Stories, Worlds, Community
Last week, a young writer asked if I had any insecurities about my writing. My initial response was, yes, of course I have insecurities. I wouldn’t be a writer if I wasn’t on some level insecure about my writing (and in general about everything for always and forever).
However, after some retrospection, I realized I’m in a much better place than I was when I started.
*If you haven’t seen the movie and are planning to, you probably want to stop here. Come back after you’ve seen it.
Now…
Full disclosure: I’m a fan of UNBREAKABLE. I liked it better than THE SIXTH SENSE. I’ve watched it probably six or seven times. And every time I’ve watched it, I manage to pick up something new I missed the previous times.
Continue reading “GLASS is a good movie and anyone who disagrees is wrong.*”
I acknowledge it’s unfair of me to review Dan Simmons’ entire Hyperion Cantos together because it’s a long, complex journey with highs and lows in terms of both narrative drama and writing quality. In many ways, it’s less a four-book series, and more a duology of duologies. Unfortunately, the first two books are far superior than the latter two, which mainly serve to button up the universe. If these books interest you at all, I might recommend reading only the first two; however, the Endymion books might compel you, and you might find yourself beginning to resent them and questioning whether it was worth beginning the series in the first place.
Continue reading “The Hyperion Cantos by Dan Simmons”Because it’s 2019.
Because I’m a white guy living in the U.S. who is purposefully writing characters who are anything other than white, and I don’t want them to be stereotypes.
Because just making them not stereotypes isn’t enough.
Because I haven’t lived as a POC and there will be things I get wrong.
Because I haven’t lived as a woman and there will be things I get wrong.
Because part of being a writer… no… part of being aware… no… part of being a decent human being is letting go of your ego.
Because if I want diversity in my books, and diversity in my readership, I need to have diversity in the creative process.
Because Google Translate doesn’t really speak Spanish.
Because I have unconscious biases. As much as it hurts to admit and as scary as it is to face, it’s true.
Because POC deserve respect. Part of that is me putting in the time and energy and cost of getting things right, when creating something to (hopefully) represent them.
Because women deserve respect. Part of that is me putting in the time and the energy and the cost of getting things right, when creating something to (hopefully) represent them.
Because sensitivity readers aren’t hard to find. Seriously. Go to Twitter, type it in as a hashtag. Easy. No more excuses.
Because they were professional and polite and more than one showed appreciation that I was trying to be better. They didn’t have to do it, and I didn’t expect it from them. Still, it warmed my heart.
Because they made my book so much better.
Because I learned things about myself. Some of them made me sad. But sadness is good. Sadness is a tiny wound, and now I can heal it.
Because I learned things about others. Some of them were beautiful. Now, I can carry them with me and go back to them and smile.
Because words matter, and I have a duty to use mine for something good.
Because there’s no good reason not to.
Because it’s time for me to be better.
“You can’t judge a book by its cover.”
Sure you can. Most people do. And the thing is, it doesn’t matter if their assessment is right, because they’ll never know.
If someone looks at a book cover and judges it to be of poor quality, or not interesting, and they believe the contents of the book are the same, what are the chances they will read the book to see if they’re right? Zilch. Nada. Because there are too many other books out there, books with far more interesting covers that will draw their attention, and ultimately their reading time. Continue reading “Judging A Book By Its Cover”
Nick Mamatas went on a Tweet storm yesterday about creative writing teachers barring students from writing genre fiction. It sparked conversation in the various Internets where writers dwell. I had thoughts.
I think Nick took it too far. Were we close, I’d ask him who hurt him, but alas, we’re not. I do think Nick was onto something, though.
(I should preface the rest of this with the disclaimer that I am not a fiction teacher, nor have I ever had the opportunity of teaching fiction writing, and nor is this a criticism of any creative writing teacher in particular. It’s a hard and thankless job, and it takes a special person to legitimately be excited to help others grow and succeed.)
Continue reading “Creative Writing Teachers Should Never Tell Students ‘No’”
Everyone works differently. I’m going to focus on writing, here. Not that it’s what I do best (that would be eating cookies while singing in the shower), but because it’s something I put a lot of thought and thinking time into. As a note, it would be better if I used that time for actual writing, but that’s hard and I’m tired and stop telling me what to do.
One thing most writers do is talk to other writers. We discuss the craft, the process, the joys and the pains. Well, just the pains. There are no joys. No, there are, but they’re not really joys. They’re just the absence of pain. Important thing to keep in mind.
If you had someone encourage you to write when you were young, he or she may have said, “paint me a picture.” As it turns out, this would be the worst advice anyone would ever give you. Even more dire is it may be the foundation of what many people believe to be good writing, and it’s evident as one of the most pervasive problems I see in the work of new writers.
Sometimes I think, maybe one day, I’ll get to teach a creative writing class. I think I would really enjoy it, and I think I could be reasonably good at it. In these times of grand fantasy, I consider the lessons I might bestow upon the next generation of writers.
Chief among them would be, as the writer, you’re not the painter. You’re the person at the paint store. Your readers aren’t using your imagination. Your readers are using their imaginations.
The lady and I recently watched Netflix’s The Staircase, a docu-series about the novelist Michael Peterson who was charged with murdering his wife in 2001. Similar to Making a Murderer, it’s another fascinating investigation of the American justice system. I highly recommend both of them.
A bit of a disclaimer, though: these are not mystery stories. They are not about whether the suspects did or did not murder the victim (I realize the marketing image I chose to plop down to the right of these words poses that very question, but it’s the most compelling way Netflix could find to sell you on it).
These docu-series put the American justice system on full display, exposing its flaws. They will make you question your faith in the fundamental tenet of American justice that a defendant should be considered innocent until proven guilty, and they will make you question our very humanity, especially given the context of the cruel times in which we live. If you watch them, they will anger and sadden you because the reality they portray is not one we confront often, or maybe because it’s one which we are increasingly forced to come to terms with.
Continue reading “Dark Fiction, Author Anxiety, and Personal Judgment”
I was recently honored with title of Author of the Month for a Book Review Bloggers group. Part of this was making myself available to answer questions posed to me about writing and myself. Below, I’d like to share one of the exchanges.
I don’t know if “enjoyed” is a word that applies. Writing a book, for me anyway, is like raising a child. The beginning is always that wonderful mix of scary and exciting. You have all these ideas about how things will go. You can see it all in your mind, step by step, each little bit and moment. How you will soothe and smooth, putting things just as you imagine them, and watching as it grows into the something wonderful you believe it to be.
And then, it shits all over you.