An update to the last update

As of this this writing, I have 88,888 words, which means I wrote exactly 4400 words today.

That done, I think I'll go take a nap.

An update

My brother got a laptop for Christmas, and with my own computer temporarily out of commission, I've been using it to write for the past several hours.

I wrote more than three thousand words, and several new scenes. They're disjointed and incomplete, and scattered across the timeline, but it's three thousand words, and that ain't not bad.

I'm going to keep going. I have nothing better to do. Not the best mindset to bring to a supposed labor of love, but it's this or watching some rerun on tv. Besides, I haven't written anything substantial in nearly five days, and I'm twelve thousand words behind in my word count. (I was supposed to reach 100K by Christmas. I know it's not technically Christmas yet, but come on.) It used to be fifteen thousand, but then I went and wrote three thousand words in one sitting, so I'm feeling pretty good about that.

Merry Christmas to all.


-- Cris

In a funk

I can't write when I get like this, all blue and down for no reason at all (well, for no good reason). The funk oozes into the writing, permeating it, and when the funk has passed, as it inevitably will, the bad writing will remain. And it's some bad writing, folks. Words cannot express how bad.

The only thing to do is wait for it to pass, and hope it does so before the end of the day. I'll fall behind in my word count, but I can live with that. Unfortunately.


--Cris

Too damn long

I told myself I wouldn't go this long without updating the journal, but then I did. I'm a bad, bad man. :/

In my own defense, I've lost faith in Blogspot's ability to properly log my posts. The last time I tried, I spent some forty-five minutes of my life writing a post, and when I went to publish, it didn't show up, nor did it show up in my Drafts, though they supposedly "autosave" every few minutes. That post is gone, and so are those lost minutes. :(


In any case, a progress report is long overdue.

I've reached nearly 90K words in Scamper. I think this is more than halfway to the end (though there's still some debate as to just where the end is. 125K? 150? I don't bleeding know), but there's still plenty of work left ahead of me. More so than can be done in a couple of weeks, so I'm pushing the deadline back by one month.

Jan 31st. Plenty of time. (Of course, I said the same of December 31st, but that's neither here nor there).

The story's beginning to gain some definition. This is good news; previously, the whole thing was just a nebulous construct in my mind, lacking any real definition as to where it would begin and end, the major events, the climax, and so on. I'd write a scene or a chapter without any real idea of where to put it, but now, the ideas are forming. Like I said, it's still a long road to travel, but at least I have some idea of where it's going to end.


--Cris

NaNoWriMo

It begins.

I can see madness on the horizon, and feel as if I'm rushing headlong towards it .

This should be interesting.


--Cris

A Confession

If not for writing, I would probably be a very crazy person.

But then, writing makes me pretty crazy anyway, so...

I admit, it's a bit of a conundrum, but the two balance each other out pretty well, I think.


--Cris

On Outlines

The decision to outline was, believe it or not, more of an epiphany.

For a long time, I held with the belief that outlining was a weakness, of sorts, that it bound into some sort of pact from which you couldn't escape. You wrote the story in outline form, and was thereafter destined to fulfill the contract. And if you didn't, Lucifer was waiting on the periphery, willing, and in fact eager, to unleash upon you, the reneger, the hound hoards of hell.

Intellectually, of course, I knew it was hogwash. I've heard of plenty of writers (some published, some not) who outline, and who've had a story veer terrifically off-road, to its benefit. That's intellectually.

In my heart, it felt like a weakness, like I wasn't a real writer if I outlined. Idiotic, I know, but I can't help my feelings. If I could... well, that's a post for a different blog.

In any case, I've gotten over it. I'm outlining both stories, and am the better for it. Now, I feel like I'm getting somewhere. Scenes, even scenes written out of the blue and unconnected to anything while I write them, are going somewhere. That's important, I think. It's important to feel like you're not just spinning your wheels in the mud without getting anywhere. It's important because I don't write stories. Not really. I write scenes.

It took me a long time to come to this conclusion, and a while to come to terms with it. When I try to write stories, they don't turn out well. On my own, without intending to submit to any sort of contest (in which I do quite well, for some reason), stories I write tend to peter out, to dissolve into nothing, until even the reason for writing them eludes me.

I write scenes, the musings of some single character, or interactions, conversations between groups of two or more. Those, I think, I do well. I like writing dialogue. I'm getting better at writing action (which had, for a long while, been a big weakness of mine), but dialogue always tended to flow pretty smoothly for me. More so in real-world settings, but also in fantasy.

These scenes will be seeded throughout the story, and connections will be made; if one scene is put after another, I'll write transitions from one to the next. If two scenes written are separated by some passage of time, I'll write, quickly and in wide brush strokes, how they're related.

I'm getting better at writing chronologically, as well, at starting at Chapter One and going from there, but this piecemeal writing comes most naturally to me. I'm still wondering whether or not that's detrimental.

Outlines.

I should have done this ages ago.

-- Cris.

An update

I'm trying to work out a regular schedule. Usually, I save my writing for... well, whenever I feel like it, really, but that's no way to finish a story. So I've set aside a few hours in the morning where I can plant myself in front of my computer (the one without the internet access, cuz I'm lazy, and weak-willed) with the express knowledge that I'm not moving until either the time is up or the world is ending. (The world doesn't end nearly as often as I'd like).

In any case, it's good for me. The stories are progressing at slow but steady rates. With a lot of luck and a little bit of diligence (or, conversely, no luck, and a lot of diligence), I can realize the goal of finishing Out of Tadara by Dec. 31st. Getting more than 50% of Scamper's story done by then (no title, yet) would be a bonus, but it's not something I'm holding my breath for.

Towards this end, I'm working out detailed outlines for both stories (something I've never really done before). Oddly, it's easier to outline Scamper's story than OoT, but that's nothing to worry about.

--Cris

Issues abound

I am wracked with doubt, and plagued by insecurities.

It sucks. :/

-- Cris

It's big, believe me

I've come to something of a decision. After much deliberation, I've decided to give up this life of wanton materialism and whoring to join a Tibetan monastery and embrace a culture of spirituality and devotion.

Okay, no, that's not the decision. But that'd be cool, too.

I'm splitting the story in two.

I should have done it ages ago but when I planned the thing out (insofar as I planned it, I mean), I put these two ideas together and have been reluctant to tear them apart. They seemed to belong together, and I thought that if the two storylines met in the third act, I could pull it off. I thought I could make it work. I can't. What I've noticed (all too belatedly, I'll admit), is that these are two completely different stories. The only things they have in common, besides the spunky hero, is that they're in the same genre, and frankly, that's not enough. Even if it was, even if they weren't so different, putting them together inflates the story to an insane degree; there was no way it would work as one novel, which is what I want Out of Tadara to remain. And even if I didn't, even if I thought serialization was okay (I seriously considered, for a short while, slitting the story into six considerably shorter novels, but have since gotten over it), the SEY storyline is by fall a smaller story. It would, in these six novels, have remained the ghostly storyline, showing up only to remind you it wasn't completely over, yet. Unfinished business, and all.

ELKN tracks a a journey that spans a continent by foot; SEY hardly ever leaves the (albeit immense) city; ELKN deals in discovery, both inner and outer, and although SEY is set in a city that can be reasonably explored to a great measure, it's not that story. It's not a tourist's guide to Deo Nazaar. The characters (most of them, at least) know who and where they are (literally and figuratively), and they know on which side of the main conflict they'll fall.

However, even if I were willing to overlook all that, all the differences between the two, the greatest reason for the split is simply this: Out of Tadara is a story about the struggle of a small group (points for originality, I think) in getting out of Tadara. It has to be a monumental, nigh impossible task, or it wouldn't be interesting, and taking a reader out of there in the second chapter (when SEY is introduced) would diminish the weight of the mission.

So, SEY's chucked. I'm turning it into its own (albeit shorter) novel, and frankly, I'm looking forward to it; now I don't have to harangue myself over when and how the two stories will converge. Honestly, getting ELKN to Deo Nazaar was such a Deus Ex Machina, I'm surprised I didn't do this sooner.

Also, given that I don't really like single-focus stories (I like jumping around, a bit, not always staying with the same group), I'll have to come up with something to fill the gap. For both stories.

Well, it's a work in progress.


-- Cris

The Second Post (or, "On Writing")

I'm having a hard time finding the right environment for writing.

Sometimes, my room suffices. Others, it's too small, cramped, claustrophobic, cluttered, dark... essentially, just no good. Sometimes, I'll write outside, using pen and paper (I've tried moving my entire PC to the backyard deck; it doesn't work); others, though admittedly not for a while, the loud clacking of my electronic typewriter is just the thing. I have notebooks up to my gills, note pads, and sometimes, I'll sketch to get the juices flowing. Outline. Don't outline. Maps. No maps. Write scenes where your characters meet at a coffee shop, using only dialogue, to get a better grip on their unique idiosyncrasies. I can never find a system I'm happy with for long.

Sometimes, I think Writer's Block is a weakness of the mind; others, it's as insurmountable as Everest (for me; yes, Everest has been summited, but let's get real: it'll never be done by me). Sometimes, my mood is such that nothing can deter me; others, I get in funks so deep writing doesn't even make sense, let alone feel like a genuine pursuit. I snap out of it. I always do. But those are hours, or even days, lost during which I could have produced something. Maybe not something great, or even something that would have lasted ("kill your darlings" says Stephen King, meaning you should never fall so in love with a word, a phrase, a whole passage or chapter that you can't afford to cut it if necessary), but something, nonetheless.

The story evolves. Originally, it was about Ethan, a magical boy who has to get himself home. The main milieu, Voyoo, was a medieval kingdom, the likes of which you've seen a dozen times in fantasy story. Also, he was a vampire. (That didn't last long). I'm happy with where the story has gone, and I'm eager to see where it will lead, but sometimes I fear I'll never be satisfied with what I have, that the story will continue to evolve, ever changing, never settling long enough to stay a single book. This, my greatest fear. I'll never stop writing it, because it'll never be done.

Well.

That's enough for now, I suppose.

I should probably get to writing.

-- Cris

The First Post

I've decided to keep a story journal, tracking the progress of my novel, Out of Tadara. I've done this before, but never with a great deal of regularity. Now, my hope is that keeping a record of what I've done and when will push me to write more than I do.

The story, a fantasy novel I've been tinkering with for something like two years (in its current incarnation; including previous drafts, it's been more like five years), tracks a group of people on their journey through new and wondrous lands fraught with magic and magical creatures, as well as fantastic perils, and ultimately, an ancient evil that threatens to destroy their very world. Yes, I know; it's frighteningly original. Don't be intimidated.

Out of Tadara follows, mainly, a young amnesiac who awoke on a river island in the middle of a vast, untamed continent. This is Tadara. (I don't much like the name, but nothing better has so far come to mind.) Four years later (present day) the boy is running along the southern shore of his island (well, I say "island", but really, it's the land formed when a river splits, runs for several miles, then converges again) when he finds a gravely injured girl, unconscious and washed up on shore. The girl, he will find out, is the last survivor of a party of travelers making their way across the ocean; they came too close to the forbidden continent and were attacked. The title, "Out of Tadara", refers to the boy's undertaking, wherein he tries, at the behest of gods or demons or his own insanity (don't misunderstand: he doesn't know who's talking to him. I do), to take the girl home. On the way, wackiness ensues. (I'd like to further detail the story, but for it to make much sense, it would entail a full-story synopsis, which I don't really feel like getting into.)

That's the main storyline (the "ELKN" storyline, named for the first initial of the four main characters, Ethan (the boy), Laran (the girl), Kara, and Nalyn, two natives they meet along the way); a secondary storyline (the "SEY" storyline, for Scamper, Errti, and Yui) follows a young boy, Scamper, as he tries to ensure that his friend, Errti, an unhatched dragon, won't be born into the life of servitude under which dragons currently suffer. Yui, a dragon rider, will be convinced to help.

Honestly, these are two vastly different stories which share only the world in which they take place; it's been suggested to me that I split them into two separate novels, and develop them thusly. I'd like to do that, and can see it working, but right now, I want to see if I can't make it work as one novel, albeit one really long novel. If I include every storyline I wanted (7 and counting, I think), I can't imagine the whole thing would be any shorter than 300,000 words, but realistically speaking, that won't happen. As it is, I'm cutting characters and storylines left and right, and it sucks. (One character, Caladora, had been around for two years when I gave her the axe.) But you do what you must, right?

Well. I could stay here and talk about the story for ages, but recently, I've found I spend more time talking about the story than I spend actually writing it. I'm hoping this blog will help remedy that.

My deadline for the first draft is Dec. 31st, 2007.

Wish me luck.

-- Cris