Writerly Wednesdays

Write What You Know … Or Don’t … But Only Sometimes?

We’ve all heard that tired piece of so-called advice: Write what you know. If you go traipsing about the writerly corners of the blogosphere, you’ll find a lot of posts about why that’s ridiculous.

And it is, especially when taken literally. If my novels were strictly based on things I know (i.e., have experienced), my family should be very worried about me. (Alternate dimensions? Human-alien hybrids? Uh, yeah.)

In some senses, though, I do write what I know, because I use my knowledge in lots of different ways as I write. I have deaf characters in two different projects. Yeah, that’s something I know a thing or two about. If I didn’t, I don’t think I would dare attempt to write them. But there are other ways to gain that knowledge than by day-to-day living it.

I think we all know that we need to do our homework when writing, researching and educating ourselves about various topics that weave their way into the story. In that sense, we will write what we know, only we didn’t know it until we needed to write it. (And as a friend recently noted, our search-engine histories can look really … um … interesting.)

There’s knowledge, and then there’s experience. Obviously we write about things we haven’t experienced, and in many cases, we never could experience. (Again, crossing dimensions? Or, say, what some catastrophic injury feels like? Or what it’s like to murder someone?)

But here’s a thought: Are there some things, probably less out of the ordinary than the examples I mentioned, that you really must experience yourself?

A fellow writer recently posited that there are—that certain things will never be written well by a person who hasn’t experienced them firsthand. I’m not going to go into it, because I don’t want to color the responses.

Can you think of anything? Any at all? Or is the idea a load of hooey?

Make your case, for or against. I’m really curious to see what the general consensus is.

Speak up:

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I’m Not a Bipolar Writer—What’s Wrong With Me?

Lately I’ve been seeing a lot of tweets, status updates, and posts relating in some way to the bipolarity of writers. The euphoric highs of Mega-Manuscript Love, and the desperate lows of I Hate Writing But I’m Doing It Anyway, Sort Of.

I don’t get it … which makes me wonder if I’m missing something.

It’s not the first time I’ve wondered that.

It’s not that nothing about this business gets me way down (One word: rejection … yeah) or way up (Full requests! Agents acknowledging me on Twitter!). But the super-extreme emotions don’t tie to the actual WRITING OF THE STORY.

If you saw my post last Friday, you know I’m not into the super-whiny (or super-effusive) approach to much of anything. Aside from letting that writer-bipolarity dominate your social media presence, though, I imagine there’s nothing wrong with it.

Is there something right with it? Am I actually missing something? Are my emotions not getting engaged enough as I write?

I don’t think that’s it. There was a particular scene that truly creeped me out to write. And I’ve gotten teary while writing others. So I don’t think I have a death-grip on my emotions while writing.

Maybe it’s my “analytic-artist” nature. (Trust me, it’s taken ages to acknowledge the “artist” half of that.) The analytic part has never been prone to extreme emotions without truly extreme circumstances. (My teenage years don’t count, Mom.)

I have times when the words come fast and furious. I have times when the pace necessarily slows down so my brain can work out some connections. I’m fine with both.

Here’s the thing. I write because I want to. I write because I enjoy it. I write because I love reading what I’ve written, making it better, and having others read it.

The knowledge that I need to keep working keeps the love from taking me super-high. The love keeps the knowledge that I still have a lot to do from taking me super-low.

Every writer will have a slightly different process. For me, keeping the balance works. So, there might be things wrong with me, but this isn’t one of them. It’s just my way.

Are you a writer that hits those highs and lows during the writing process? What gets you through the lows? What do those highs feel like?

Speak up:

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Whipping the WiP

First, let’s make this clear. The speed at which you write your first draft has nothing to do with the quality of the end product. It varies by individual. Some can crank out a novel-length draft in two weeks, and others take years. It really doesn’t matter.

From talking to others, it seems I’m on the slightly faster end. As long as I’m not in a “muddy” area, I can write 1k in an hour pretty easily. I managed over 50k in the month of November for NaNoWriMo without having to push myself that hard.

Here’s something important to remember: My free time is pretty distraction-free (unless I choose some distractions). I have a day job, but once I get home (evenings and weekends), I have no kids to chase nor spouse to feed.

An interesting thing I’ve noticed during my time in the online world of writers’ communities is that there are two polarized types of writers—those who hate drafting, and those who hate editing/revising.

Not everyone falls into one of those two camps. Personally, I like both. I like initial writing, getting the story down, because then I can read it. That’s what I do—I write novels I want to read. I think that’s part of what pushes my daily word-count along, especially in the final third or so when I really get some momentum going. (Also, by then I’m pretty clear on what’ll happen in the rest of the book, i.e., no mud in my path.)

I also like making what I’ve written even better. Fleshing out some things, tightening others up, hitting things a little harder. Making it all pretty.

How about you? What motivates you to keep moving forward on your work-in-progress? What do you do when you can’t seem to get that momentum going?

Speak up:

5 comments

Writer’s Mud

To the best of my knowledge/memory, I have never had writer’s block. Not the way I’ve heard it described, at least. Manuscript at a standstill, unable to move forward one word, let alone one sentence.

Never had that—of course, I haven’t been at this too long yet. What I have done is slog through the writer’s mud. Have you been there? The forward momentum doesn’t stop; it just slows down. There’s a little more thinking going on, a little more letting the scene play out in my head before I attempt writing the words.

I don’t see this as a particularly bad thing (as long as the whole manuscript doesn’t go that way). It’s kind of the bridge that joins the planning part of me and the “pantsing” part. (For the uninitiated, that’s the flying-by-the-seat-of-your-pants concept.) I frequently have some broad plot points outlined (roughly) when I start, even some details noted, but I don’t have the specifics of how those major landmarks will be connected. Basically, I know the characters will start at A, stop by E, L, and T on the way, and end up at Z. The rest of the alphabet kind of unfolds as I go.

Generally, I like how this works. I have those big points in mind, so I know what I need to point toward. As I slog through the mud, my brain is sifting through possibilities, everything marinating and percolating to get those connections made.

Since I spent the majority of my life convinced I wasn’t creative at all, I’m happy to find a creative process that works (or seems to). I just have to make sure I keep moving, or that mud might suck me down to where I can’t get the momentum going again.

Have you experienced the mud? Or have you experienced writer’s block? What do you do to put a positive spin on it and get moving again?

Speak up:

4 comments

Call It What It Is … So What Is It?

I am sure I’ve referred to myself as an aspiring writer before. Maybe even frequently. Chuck Wendig says I shouldn’t call myself that. (Good article on the other end of that link, but fair warning—coarse language therein as well.) I understand his point. You either write or you don’t. If you do, you’re a writer; if you don’t, you’re not. Very Yoda.

With respect to Mr. Wendig, however, sometimes that’s the clearest, most concise label for the type of writer I’m referring to. There are many types, and I have friends among all of them. Published writers, writers with publishing contracts who’ve not yet been published (would that be pre-published?), agented writers, self-published and/or indie writers.

Then there’s me (and my friends rowing along in the same boat).

I suppose I could call myself an aspiring-to-be-published writer. Accurate, but kind of a mouthful. If I wanted to be really accurate about my status at this very moment, I should call myself an aspiring-to-be-agented writer. That’s even more awkward.

Sometimes (maybe even most of the time), it’s fine to say “writers,” all-inclusive. Then there are times when I need to specify a more specific group, and if I say “aspiring writers,” most people will know what I mean.

It reminds me of a discussion I had with a colleague at school a few years ago. She’d been in a discussion where some teachers stated vehemently that we shouldn’t refer to some students as hard-of-hearing. It’s a school for the deaf, call them all deaf (or Deaf, more accurately), and leave it at that.

Again, that’s all well and good much of the time, but there are occasions when I need to refer to a particular subset of students. I joked with my friend that I’d call them Students Having Access To Sound Adequate For Acquiring Spoken English—the SHATSAFASEs. (Try saying that aloud. Yeah.)

The hard-of-hearing label has pretty much stuck. Sometimes I call them “Talkers.” We all know it isn’t meant to put them above or below the deaf kids—it just means speaking to them isn’t a waste of breath.

So, my apologies. I’m going to continue to use “aspiring writer” when necessary for clarity.

Have you run into this type of “labelling” issue before? (Does anyone seriously use the term “vertically challenged”?)

Speak up:

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A Vow to Be Discriminate

Okay, I realize that title doesn’t sound like a positive thing (especially if you overlook the “be”), so let me explain. If I am not discriminate, I am by definition indiscriminate. And that is something I do not wish to be.

I enjoy supporting fellow writers. Exchanging feedback on query letters, discussing the ins and outs of the business, offering chocolate when the rejections come in, swapping manuscripts for critique … all high on my agenda. I’m happy to support with more than my time, too. I’ve bought several books (some hard copy, some eBook, and some both) over the past couple of years by writers I know. Often these are in genres I don’t normally read a lot of, but in these cases I know the writer personally, and I know that the quality of writing is up to snuff, so I put my money behind them. These have been both traditionally published and self-published books.

But I will not support only because the “I know the writer” half of the equation is met. For one thing, I know too many, and half of them are self-publishing these days. Even at 99 cents or $3, that can add up.

More importantly, that “writing is up to snuff” part is critical. Reviewing books publicly can be super-sticky for a writer, especially one who’s still seeking the ever-elusive agent and publishing deal. My even-handed criticisms might be based more on my decades of experience as a reader, but it just looks bad to have even a hint of “bashing” others.

So the only vote of support I might have for some books comes in the form of currency and/or downloads. If I don’t believe a book is worthy, for whatever reason, I think it’s okay for me to withhold that vote. Certainly, I don’t think I do myself, my fellow writers, and most importantly readers any favors if I contribute to artificially inflating the rankings/visibility of a book I don’t believe in.

The brunt of this falls on the self-published works, it seems, because there are so many among my acquaintances, and because the self-publishing process has an inherent reduction in quality control. I am not anti-self-publishing. I’m still actively considering it for myself. But I’ve always been picky and demanding when it comes to books. Super-picky, some might say. (Mindy McGinnis has her own way of putting it, as those of you who know her can guess.) That pickiness isn’t going to change (and shouldn’t, in my opinion) just because I’ve talked to the author.

So I’ll continue to check samples and listen to the opinions of those I trust. If I believe in the work, you can bet I’ll put everything possible behind it. I’ve already pre-ordered the eBook for Sophie Perinot’s debut in less than two weeks, and I also plan to hit a brick-and-mortar store release day to buy a hard copy … maybe two. (Who has a birthday coming up and likes historical fiction?) I’m already earmarking money for several copies of Mindy McGinnis’s debut novel (which I was privileged to read and critique pre-querying), and that doesn’t come out until Fall 2013.

Am I too picky? Am I missing the boat of Authorial Solidarity? Have you ever found yourself stuck between a writer-friend who wants your support and your integrity that says, “This really wasn’t ready to go out into the world?” How do you handle it?

Speak up:

2 comments