over a pregnant young girl. Her clothes were ragged and filthy, her auburn hair matted against the remains of her skull. The odour of her skin would linger with him for days.
For a moment, he recalled being cradled in loving arms, snuggled against a warm lactating breast, his cherubic features held in a proud father’s loving gaze.
The ghosts of a thousand dead cities tugged on his sleeve and clawed at his flesh, demanding, always demanding.
Another rain-slick street of corpses beckoned to him through the smoggy gloom.
His thirst remained unquenched; perhaps, even, unquenchable. And sometimes, just sometimes, everything made perfect sense.

The way Steve Tee blends this tale together is mesmerizing. After my first visit with ‘Hell’s Angel’, I sat smiling like an idiot at my computer screen for about ten minutes. [At the conclusion of reading a portion of a novel on the site where I found this book, Authonomy, the reader is given the opportunity to comment on what they've read; share their views, mention any errors, logic issues, punctuation & grammar, what-have-you.] I stared at the empty comment box, believing myself unworthy of even saying ‘thanks for sharing’. I felt that I’d just gush praises, and that’s not what I do. But in all honesty, I was numb. Numb because a novel like that even sits beside mine in a slush pile. I was saddened and elated all at the same time. Saddened for one simple reason: if his book isn’t fit for general cunsumption, how does that bode for my own tale about a cannibal and the whore he’s smitten with? I still don’t know the answer to that. I haven’t sent a query letter away yet.

I was elated because I had the opportunity to read great books, share ideas, and converse with some very fine minds about everything from dirty jokes to punctuation and common grammar issues inherent with advanced and novice writers.

As an addendum here, I’ll check with any author I mention on this page and see if they mind me posting a few snippets of their story up here. I’ll talk to Steve tomorrow. I’m sure he won’t mind, so some of his should be here by tomorrow afternoon.

Until then, don’t take candy from strangers.

Later today–that’s tomorrow for some, and yesterday for others–I’ll be delving into the mind of another great writer, Richard Daybell, and also take a peek at a few choice snippets from his book ‘Voodoo Love Song’.

A little taste of Dropcloth love

Trailer for Dropcloth Angels

THEME: The least talked about ingredient of a story

Theme is the main idea or underlying meaning of a literary work. A theme may be stated or implied. It differs from the subject or topic of a literary work in that it involves a statement or opinion about the topic. Not every story has a theme, and/or themes may be major or minor. A major theme is an idea the author returns to time and again. It becomes one of the most important ideas in the story. Minor themes are ideas that may appear from time to time.

It is important to recognize the difference between the theme of a literary work and the subject of a literary work. The subject is the topic on which an author has chosen to write. The theme, however, makes some statement about or expresses some opinion on that topic. For example, the subject of a story might be war while the theme might be the idea that war is useless.Four ways in which an author can express themes are as follows:

1. Themes are expressed and emphasized by the way the author makes us feel.. By sharing feelings of the main character you also share the ideas that go through his mind.

2. Themes are presented in thoughts and conversations. Authors put words in their character’s mouths only for good reasons. One of these is to develop a story’s themes. The things a person says are much on their mind. Look for thoughts that are repeated throughout the story.

3. Themes are suggested through the characters. The main character usually illustrates the most important theme of the story. A good way to get at this theme is to ask yourself the question, what does the main character learn in the course of the story?

4. The actions or events in the story are used to suggest theme. People naturally express ideas and feelings through their actions. One thing authors think about is what an action will “say”. In other words, how will the action express an idea or theme?

Busy, busy, busy

swilling coffee, writing a little Shakespeare, and playing the numbers game over at Authonomy.

Punctuation: yeah, apparently there are different ways to do it

With all there is for great literary minds to ponder–a beautifully scripted fourth century rendering of some forgotten Germanic lore, the hidden meanings within any Quentin Tarrantino vehicle, or how to reproduce the entire Old Testament on the head of a pin–why, oh why do they have to piss around with how a writer punctuates their writing?

I recently completed a critique for a good friend of mine, one who’s writing skills are very well-honed. During the course of my read-through of this piece, I noticed several occasions in which I thought their work was punctuated incorrectly–and I noted, repaired, then made a comment in the margin on the proper use of said punctuation.

I’ve only been punched in the junk with this one so far, but I’m sure there are probably more. By “this one,” I mean the em-dash (and to a lesser extent, the en-dash). This is a great weapon in any writer’s arsenal, but it can also be a fist-sized pain in the ass. Here’s one more reason why: There is now–and maybe always has been–a school of thought that states, “Hey, I want my em-dash to be pretty and flow, not stab into each word, holding them together like two lesbian porn-stars fighting for their share of a table leg. I want airy space on either side of the em-dash…

Okay, so here’s my issue: If this is an “accepted” form of the em-dash, then how do I know, when my manuscript hits the desk of Miss/Mr./Ms Big-time agent/editor, that I have the correct (to them) use of the em-dash (all three-hundred and forty-six of them) in place? In a situation such as this, I believe it would be only prudent to say, “What the f%*k?!”

The “Blue Book of Grammar and Punctuation” has this to say:

Okay, so I didn’t see any examples in that explanation that stated it was ever okay to use spaces before or after an em-dash. So, moving on.

Aside from a few scattered “I choose to use the space” comments, my search has been fruitless thus far.

Here’s what Wikipedia had to say:

According to most American sources (e.g., The Chicago Manual of Style) and to some British sources (e.g., The Oxford Guide to Style), an em dash should always be set closed (not surrounded by spaces). But the practice in some parts of the English-speaking world, also the style recommended by The New York Times Manual of Style and Usage (due to the narrow width of newspaper columns), sets it open (separates it from its surrounding words by using spaces  or hair spaces (U+200A)) when it is being used parenthetically. Some writers, finding the em dash unappealingly long, prefer to use an open-set en dash. This “space, en dash, space” sequence is also the predominant style in German and French typography. See En dash versus em dash below.

In Canada, The Canadian Style [A Guide to Writing and Editing], The Oxford Canadian of Grammar, Spelling & Punctuation, Guide to Canadian English Usage [Second Edition], Editing Canadian English Manual, and the Canadian Oxford Dictionary are all defined NO SPACE before or after these Em Dash marks when they are inserted between words, a word and numeral, or two numerals.

Monospaced fonts (such as Courier) that mimic the look of a typewriter have the same width for all characters. Some of these fonts have em and en dashes which more or less fill the monospaced width they have available. For example, “- – — −” will show as a hyphen, en dash, em dash, and minus in a monospace font. Typewriters often only have a single hyphen glyph, so it is common to use two monospace hyphens strung together--like this--to serve as an em dash.

When an actual em dash is unavailable—as in the ASCII character set—a double (“–”) or triple hyphen-minus (“—”) is used.

Blah, blah, blah. But please notice there are no spaces present in their examples.

Alright! Now I’m getting somewhere. The Chicago Manual of Style says no. They are–in the eyes of North American publishers–the proverbial “shit,” when it comes to what “is” and what “isnt” in the editing world. They said this about differences of opinion in regard to spaces verses the Write Way:

CMOS does not utilize this method of spacing, either before or after an em dash. Nonetheless, even our own publications sometimes play with spacing for display purposes, and some typefaces impose more space than others. In this matter, as in most style matters, if Chicago’s preferences don’t suit your purposes, work around them. We won’t be offended.

See any spaces in the following sentences? These were the examples given by CMOS. 

“Will he–can he–obtain the necessary signatures?” asked Mill.

“Well, I don’t know,” I began tentatively. “I thought I might–”

“Might what?” she demanded.

Yeah, I didn’t see any spaces either.

This point I started out trying to make seems to come down to a matter of choice. There are many advocates for a spaced out     em    dash    , but their reasons for doing so (seemed to) have nothing to do with any sort of edict, and everything to do with how pleasing to the eye the spaces were. Even CMOS states that anyone can use what they wish (even though they do NOT recognize this recent (1960′s)phenomena of spacing before and (or) after the em dash).

So, here it is:

You can either chose to use spaces, or you can do it the Write Way. Your choice. If you think I’m Wrong, then prove it; post a reply with your proof. Until then, I’ll keep using my em dash The Write Way (or until someone who’s paying me large sums of cash says otherwise).

Now, whether I use the em dash properly (as in: the proper context), well. . . That’s a whole other bucket of maggoty fish bait, ain’t it?

Later