Preexisting Writing Conditions

 

Julia Cameron defines divas as those artists/creators who have to have everything JUST RIGHT before they can create. She notes that there's power in being able to create anywhere under any condition. I used to be that nimble, adaptable artist. Now, I'm not. I never wanted to be a diva, but I'm a diva.

I have a list of things that must be true before I can write.
1. I must be migraine free, or at least moving in that direction. Migraine directly and adversely impacts the language center in my brain. Words cannot escape the electrical storm inside my head to reach the external world. Some days, I lose speech. So really. To get words on virtual paper, not writhing in pain is strongly preferred.

2. I must be alone. Buckle up. This is a long one. Maybe you've noticed the long fallow period writing and I have been mired in. I sure have. Part of it is having four adults in the house at all times, thanks to a pandemic (and Dad's health issues.) I've always known I need a lot of space. A Lot. Prior to Covid, I got all of my alone time while people were still commuting to offices for work and the parents were out in the world going on adventures. When that shut down, pressure and heat and terrible stuff began building inside me. It drowned out the voices of my characters. After a while, it drowned out me altogether. It was at that point that my headache specialist noted I am suffering far more sensory issues than can be attributed to migraine. I mentioned it to a friend. This person reached through the internet, shook me and said, "You're autistic AF, and you're in autistic burn out." Uhm. WHAT? Found a therapist who broke it to me that my friend is right and it's time to learn what that means for me and how I cope with it. It's a great big rock dropped into the still pond of the life I thought I had. Lots of ripples, lots of reframing my past, lots of 'Oh. THAT'S why that happened that way.' With help and resources, I've learned what masking is and, in part, how and when to stop doing it. I've figured out what my stims are, and I'm allowing myself to use them. Most importantly, the reason I need to be alone is so I can drop all the masks and not have to worry about what someone else sees or feels as a result. It seems to be working and actively helping. Words are flowing again. Characters are talking to me and volunteering scenes. I'm hopeful.

3. A locking door. This goes back to being alone. Fortunately or unfortunately, my cats are clever enough to open a latched door. There's something about me writing that makes me popular to ALL the felines. Never am I so loved as when I dare to pay attention to something without fur for two hours a day. How dare my every waking thought not be about the felines? They tag team surfing the desk and my keyboard. They headbutt me in the chin. Hard. They flop into my arms and deploy the weaponized cute. They shake their tails in my face while blocking my computer screen. When the weather is reasonable, I can go out front into the enclosed porch. A bunch of accusing eyes glare at me through the sidelights. If they see me look their way, they add in their mournful wails of anguish that I don't love them anymore - alas, Mother! Why do you hate us so that you have shut us away from your loving embrace?? And maybe the lizards out front. It's very dramatic. When the weather is messy for one reason or another, I lock myself in my bedroom where I have a desk set up beside the window. I can chase cats out and close and lock the door - yes, I have an actual office, but there's no door on it. It's out there in the middle of the house with no means of shutting out the TV or attaining any kind of privacy. Not to mention the attention of every last cat in the house. It's a no go. Shutting myself in the bedroom results in Corvid rattling the door knob, body slams against the door in forlorn protest, and the occasional hissy scuffle while someone jockeys for the best position.  

4. Quiet - as part of the autism discovery process, it's clear I have auditory processing issues. Competing sound (TV on, someone talking to me at the same time) sends me right over the edge. If I'm trying to listen to voices in my head, I really need to not hear other voices. The closed doors help with this a lot. Ear plugs and/or noise canceling headphones playing ambient music drowns out the stray bits that leak through. I'm on a Wardruna kick at the moment. Yeah. I know there are voices, but I don't speak the language they're speaking. It works and I don't question.

I'm  going through a process of giving myself permission to need what I need. Even if it makes me a diva. I've had to give up any notion that I should be able to write the way other people write - either in word count or in when and where I *should* be able to write. Rather than trying to guilt myself into 'write anywhere, any time' I've tried making space for being weird. Embracing that has finally fixed the long-standing impression that I'm broken somehow. And hey. Words are happening again.

I'll take it.

I'll do anything for story, but I won't do that

 Taboo, you say?

I'm not against leveraging a good taboo now and then. Have done, in fact. Certain cultures have a taboo against writing anything into the skin. Tattoos are equated with magic spells etched into your body that have to pull their energy from somewhere. I definitely used that in the Nightmare Ink books. How could I not? It lends itself so well to 'what if' and to imagining the unintended consequences of flouting the taboo. That's tasty stuff and I did my best to respect the cultures that hold that taboo to this day. It's important to me that my characters face down whatever chaos results from the choices they make.

But.

I draw a personal line at taboos that hurt or exploit innocents. Want me to hurt animals? You can piss right off. You'll always be able to read my stuff with the assurance that the dog will not die. In my world, some taboos deserve to remain untouchable forever. I feel like the line between taboo and kink is informed consent. Taboo is about victimizing someone. Kink is about having a good time while playing with the edges of what's deemed acceptable by society. Based on that, I'm pretty dead set against breaking taboos in my stories unless doing so drives my point of view characters. My mains characters knew what they signed up for when they volunteered for a story. They get what they get. I'm going to do my best to push them past what they think of as their limits. I'm going to do damage that they have to either recover and grow from or wither and die from. But handing over some innocent bystander to a bad guy for some taboo breaking simply for shock value or to 'show' you how bad my bad guy is? No thanks. First, there are taboos that do not bear thinking about in any way, shape, or form. If I hate the whole notion of certain taboos, I'm not going to write them. There are too many other ways to get at what I need to motivate characters to change. Second, there are taboos that aren't a part of my experience and I do not have the authority to speak to them or represent them in fiction. I might not be able to get inside of those taboos to comprehend what purpose the taboos serve. By that I mean that most taboos are protective - they're meant to stave off harm to individuals, a clan, a culture, or a society. I had a boss who had immigrated from Iran explain that the prohibition against pork in his culture was a protective measure against trichinosis. That's understandable. An example of a taboo I can't understand is a current Tik Tok semi-comedic, semi-horror meme. It comes from Appalachia where the saying is "If you hear someone call your name from the woods, no you didn't."  I understand the intent - to protect you from vanishing into the wild never to be seen again. Whether it's bug or feature, though, I don't comprehend it because I lack the imagination to grasp not having a modicum of power over what happens to me when I walk into the woods to investigate something I heard. This taboo isn't my story to tell. I lack the mindset and experience of people who grew up with grandmothers who drilled the taboo into their heads.

Yes. I'd probably be one of the first to die in a horror movie, killed because I foolishly rolled my eyes at a taboo I couldn't wrap my brain around. 

What I'm Glad I Didn't Know When I Decided to Become a Writer

This week at the SFF Seven we're discussing what we wish we'd known when we decided we wanted to write.

It's an interesting question, and a fraught one. I first decided that being a writer would be the perfect career for me back in 1993. That's almost 30 years ago, so it isn't easy to think back to that younger self. At the time, I was completing a Ph.D. in neurophysiology and confronting the bald truth that I didn't really want to be a research scientist. I sat myself down, meditated, and asked the question: if I took away all the if's and's and but's, what would be the ideal life.

No one was more surprised than I was to hear that the answer was to be a writer. But I also knew it was a true answer and that, if I wanted to be happy, I had to do whatever it took to make that come true.

So, I cut bait on my Ph.D., got a Masters and a job as an editor/writer to start building my chops. I took night classes from visiting writers. I began writing, something, anything.

What do I wish I'd known then? It's tempting to say I wish I'd known how long it would take before I truly began earning a living as an author. My conception then of how long it would take was absolutely the largest lacunae of ignorance in my hopeful moonscape. I thought it would be a couple of years, not a couple of decades. I totally thought I'd hit it big. I thought my steady progression of successes, for which I am grateful, make no mistake, would have a steeper upward trendline. 

And yet... I'm actually glad the younger me didn't know how protracted that effort would be, how studded with setbacks and pitfalls. Had I known, would I still have done it?

I don't know.

Sometimes I think our ignorance at the outset of an ambitious enterprise works in our favor. Ignorance truly can be bliss, especially when it allows hope to flourish, hope that carries us through the difficult times. 

Maybe what I really wish I'd known back when I made that decision is that it was the right one. But then, I knew that anyway. 

Pandemics, Politics, and Face Plant

This photo is 100% representative of the past two years of writing for me. The picture is from July 2021. I'd just face-planted on a downtown Austin sidewalk. Fat lip. Broken nose. 

So yeah. Pandemic. Politics. Face-plants. I've been a mental and emotional train wreck since January 2020. I've finished nothing. I've barely managed to put one word in behind another on a book that should have been finished in late 2019. 

Why?

1. Lock down and unrelenting introvert exhaustion. Don't get me wrong. I love my family. Most of the time. But I need serious alone time. THERE'S BEEN NONE FOR TWO YEARS AND I'M ABOUT TO CRACK. Four adults and too many cats in one house has been crushing to this introvert. 

2. Living with someone who's immune-compromised. If you look up 'COVID-19 comorbidities' you'll find my father's photo. That's a lot of worry and a lot of pressure. It meant living in several months of fear that one of us would bring illness home and kill my father. As a result, no one went anywhere. For a really, really long time. Even past being vaccinated. To this day, no one goes anywhere unless double masked. It also means that while I used to be able to leave the house to get some alone time out in the world, you can see how THAT stopped.

3. I picked up a day job. Initially, when I picked up the technical writing gig, there was plenty of time and brain space for fiction. Then the projects at work kicked into high gear and ate my brain. 

Now, there are parts of life in these times that I cannot impact. I can't do anything about a pandemic. Nor can I do as much about politics as I'd like. But I can change how work happens and the day job is scaling back in January. I can't change the fact that life has fundamentally shifted. The parental units both need extra help and I'm having to adjust to the fact that alone time is going to be thin on the ground for the foreseeable future. 

Adapt or die. I thought it was a movie slogan. I'd never expected a bit of Jurassic Park to apply to me.
 

Writing: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

 Ah, the idealism of the new author. Everything is so shiny. All possibility lays before whatever debut book is about to hit the world. That pivotal moment is the very best part of writing. Anything could happen. Then the book is published and an author's fortunes fall as they may. This is my list of the best and worst part about the journey.

The Good

• Finishing a book. There's nothing like that feeling. Nothing. I love solving story problems to the point that I wrap a story. 
• Editing. Fixing what I've written plays to my strengths - which, in case you're wondering - are overthinking and paralysis by analysis.
• Readers. 

The Bad

• First drafts. OMG, y'all. I so want this to come easier, but see the above line about overthinking. Now you can add in second guessing and not trusting myself.
• Finding/creating the time and space I need to do the deep work I need to do in order to write. Turns out moving your parents in with you during a pandemic isn't conducive to silence and contemplation.
• Isolation. The pandemic nonsense has zapped a bunch of us who need to come together once in awhile in some kind of evil master mind convention and trade energy.
• Daily chronic migraine. SO gets in the way. We're working on it. I swear.

The Ugly

• Me. Drafting. Again. Drafting is my own Sisyphean task. WANT TO FIX. Help me fix me!
• Having someone you need to be able to trust abuse that trust by withholding vital communication. This is a thing. Remember you own your own business. Don't be afraid to fire people. Somedays it's necessary. But it's definitely bad.
• My marketing. 

Death Matters

 

This week's topic is: The Necessity of Death: Do you have to kill characters for there to be enough risk? What other threats work better/just as effectively?

First, let me say that I don't preach many rules in fiction. I think writers should hone their craft (meaning you should know how to wield your writerly tools such as grammar, structure, concept, etc., and everything should be done on purpose, down to word choice). But everything else? The cans/cannots? I don't go there because a deft writer can make something that's been labeled a no-no a work of art. It doesn't necessarily mean everyone will like it, but it also doesn't mean you can't do it. I have three beautiful doggies, and I can invariably say that I don't want to read or watch anything about dog death. And yet I watched a movie where a puppy's death in the first ten minutes motivated the main character to hunt down his enemy, and I cheered for him all the while. 

Why? Because that death mattered. This is really the only rule I'll preach on this topic. I think I've said before on this blog that it's good to make things personal, and death as a motivator is as personal as it gets. The threat of death makes characters act, as can a death itself. It can send a whole series of events into motion because, ultimately, most of us want to live, and we want those we love to live. We want innocents to live. Having that desire/need tested shows us what our characters are made of. It shows their mettle and morals, how much they'll bend those morals to get revenge or set things to rights. It shows us their determination, mental state, grit, and their inner landscape of turmoil, regrets, and hopes. Death is so deeply felt, and as long as it resonates within your character/s, I like to think that, chances are, it isn't a wasted moment on the page.

But are there other options for risk/stakes? Of course. A gazillion. Threaten someone's freedom and see what they do. Threaten to take their memory. The sight or hands or... the creativity of an artist. The voice of someone whose voice is everything. Destroy the only possible route out of a dystopic city where a character, alone, is trapped. Give them plenty of food. They can live. But there's no one else left. They're faced with a very desolate future.

All sorts of things can be used to drive and test our characters. Death is only one choice. But if it matters to the writer, chances are it will filter into their writing and hopefully matter to the reader. 

_______________________

Have you added The Witch Collector to your Goodreads lists? The Witch Collector is book one in Charissa's The Witch Walker Trilogy, coming 11.02.2021. Check it out!

Holding strong in the storm

 I hope the fact that I no longer live on a boat doesn't preclude nautical metaphors. Because here we are again. 

We all know the wind is going to blow in our lives. Most of us have learned to handle that wind and, in fact, use it to propel us. 

But those aren't the winds we're talking about this week. This week is about the storms, squalls, and cyclones. The chill and stinging rain and howling winds yanking and tugging and churning up the water of our routines and lives.

With Covid, we all know what that looks like now. Stress. Uncertainty. A little fear. In some cases, panic and desolation. 

When a storm sweeps in, the ideal place to be is moored to a solid mass. A dock. In a writer's case, that solid mass is a habit set deep in the bedrock of your days. A habit like Jeffe's. Tying up to that is safe. Reliable. Immovable. Sometimes you get a few hard bounces against the dock, but so long as your lines hold, your craft is safe.

The problem is that sometimes you're underway when storms spin up. No docks in sight. You're caught out in dangerous conditions. On a boat (and in matters of health and well-being), your single job is to keep your nose into the wind. Why? To keep from being capsized. If you can find shelter, you run for it. And then you set an anchor and give yourself a really, really long leash. That's what keeps your anchor hooked into the bottom of the seabed and your craft in a position to ride out the worst. 

Translated out of nautical metaphor: Tie up to the safety of established habit when you can, but when the horse feathers hit the fan and you can't fall back on habit, throw out an anchor. Let that anchor take the form of a craft class or anything that requires you to get your head in your writing for a few hours each week. 

Then give yourself grace. A lot of it. 

Remember. Your first job is protecting your health and well-being when storms roar in to knock you off course. When you're healthy, you have a million wishes. When you aren't healthy, you have only one wish. 

Don't let the storms steal your wishes.

Alexia's Go-To Writing Resource

 

Grammar Girl website

As a writer I’ve got pages and pages of bookmarked websites and a few writer groups I can go to with questions. I’ve also got a couple of books that get pulled off the shelf depending on what stage of creating I’m in. 

But the one reference I consult the most? I wish it were something cooler, like Vivien’s popular science works she uses, or KAK’s Deviant Art obsession (which is totally valid). But for me, it’s a basic:

Grammar Girl’s ‘Lay’ Versus ‘Lie’ post.

Go ahead. Laugh. I know I sure do.

It never fails, I'll be cruising through my WIP and someone or something has to put someone or something down. And then my brain goes into second-guessing mode. I try to rely on my gut and keep going, but inevitably I’ll end up clicking on my bookmarks folder to re-read through Grammar Girl’s tips. 

Which, I believe, brings about a good point. As all of us SFF Seven-ers have pointed out—there are GOBS of writing resources out there! You can find a book or post on every topic I can think of and then some! You can throw yourself into research and never surface. 

if you don’t have the basics—

your writing will never accomplish what you want it to

But if you don’t have the basics, like knowing when to use lay and lie, your writing will never accomplish what you want it to and all of the time, effort, and sometimes money, you sink into the other resources is worthless. It’s like, if you want to be able to do a handstand you can’t just jump right to Adho Mukha Vrksasana. First you need balance, strength, endurance, flexibility, concentration and then you’ll be able to nail a handstand during your yoga practice. 

Back to the writing angle though, there’s a lot of aspects I want to get better at, and thankfully I’ve got Grammar Girl to help. So tell me, what basics do you struggle with? Comma use? Past and present tense switches? Go ahead, lay it on me! 

Which Are Better - the Easy Scenes or the Hard Ones?

 

This is a band of smoke from the California fires streaming into New Mexico. It's fascinating what an obvious demarcation it makes in the sky. Compare this to where I am (the blue dot) on the smoke map. So happy to be in the blue sky section today!

Our topic at the SFF Seven this week is the easiest scene we ever wrote and why. 

I have no idea what the answer would be for me - but I can tell you exactly why that's the case.

Easy writing or hard writing: doesn't matter and isn't worth thinking about. 

It's tempting to assign value to hard work. We grow up learning to focus effort and that hard work will be rewarded. We also celebrate talent and marvel at those people who accomplish amazing things when they're very young, challenged, or with brilliant ease.

So, we think: that was really difficult, so it must be valuable!

Or, we think: that writing poured out like clear spring water so it must be really good!

I'll tell you what I've learned. 

1. The hard-to-write scenes are exhausting and make me want to pull my hair out and give up being a writer. 
2. Those scenes that pour out are a sheer joy and making being a writer totally worth it.
3.  When I go back over the writing later, I have no idea which was which. I can't tell the difference.

I can't tell you what was the easiest scene I ever wrote, much less why. There's no rhyme or reason to it. Some writing comes easy, some resists so hard that every word is like pulling a tooth. The only effect is on my attitude, so I do my best to remind myself of this:

Easy, hard, fast, slow - it's all progress and that's the only thing that matters. 

Plot Bunny Mob

Plot bunnies are everywhere. In everything. In everyone. In snippets of conversations overheard in what passes for public these days. There's no need to hunt them. If you're open to them, you'll stumble over them at every turn. A little like tripping over a cat who wants to be fed.

Plot bunnies carry no malice as far as I can tell. Might they be distractions wrought by a brain desperate for a bit of cognitive conservation of resources? Sure. Human brains consume a crazy high percentage of the daily calories we consume. We're designed to want to shirk heavy mental loads. So along come plot bunnies to tempt us to follow them into the weeds in a day-dreamy daze. They could also just be the delight of human brains that are designed to take a bunch of disparate data bits and combine them into new and interesting patterns.

I can't say I notice that plot bunnies strike more often while I'm supposed to be working on something else. In fact, quite the contrary. For me they mob me when I'm already doing something else - something like taking a walk, washing dishes, vacuuming the floor - anything physical that requires low cognitive input. Ideas come gamboling out of nowhere. So it pays to have a strategy for handling them. Otherwise, you end up starting twenty bijillionty things and finishing exactly zero. Don't ask how I know this.

I pat my plot bunnies on their furry little heads, smile, and say, "It takes a number, and it stands in line." The idea gets jotted down in barest form - a few sentences - just enough to spark the idea back into life at a later time. The file gets a name and gets remanded to a folder with the imaginative name of "Story Ideas." 

Have I ever mined that folder? Indeed, I have. The Nightmare Ink books were an idea languishing in "Story Ideas" folder when I hauled it out and got to serious work on it. The books and the original plot bunny bear only the slightest resemblance to one another. When a bunny graduates from the "Story Idea" folder, it gets a name of its own that serves as the working title for whatever it's going to become. 

It means I have plot bunnies in various stages of metamorphosis. Some are still itty-bitty things nibbling grass. Others have turned into the Vorpal Bunny of Antioch. They've got these big teeth. I have one of them chewing on me right now. It looks a lot like Frankenstein's bunny, being a mishmash of Civil War historical, fantasy, and a little horror. It doesn't know what it wants to grow up to be, so we just keep staring at one another over the pages of the SFR I'm contracted for. So yes. Sometimes, the plot bunnies start looking a little like the clown from IT.

Writing Through the Rough Patches

Getting past stuck or numb or despondent or any other major block is as individual as the writer, I suspect. I carry a bag of tools around (virtually, y'know) to help when I sit staring at a blinking cursor for too long. Try a few of them on for fit.

1. The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron. This is a 25 year old book about breaking through creative

blocks. It's still popular because for a lot of people, it works. I'm working through it myself, right now. If you try this, don't just read it. USE it. Even if it seems hokey.
2. Expeditions. No one creates in a vacuum. And sometimes all that's needed to shake the brain loose is a trip to a museum or art gallery or botanical garden. Maybe a hike in the woods or a trip to the beach. All safely masked and socially distanced, of course.
3. A break. I'm on writing hiatus this week - in part because another class of medication failed to prevent migraines and came with a host of really awful side effects. The weight of not getting the productivity I thought I ought to be achieving each day (while suffering chronic daily migraines) got to be more than sanity could support. Hence a little break. It's all good. I have a new med that seems to be helping and a little lightening of the load for a few days seems to really be shifting things. Don't overlook the power of a break to refresh you and your outlook.
4. Repetitive physical tasks. Bonus if they're outside. Many times, a block is little more than over thinking. Something I would know nothing about. 🙄 So I go out into the garden and pull weeds or plant flowers. Getting into the dirt is mostly a mindless task, but it takes just enough brain power to absorb the critical brain and leaves the subconscious/story brain free to do a little roving.
5. Create something else. Cook. Sew. Draw. Color. Paint. Build models. Whatever. Just make it something you don't make money from. No professional pressure. This is about wasting time on profitless (or so we imagine) play. You recover a little sense of joy in doing the things that aren't quite as fraught as writing.
6. Ask for an immersion weekend. Ask the fam to support and protect your weekend from all interlopers (including them). You need supportive and cooperative family for this one - because someone else has to take ALL responsibility for keeping life and limb together for a weekend while you do nothing but type as fast as you can on a story even if you don't know what happens next. The point here is to have people bring you things - tea, goodies. You're asking to be taken care of for two days while you let slip all responsibility for anything and everything. I won't pretend that guilt doesn't creep in. It does. Then you remind yourself that for two days nothing is your circus and those are not your monkeys. Someone else can handle them. Your circus is the story. Make it ridiculous just to see what happens.

It really helps to have an entire arsenal against stuckness. Not only do different people need different tools, what works for you one time may not the next, so having options tips this whole creating thing in your favor.

My Secret Weapon: a Writing Habit

Our topic at the SFF Seven this week is "Writing through your Achilles heel - How do you keep writing through [whatever it is that prevents/stops your writing]?"

I think I was supposed to fill in my particular [whatever it is that prevents/stops your writing], but I don't think I have a specific Achilles heel that way. Not that I don't encounter obstacles to getting my words in every day! There are multitudes of those things, from Stupidly Trivial to Truly Important. When I was a newbie writer, even the Stupidly Trivial stuff won all the time. These days, only the Truly Important stuff gets in the way of writing, and even then I bounce back quickly, all because of my secret weapon.

My secret weapon is: my writing habit.

I'm a huge fan of building a writing habit. Because I've spent the last twenty years developing a writing habit, it's so refined now, so solidly at the center of my daily life, that writing almost happens of its own accord.

Sometimes, sure, I have to fight the megrims, the tooth-pulling days, the sheer don'-wannas - but the writing habit has me at my desk, writing anyway. Even if I take a deliberate sick or vacation day, I feel weird not writing, because the habit is tugging at me. I feel like something is missing until I get back to it.

Human beings are creatures of habit - both good and bad. Habit takes over when we're not deliberately working against it. We all have bad habits we'd like to kick - and know from experience how freaking hard that is to do! Why not take advantage of this force of nature and our deepest selves, and build a good habit that's hard to break?

Building a solid writing habit is the best thing I ever did, which is why I emphasize it in my Author Coaching Services. 

But you can do it on your own! Find a time when you can write at the same time, every day, even if for only five minutes. Or one. I know it's super hard to carve out that time. When I started doing this, the only time I could find was at 5am - and I am NOT a morning person. But I wanted to build a writing habit more than I hated getting up so early. If you absolutely CANNOT find a consistent time slot, then hinge it off something else that is consistent: like lunch hour at the day job, or when you get home from work, or right after you put the kids to bed. The most important aspect is that consistency, because that's what builds the habit. 

Do this for 30 days - because that's how long it takes to build a habit - and keep doing it. After that, you can move it around without breaking it. It can adapt and change over the years - and it will take on a life of its own. It will feed you instead of you feeding it. 

Seriously, the best thing for my writing I ever did. 

Bad Habits of Writing: The Beloved Words

What, oh what, had babits do I have in my writing? What things do I do over, and over, and over in my books, regardless of genre?

Dear reader, I have a list of Beloved Words that I overuse. It's a long list. During the drafting phase, my focus is on getting the story told; very "put words on page" versus getting hung up on selecting unique actions that demonstrate emotions. I can get lost in the weeds in an instant, massaging a single sentence for weeks as deadlines shoot past me. It's not something of which I am proud.

Then again, I'm not proud of the 142 occurrences of eye rolls, arm pats, growls, chuckles, or really any of the hundred+ go-to phrases I flog. Really bad is when those beloved words appear on the same page...more than twice. ~cringe~

Policing my beloved words is 100% my least favorite part of editing. I do it; otherwise, I'd have to retitle my works to "The Book of Batted Lashes, Volume 16."

To those readers who catch beloved phrases I don't realize I have: Sorry. I'm trying to be less annoying.

Writing Through the Cycle of Despair

Happy Groundhog Day! In celebration of this (dubious) holiday, we here at the SFF Seven will be discussing that THING we find ourselves doing over and over in our books. If that's not scary, I don't know what is.

Just last weekend I did a video chat with an author friend, because I asked for her help with some brainstorming. We also chatted about our current projects and deadlines. Now, she's had multiple books on the NYT Bestseller list and commands enviable advances. She has a large and passionate fandom. But she was at the phase of her current book where she doubted *everything* about it.

I said, "the phase where you're certain the book is not only TERRIBLE, but the one that will destroy your career forever?"

And she said, "YES!"

This is an inevitable Groundhog Day cycle for me. (For those who don't know, this metaphor comes from the 1993 Bill Murray/Andie MacDowell movie, Groundhog Day, where he is trapped reliving the same day in an infinite loop. If you haven't seen it, it's both entertaining and a terrific analogy for working through the same issues repeatedly until we find our way out of them.)

My Groundhog Day writing cycle goes like this:

Baby love -> potty training -> school years -> horrible teen that smells bad and begs you to kill them -> off to college -> adult reconciliation

I know that's a metaphor within a metaphor, but I feel that's on brand for me.

Basically, when I start a draft, everything is joy, cuddles and sweet-smelling new everything. Then there's a bit of wrestling to get it to behave - the potty training phase - but then I settle into helping the book grow up, get smarter, stronger, bigger.

And then we hit the teen years. The teenage phase for the book is when it totally rebels. It drags bad company home. It smells terrible and is generally filthy in every way. It's recalcitrant, miserable to be around, and you begin to wonder if you should kill it and bury it in the back yard to spare society.

That's when I'm utterly convinced that the book is not only TERRIBLE, but the one that will destroy my career forever.

It's funny because, even though this crisis occurs with every book, it's no less a black moment for that. Even though I *know* this is part of the writing cycle - that I've gone through it before and emerged with a good book - each time I hit that crisis it feels new and especially true. I'll actually think (and my friends will point out) that I've gone through this before, that it's a natural part of the cycle and to just keep going - and then the panicked voice will take over and shout:

NOT THIS TIME! THIS TIME IS REALLY IT! THIS BOOK IS SO EXECRABLE THAT IT WILL NOT ONLY FLOP, IT WILL CONTAMINATE EVERYTHING ELSE I'VE EVER WRITTEN OR WILL WRITE AND DESTROY MY CAREER FOREVER.

It even shouts in all caps like that.

I don't know why this is. It's a deeply emotional, even existential doubt that overpowers all rational sense. Sometimes I think it's a test from the universe, a chasm of despair that must be crossed to prove that you want to create the thing badly enough to keep going.

And eventually, if I keep going, the teenager gets their hormones under control and leaves home. Later we can reestablish our relationship as adults, with mutual respect and understanding.

Speaking of which, I have the copy edits in hand for THE FATE OF THE TALA. Barring disaster, I should be able to finish those today, which means the book will be live on the website store by Wednesday at the latest, and then going live on the retailers after that!!

My copy editor called it "A triumph!" Just saying. :D

Not So Big Career Goals

Enemy Games released Wednesday. *Insert Kermit flail.* You can find it in your preferred format from The Wild Rose Press site.

This book coming out is germane to our topic this week, because it turns out that having books come out is fun. And if you want some insight into the big career goals, here they are. In order of importance.

1. Have fun. Recall that my strong suit is problem solving. There's no plot hole so wide or so deep (of my making) that I can't build some kind of rickety ladder to get across it. And the place I get fun from is in the engineering and building of that ladder. File this away: It is possible I broken beyond repair because I'm like this.
2. Finish this series. Seriously. A decade of waiting is long enough.
3. Move on to the next world. The next characters. The next intriguing premise. And this time, remember that "No." is a complete sentence when someone asks if I can make that a series. Unless it IS a series. 
4. Make enough money to occasionally pay my mortgage. I realize this isn't asking for much. But even just that much would give me the springboard up to the next level.
5. Rule the world. What? Too next level?  

You've had yet another frightening tour of the inside of my head, now it's your turn. I want to know what goal setting methods you're using. Do you write them down? Make them SMART goals? Post vision boards? Keep a Bullet Journal? Practice arcane rituals with a Ouija board in the coat closet in the dead of night?

We're All Heroes Here: Guest Post

“Who is the hero of your book?” a prospective buyer asked me at my first real book signing.

I was in a cozy bookshop in the small town of Palmer, Alaska, wearing a warm sweater to protect against the November chill and a big smile as I held up a copy of my first published novel, THE DAY BEFORE. “The hero is Sam Rose, she’s an agent for-“

The buyer shook his head. “Not the heroine. The hero.”

“Protagonist?” I suggested, looking for a polite compromise.

“I don’t really like books with girls. I want to read about heroes.”

Dear Reader, I want to assure you that at this point I stayed professional and did not have to dispose of a corpse on my drive home through the mountains that night. I did recommend a copy of EVEN VILLAINS FALL IN LOVE to him since it is told from the point of view of a male protagonist, but the whole exchange nagged at me. It still does, year and miles removed from Alaska, it bothers me that someone dismissed a truly wonderful protagonist with a sneer and the word Heroine.

English is an odd language.

No, scratch that, English is a demon hobgoblin of a language that likes to ransack other languages and steal words from them. English likes to twist and torment words until they can mean the exact opposite of what they were originally intended to mean, literally!

Hero is sometimes seen as a masculine word only. There are people who want to read it as “the male hero” rather than “the protagonist” and this presents a problem.

It’s exclusionary, forcing the binary idea of male/female and hero/heroine.

It leads to the idea that being a hero means being masculine in a traditionally masculine way.

It leaves me standing there going, “But… I want to be a hero too!”

When we read there’s always some part of us that wants to identify with the protagonist. At some level, we want to see ourself in the story. That’s why we read some books and not others, isn’t it? Because some of them resonate or speak to us while others don’t. It’s why we want diverse fiction.

We want to see ourselves as the hero regardless of which gender we identify with.

This is a big universe, and we’re all heroes in ways big and small. The courage we show when facing challenges, the compassion we have for others, is a result of our choices – not our genders.

Here’s to the heroes!

A few other novels by Liana:

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Liana Brooks is a SF/F and romance authors who loves writing about the little choices we make and big chances we take that change the universe for the better. You can find her online at www.LianaBrooks.com, on Twitter as @LianaBrooks, and read her new stories on Patreon at https://www.patreon.com/LianaBrooks. She is currently working on her romantic space opera series, The Fleet of Malik, that starts with BODIES IN MOTION. The second book, CHANGE OF MOMENTUM, will be available this fall.

When Nature Says 'Hold My Beer'

Bear with me. I have a story to tell. This is Perceval. Perceval was rescued by a neighbor who presented the kitten for foster care as a 'he'. Then 'he' went into heat. He became she and (because of the aforementioned heat) developed a raging urinary tract infection. A sterile draw (with a needle and syringe) of urine at the emergency vet revealed a new mystery. Perceval had sperm swimming in her bladder.

Yes. I have male cats. They're shooting blanks. Have been since December of last year.

Thus, the vet proposed the notion that Perceval might just be both 'he' AND 'she'. Jeffe, on Instagram, instantly proposed swapping out Perceval's pronoun to They. Motion seconded, voted upon, and passed. Surgery was undertaken. It was a spay - there was a uterus and nothing more internally. Had Perceval been a true hermaphrodite, there would have been a set of male gonads as well as the female reproductive organs. There weren't. However, the doctor did point out that Perceval's external genitalia are ambiguous. While there's clearly female anatomy, it appears that a pair of testicles also tried to develop. They never fully formed, so the cat didn't have to have a neuter surgery on top of a spay surgery. And the mystery of the sperm in the bladder? We may never know. Subsequent checks of the boy cats confirms they're in the clear.

What does this have to do with writing characters in SFF? Simply this: Nature and life recently proved to me that they are far too ready, willing, and able to shatter our preconceived notions about gender, sex, and identity. So getting hung up on any kind of either/or question about who's what and therefore gets to love whom, when writing seems silly. SF and Fantasy is, to me, about who characters are as individuals - including their identities, preferences, marginalization, and how they cope. This may be privilege speaking, because I'm part of a population that doesn't often have to get to grips with being in mortal peril simply for existing. I suspect that shows in my writing because while I have a trans character, a bisexual main character, PoC as main characters - in my stories, these people are rarely under threat based on being either bi, or a PoC, or trans. Mainly because part of the joy of SF and Fantasy for me is getting to dabble in a world that's much broader than this one - one that encompasses possibilities and embraces them. I'd like to think that makes me idealistic rather than simply naive. Or worse, hurtful.

Honestly. Does anyone really think that when we finally do run into life out there in the stars that they're gonna all be CIShet/clear binary with no richness? No variety? No specialization and adaptation? If yes, do you science at all? Cause yeah, nature doesn't work that way. And so long as I'm writing, neither will I.

Sneaking Out the Back to Write

Even when I'm not writing, I'm writing.

Always. I mean, I assume everyone has felt like a stranger in a strange land in this life at some point. I cop to having felt that way most of my life, but I cannot be the only person who feels like a tourist to this planet and the guidebook omits some really critical information regarding the habits of the natives.

So I stroll the edges examining, observing, and taking field notes. It's what a writing teacher told me once. Our jobs, she said, are to see all of the things most other humans either couldn't take the time or couldn't bear to look at. And then we had to put it all on paper in some form or another. It does mean that no matter where I am, no matter what I'm doing, I'm observing. Cataloging. Parsing emotion from verbal content, shaking it all out, and mounting each nuance very carefully on well-labeled cards so I can rifle through them later looking for that single emotional response that's perfect for a scene.

If we're hanging out and you feel like I'm not entirely present, you're probably right. There's that part of me that always sneaks out the back to ideate. I don't mean it. Never do. Ask my long suffering family.

Still. 

Watching is part of the process, I cop to that. But there's nothing quite like doing. I'd rather be writing.

For those following along, the boys are 10 weeks old now. Here's Corvid suffering from a nap attack. Those gray lips slay me.

Writer brain: the perpetual machine

“Even when you’re not writing, you’re writing.” That’s our topic this week.

Thing is, I’m not always writing. But I am always writer-braining (totally is a verb).

Example: This morning over coffee, hubs and I were talking about the new Stephen Hawking book and how in it the (sadly, late) professor laments the current glut of published research. Fifty years ago, you could read everything that had been published on a slice of science. Now, though, even if you narrow your field strictly, it is impossible to consume every scientific paper published on the topic. There simply aren’t enough hours in the day… for a human person.

And just that easy, I slip into writer-brain/questions mode: For a computer, though, what if it was possible to process every bit of information, to hold it all in sacred data storage and constantly analyze it? How long would it take the computer to realize it knows more than the humans? I mean, if it was doing deep learning, I’d give us, what, ten years? Twenty? Maybe not even that long.

Would the (omniscient, if not omnipotent) computer, knowing also everything of human psychology research, be kind to us? Or would it judge us? Or would it just let us run on our little hamster wheels while it—the real intelligent species now—went on and took over the world and colonized space because clearly we are too limited a creation to participate in the Big Projects.

What if there is already a computer right now doing the Big Projects while we run furiously on our political WTFery and social media and vapid entertainment hamster wheels?

And poof, there’s a story seed. Right there in my brain.

I will never write that story. There are literally hundreds of similar “what if…?” files on my computer and in my Things Of Coolness spreadsheet. They might inform pieces of the stories I write someday, but mostly they are the cogworks that make up the squeaky, rusty, slow-moving machinery of my writer brain.

I bet you have those, too. Yours may be shinier.

The point is that you can take a writer’s fingers off the keyboard, but you can’t really stop a stop her brain from iterating. So let it.

POV Invitation

The beasts have breached the sanctity of the bed! It's adorable, but it's also slightly short on sleep. Still. They have a hard time working out that bed means sleep. This picture to the contrary notwithstanding. They seem to only want to sleep in the bed when the humans aren't in it. If the humans are in the bed, then it's a playground. Oh. And the elder girls are horrified by this development.

All righty. Why were we here? Oh yes! POV. You've had definitions. You've seen arguments regarding which POV goes with which genre. Some of us have expressed our preferences regarding which POVs we prefer either to read or to write.

Here's my slightly out on the fringe rant about Point of View.

It's an invitation. Point of view is my engraved invitation to you to enter into an emotional journey. How I word that invitation dictates how you'll experience the emotional arc of the story and the characters. First person asks you to step into the roll of main character. Third person puts you at a slight remove from that, but it allows you to slip on the masks of multiple characters rather than just the protagonist's. It's my job to decide how deeply I want to immerse you into the feelz of a book. If I'm writing Women's Fiction, deep emotion is the expectation and first person is going to make it easy for me to pull you in. Not to say that Women's Fiction can't be third person. It  can and often is. It's just that deep POV in third person is harder work.

Summary on that: POV is a tool that dictates how readers will experience emotion in a story. Know your story, your genre expectations, the limits of your toolset and then go forth and break all the damn rules about POV and story just to see if you can make it work.

Why do I say that? I have distinct opinions about what POVs I prefer. Distinct. Opinions. And every single time I voice them, someone comes along and writes a POV I profess to hate. They do it so skillfully that I end up loving it. So maybe I am finally learning to say, 'hey, with enough vision, skill and drive, you can make anything work.'

Another note on POV - I draft in first person and then (if the story calls for it) rewrite to third person. It's a tip an editor gave me back at the dawn of time. It was one of those things I shrugged figured I'd try once and discard, but it stuck. It forces me to really immerse into a character and connect with what's going on in a story. Does it make rewrites a pain in the kazoo? Absolutely. And yet if I try to skip it and write straight to third person, my beta readers throw things at me because half of the emotion is missing. So there you are. I write weird, I guess.

I'm sorry I don't have great golden wisdom to impart about point of view and how to pick which one is best. Emotion governs the decision for me - not mine. The reader's. Once I know what and how much I want readers to feel, I can make a POV choice. And like Jeffe said. No one wants to notice POV. They just want that invitation slipped into their hands so they can edge into the story and lose themselves  in it.

In keeping with the incredible shit storm that has been today, I'll tell you that I wrote this post yesterday and scheduled it for super early this morning. No problems right? Imagine my surprise when I check in on the blog tonight and my post is nowhere. Uhm. Blogger? Oh look. My SFF Seven THEMED post went live on some other random blog site. Nice. I'm comfortable certain those people think I am out of my damned mind. They may well be right.