On Priorities and Possibilities

shlomi on June 27, 2013

Reading about authors with hundreds of short stories, a dozen novels. Knowing Jay Lake and his writing urge despite dire circumstances. I burn my creative candle on both ends: day work and client work, both in development. Writing, even poetry, gets such short shrift it might as well not be part of my gig.

Writing used to be a habit. Habits are actions we fall back upon during stressful or busy times. My mind fulminates with ideas for poems, stories, development ideas (software) and patents. I can’t possibly do any of them with my current load.

Now that I’m ~stably employed, it’s time for me to rethink to where my ship heads: land of opportunity or creativity. I’ve neglected the latter, but it’s part of why I left management, and it’s what turns my crank. I have a history of depriving myself in the name of self-sabotage. (Kinky, I know.) This is looking like a case of that. Time to change it.

On Slash as a

shlomi on April 25, 2013

Professor Anne Curzan, in her blog piece entitled “Slash: Not Just a Punctuation Mark Anymore,”  hails the use of “slash” in a sentence as an “innovative conjunction” or “conjunctive adverb.” She sites examples such as “Does anyone care if my cousin comes and visits slash stays with us Friday night?” Or “I went to class slash caught up on Game of Thrones…” [emphasis mine].

As a poet I play with words and usage all the time. However, I see “slash,” IMHO, as a form of grammatical laziness. Of course, YMMV. One can make the same case for Internet acronyms as for slash — with identical, in my opinion, results. Leave the slashing to the slashers. And/or poets.

Body of Proof & Crazy Soldiers, Revisited

shlomi on March 1, 2013

I don’t have a television or cable, but there are several shows I watch online as “guilty pleasures.” One of them is Body of Proof on ABC. Yes, I know, I know: it’s silly beyond all beliefs; the science is bad, the procedures are insane, and the plots… Well, the plots are the source of this post.

I remember all those horrible movies in the 70’s and 80’s. Crazed Vietnam vets were a wonderful plot card to play. The first two episodes of this show were just new clothes on the old dummy: crazed vets doing crazy things because of what they endured at war, and came home unappreciated, ignored, or discriminated against.

There’s more reason now than before to not just honor, but actively assist the vets in our communities. Many survived injuries to which their counterparts from the 70’s would have succumbed. We have more treatments, and more understanding of, PTSD (from which I suffer).

While shooting scripts need to pull in the target demographics, we need not denigrate military veterans in the process. It’s time the entertainment industry took the easy joke, easy madman, easy antagonist off the eye-level shelf, and put it behind glass. Respect is harder earned, easier lost in our instantaneous communication culture. They risked their lives in their country’s service: let’s give them preferential treatment.

On Focus (Again, and Again, and Again!)

shlomi on June 10, 2012

Six months ago for some reason I had a clearer “plate” for writing. But third rewrites, frantically writing down scraps of ideas for new stories, and working on what is turning out to be a monumental task for a simple thing (Google Charts embedded in WordPress, with data updates), plus the flotsam and jetsam of life’s issues, had made for a plate of raw squid tentacles (calamari, for those trying to keep with the metaphor) entangled with angel hair pasta, glued together in a sauce of lost time and chores.

And on my ride to work my train buddies ask “how’s the writing going.” It’s about discipline, I want to say. “And if you find mine, please give it back to me.”

So today I finish the rewrite of Generation to Generation so I can give it to one LAST reader before getting a {sigh} cover together.

Incidental Writing

shlomi on May 28, 2012

I’ve got a neighbor with a first-person-shooter problem. Well, it’s my problem, but his sub-woofers. I circulated this document to the folks in my building. So far, quiet. Maybe it’s because tomorrow’s Monday… We’ll see.

Still, it’s the kind of letter I’d like to receive if I were the guilty party. A bit funny, very clear in expectations, with just the slightest fillip of consequences. Feel free to distribute, but please don’t charge for this.

 

I Really Know How to Make Life Difficult

shlomi on April 22, 2012

In reading a bunch of space opera and humor/horror books lately (yes, it’s procrastination under guise of research), I’m realizing how difficult I make my writing life. My characters aren’t in a soap opera, they’re doing an ‘Around the World in 80 Days’ reshoot. In Induction, my main character goes through:

  • El Paso
  • Parts of New Mexico
  • Odessa, TX
  • Shep, TX
  • San Angelo, TX
  • New Orleans, LA
  • Parts of Oregon
  • Tacoma and parts of Washington
  • At sea
  • Towns in Russia
  • More at sea

Multiple descriptions of places throughout. My character would have to have an accompanying travelogue for the novel to be vividly visually described (I like the writing, it’s very readable, go buy it!). It’s tough to situate a character in one place after another. The character doesn’t get to act as if they’re on their turf. The scene is a character, and how the humans interact with the scene is as much an expression of the people as their dialog.

So I’m going to write something (well, adapt an existing piece) with that in mind. And write with more luster, more… cowbell.

Dusting Off “Finished” Pieces

shlomi on April 19, 2012

The problem with writing is that, with practice, it improves. I went back to a really nice piece I’d written, intending to slap formatting on it and bring it up as an e-book short story. (As I did with Consent a few days back — thanks to all of you who’ve purchased it for the exorbitant, crazy price of under a buck!)

My writing friend JNE calls ’em ‘vampire words.’ They suck energy from scenes, dull down dialog… and the dang story dripped with them. ‘Began.’ ‘Felt.’ ‘Seemed.’ ‘Was.’

Rewriting is a recursive experience. One sentence leans on the next, paragraphs on their neighbors, and the whole short story on it’s scenes. The patient lies still on its word processing operating table, mostly put back together, but with yet a distance to travel.

Hopefully I can figure out how to create a cover for it — I really need to learn how to draw.

CONTEST!!! Speaking of publishing, with all the folks buying Consent there aren’t any reviews. Any and all would be much appreciated! I’ll pick a reviewer at random and write them into a story I’m just wrapping up. The higher the rating, the better the character in the story!

On Writing

shlomi on April 18, 2012

Listening to NPR, where Jonathan Gotchall reviews lists three of his top books. On Writing, by Stephen King is at the top of his list. I’ve bought and given away three copies so far. It’s a brilliant book: it helped me understand that the craft of writing overlays the art of writing. But one needs both to create a memorable piece of work.

With Consent up and being purchased on Amazon (thank you one and all!), I’m getting ready to publish a short fiction piece, Generation To Generation, a story that’s vaguely religious (and termed ‘heretical’ by a couple of religious publications). It should be up in a few days.

The Next ONE

shlomi on April 17, 2012

I’m seeing life through late middle age, post-first marriage, eyes, wondering about the ifs and whens of my next. And, as a compulsive observer, I’m seeing the primal pursuit of happiness in a different light.

For those seeking trust, BDSM has its attractions. For those looking for love, sex is a reliable, if saccharine, stand-in. And those looking for a partner, friends with interlocking technical needs (e.g., shopping, assistance with living, a shoulder to reliably cry on), with or without benefits, fit the bill. And for the hunters, pursuit is their way of feeling their oats. Loners run the gamut of belonging, sitting in the corner of the ballroom of life and watch the dancing and mating games. From musicians to aesthetes, surface gregarians to profound hobbyists, they are present, if not true participants, living their lives in their heads to the expense of investing in the fickle chance of another.

What does this have to do with writing? Observations such as these are key, to me, in finding less-traveled ways to develop characters. In Consent (available at Amazon here for a mere pittance) my central character is cold and removed from her society, a sufferer of PTSD. Her re-entry into the “normal” society was, for me, the core of the story, not the technology or situation, however interesting they are.

How do your characters fit into the society around them? Are they stable in their milieu? What are they striving for? Who is their next ONE?