Conventions vs. Conferences

Things are heating up at the Clark Kent job, so you haven't seen much of me lately. The summer is when I'm busiest, 'cause that's when we're slow. It's my job to get people in the door. So, I'm working ALL THE TIME. Which doesn't leave much time for anything else except sleeping in the coldest place I can find (and fit in to; it's no good to fall asleep with your head in the freezer 'cause you just end up on the kitchen floor). South Carolina is HOT this week, friends and neighbors. And it ain't gettin any better any time soon.

It's probably all for the best as I'm taking a little break creatively to let my brain rest after finishing the novel. I've been tinkering with the short story I was talking about last week and have no doubt I'll finish it in the next few days, but it's nice not to feel pushed... especially when "real life" is so insistent upon intruding.

Right now I'm working on figuring out the South Carolina Writers' Workshop Conference. I hadn't given much thought to the conference before this - I'll go and meet people and shake hands and buy a few books and listen to some panels was pretty much my plan - but now that I've started reading in-depth about what's being offered, I'm more excited than I was before... there's a lot of classes being offered, and a chance to talk with faculty about your novel, and query assessments... all kinds of stuff. You can come a day early and participate in intensive classes that are, like, four frickin' hours long. Which I really wanna do.

But, of course, it all costs money... and I'm trying to figure out the things that are worth the money and the things which aren't (should I care about a formal dinner with all the faculty of the SC Writers' Workshop including a keynote speech and awards banquet for the members of the SCWW, which I'm not a member of?). If I had lots of expendable income, I'd sign up for everything, but that's about $600 worth of stuff plus the hotel room plus the gas money to get down there... so close to $1000? There's no frickin way.

Any suggestions about what I should include or leave out? The schedule of events is here, and the prices are here. There's also add-ons like pitch sessions ($10, definitely worth the extra cash) and real-time query assistance ($25, probably worth the extra cash), but there's also prose critiques ($50-$100, is it really worth it?). I'm terrible at this. I've never done it before. Any and all advice is much appreciated.

Going through all this information has made me even more excited about the World Horror Convention next year... and it's really teaching me the difference between conventions and conferences. Conferences have classes and mixers. Conventions have booths and panels. Uh... right?

Still Shiny

Not yet... no, the shiny hasn't worn off yet. I'm still getting used to this feeling. I've been pushing myself for the last ten months, and now suddenly all that pressure is gone. It's such a crazy sensation - part accomplishment, part happiness, part awe, part excitement... liberation... and everywhere I look are new projects, new stories. Every idea I come across excites me. I've been hyper-focused on one thing for so long, I feel like a person who's been denied everything but grilled cheese sandwiches for a year and is now standing at the doors of a super buffet. I want to try everything!

Friday night I was drifting off to sleep and my mind automatically turned to the book. For the better part of a year, every night as I fall asleep I think about the novel and where it's going, what the next scene is, characters, etc. On Friday night I suddenly realized I had nothing to think about, because the project was done! I changed tactics and started thinking about a little concept I'd stumbled across a couple of weeks ago, and suddenly a short story fell into my head. Whole, Complete. I'm going to write it this week. How cool is that?!

Hmmmm? What's it about? Oh! You know those shoes you see on the road sometimes? Just one random shoe, out in the middle of the highway? Yeah... it's about where those come from. Ha, weird, I know. But I think it'll be a fun little story to write.

Oh, and the South Carolina Writers' Conference opened their registration this weekend. Who's got two thumbs and is going to that conference in October?


No, not Captain Kirk... but that was a good guess, considering the misleading picture above. Although that WOULD be incredibly awesome... But anyway, the answer is ME! I'm going! Wahoo!

For Music Monday, I'd like to share the song "Can You Feel It?" by the Jackson 5... because that's how I'm rolling today. Give it a chance, it's a fantastic song, and it's pretty much how I feel right now...



Indescribable happiness here today. How about you?

Reset Button

Hello, friends!

I've been absent from the internet for the past few days because I've been out of town. I went to the coast to celebrate a friend's upcoming marriage and we had a fantastic time. It was something I didn't know how much I needed until I was back home and thinking about how much better I felt after unplugging from everything for four days.

I've been living in my own little thundercloud for the past six weeks or so, and I didn't even realize how much the storm had consumed me until I was suddenly away from it with no way to get to a phone or the internet. Instead of the panic I was expecting, all I felt was a blessed form of relief. On the way home (a four hour drive by myself), I did a lot of thinking about my current situation - with the book, the Clark Kent job, everything. Being away from the whole scene helped me see how much I've been stressing out about everything, from word count to work duties, and how much of a toll it's taken on me. At least half of stress is perception based - you may not be able to change your stressors, but you can choose how you react to them - and I'm so grateful that I was given a chance to see that I need to change my perceptions about my daily life.

Instead of beating myself over the head with the goal of finishing the book by the end of May, I'm being a lot more kind to myself and rejoicing in how much work's been done. I know I'll finish, and probably within the time frame I've given myself - but I no longer feel as if I've failed or am in danger of failing an important task I've given to myself. The Clark Kent job does not feel like a prison sentence; it seems like a gift again. I'm refreshed and ready to finish this novel and get on to the next step in my life.

And when I got home, I saw so many lovely people have passed on my Pay it Forward giveaway on their blogs, twitter and Facebook! How incredible! You guys are an inspiration! It was amazing to see how things had progressed in the four days I was gone. Not only did more than ten people blog about the giveaway, but I also now have 121 followers! Only four more 'til the MYSTERY PRIZE is included in the booty list! (Booty list... now that was just fun to type, heh).

Are you stressing about something right now? Is it weighing down on you, or racing through your mind, keeping you from being calm? I know you might not be able to physically get away like I did this weekend, but try to mentally take a step back from that stress and see if you can take a different approach to the problem. Breathe - in through the nose for a four-count, hold it for a seven-count, let it out slowly through your mouth for an eight-count. Feel better? Need to vent? The comments section is always open.

Pay it Forward Update

Hello all! I announced my very first blog contest, the Pay it Forward Giveaway, on Friday of last week, and I have a couple of updates about it for you!

First, THANKS for all the wonderful comments, reposting, and goodwill-spreading! I've gotten a great response for this so far! I can only hope the two weeks will continue to be as amazing as the first few days of the contest were. In just three days, I received over 200 entries from interested bloggers! WOW!

I also gained 11 followers already - YEAH!! Welcome, new folks! Take a look around! Here are a few entries for you to peruse while you're here. They're some of my most popular posts, and you can learn a bit about me and my blog if you decide to take a gander:

Lycanthropy Awareness (from Arlee Bird's A to Z blog challenge)
A Fine Romance, With No Pages
Clark Kent vs. Superman

11 new people! That means we only have 14 more to go before a MYSTERY PRIZE gets added to the contest! Whoooo!! I think I'm as excited about that mystery prize as I am about the contest itself!

Also, Curt and Shane from Mooks in the Movies have thrown something out there to be added to the Pay it Forward Giveaway grand prize! As you know, the winner gets to choose EITHER a $25 gift card to the bookseller of their choice OR what I like to call an "Author Sponsorship Package" which includes me purchasing your published work (up to a $25 value), reviewing it on the blog and your bookselling website of choice, giving you and your work plugs on my Twitter and Facebook and hosting an author spotlight on my blog for you. Well, Curt and Shane are adding this little gem to that package:

To sweeten the pot, I am offering this. In addition to the sweetness of her prizes, we Mooks will name a character in one of our screenplays after the winner! You heard it right folks! Now, with respect to people's privacy, we will handle that this way:

We can name the character using your first name, screen name, or just a name you really like. We will also post a link to the winner's preferred media here on our blog as well. So, if you are the winner, you get your name used in one of our screenplays, and we will announce you as the winner, with a link to your blog, website, whatever!

How cool is THAT?? Awesome, huh? If you haven't had a chance yet, get on over there and follow their blog! You'll get +7 entries in the contest for it!

Also, Kierah Jane Reilly did her own spin on the Pay it Forward contest here. She started a really neat trend on her blog that's spread out to at least four other blogs so far... can't wait to see how far it goes! And I love your choices for the "In real life hangout", Keirah!

One more thing... the Pay it Forward Giveaway is inspiring another group of writers to compose some Pay it Forward drabbles! If you don't know what drabbles are: they're pieces of flash fiction, written in exactly 100 words. No more, no less. I can't wait to see more about this and share it with you as it develops!

Thank you so much to everybody who's gotten involved with this! I love this community!

The Pay it Forward Giveaway ends at midnight on Monday, May 31st! If you'd like to know more, visit this link for details!

Pay it Forward Giveaway

Hello, friends!!

First, THANKS for all the kind comments on the entry regarding color in prose yesterday! I'm excited so many people liked the idea. And YES, I hit 100 followers! *internet high fives all around* Thank you, everybody!

Second, a story -

I pulled the cash out of the bank envelope. A hundred dollars cash back, just like I'd...

Wait a sec.

Four twenties and a hundred? I checked my deposit receipt and blinked in surprise. It showed the amount I'd asked to be deposited.

Eighty extra dollars...

I've told you a little about my life, enough for you to know I'm pretty damn poor, right? Eighty dollars. SO much money. And in cash... untraceable, I said to myself. I kept seeing the little yellow Community Chest card from Monopoly.

I drove around the block. Take it back or keep it? My brain was yelling for that cash. But my gut and my heart were reminding me of KARMA... and I just couldn't in good conscience keep the extra money. It wasn't mine to keep! Before I could talk myself out of it, I went back to the bank and went in.

When the teller counted her drawer and realized I wasn't joking about an extra eighty dollars in my envelope, she looked at me, pale in the overhead fluorescents. Her eyes were wide. "Thank you," she said in a trembling voice. "You literally just saved my job." She went on to explain that anything more than a $50 discrepancy in a drawer was grounds for instant termination.

She also told me that she had never experienced a customer coming back in to give back money after a mistake had been made. She looked at me as if I'd grown an extra head. Grateful, but wary.

She thanked me again, and I told her if she really wanted to thank me, she should just pass the good deed along. She gave me a little smile and nodded. Who knows? It just might work.

End of the story. Well, that particular chapter, anyway. Or, perhaps it was a prologue? Because I'd like to announce my first-ever blog contest! Flourish of trumpets, please!

The B. Miller Fiction
Pay It Forward Giveaway
So... seems as if doing the right thing has gone outta style. I'd like to try to change that. And I'd like you to help me. First, let me tell you what the prize is ('cause I hate waiting, and I know you do too).

The grand prize for this giveaway is the winner's choice. EITHER a $25 gift card to Barnes & Noble (or Borders, Amazon, etc - whichever you prefer) sent directly to your preferred mail receptacle, OR...

If you are a writer with published work available for purchase, I will buy your novel/story collection/chapbook, etc., up to a value of $25. I will also read your work and give a review on your chosen website, as well as a review and a plug on my blog, Twitter, and Facebook fan page. I will go to my local library and booksellers and ask that your work be stocked on my local shelves in Greenville, South Carolina. And, if you're willing, I will do a guest feature on my blog for you, complete with interview and links to your media.

Yes! You're smiling! I can tell! Awesome!

OK, ready to hear the rules?

This will be, like many contests out there in blogland, a multiple-entry contest. Here are the basic ways to get entries:

Comment on this post: +1
New follower: +1
Old follower: +2
Tweet or post on Facebook about this contest: +2
Follow me on Twitter (@bmillerfiction): +2
Become my fan on Facebook (see sidebar): +2
Blog about this contest: +3
Include this post in your sidebar: +3

This contest is called "Pay it Forward" for a reason. I want to support my writing community however I can, which is why my grand prize is one of your books. I'd also like to help some fellow bloggers expand their audience. So, if you go follow any of these blogs, you'll get +7 entries in the contest.

Kierah Jane Reilly
Curtis and Shane at Mooks in the Movies
Dawn at Through the Looking Glass

Write a story or a poem about paying it forward. Post it on your blog, with a link back to this entry. You'll get +10 entries.

Still with me? OK, last thing... do something selfless. Doesn't matter what it is, as long as it's something outside of your usual routine. Something you have to go out of your way to do. If the recipient of your good deed asks you how they can repay you, tell them to pass the goodwill along to someone else. Post about this encounter in your blog. Link back to this post. Make sure to let me know with a comment (or send me an email at millerb75 at gmail dot com). For this, you will get an additional +25 entries.

This contest will run until the end of the month. I will be announcing the winner on Tuesday, June 1st. I'm also working to get the WIP MS done by the end of the month so we will have cause for a double celebration! YEAH!

I will also be giving away a MYSTERY PRIZE for each additional 25 followers on my blog. Oooooo... You can't resist a mystery, can you?! :D

Don't forget to let me know what you've done to up your contest entries. Post them on this entry or email them to me at millerb75 at gmail dot com. Remember, if you don't let me know what you've done, you won't get the extra entries. If you have questions, comments, etc, feel free to drop me an email.

Good luck, friends! Oh... and have a fantastic weekend!

Color Your Prose

Ever think about how color can affect the theme and mood of your story?

The movie Schindler's List, directed by Steven Spielberg, was almost completely shot in black and white... except for the little girl in the red coat. We see her through Schindler's eyes, standing out in the crowd of Jews waiting to be processed... then later, heaped onto a wagon of corpses, still wearing her little red coat. A lot of people have speculated about what the color red means - perhaps the red symbolizes a lost innocence, or the blood of the Jewish people spilled by the Nazis. But Spielberg himself had this to say:

"America and Russia and England all knew about the Holocaust when it was happening, and yet we did nothing about it. We didn’t assign any of our forces to stopping the march toward death, the inexorable march toward death. It was a large bloodstain, primary red color on everyone’s radar, but no one did anything about it. And that’s why I wanted to bring the color red in."

Or take into account the movie The Sixth Sense, directed by M. Night Shyamalan. He also used the color red repeatedly throughout his film, to symbolize when the spirit world and the real world were brushing up against each other. When Cole sees the ghost in his room, he's hiding in a red tent. At the boy's birthday party where the bullies lock Cole in the attic, he's following a red birthday balloon to the top of the stairs, and he's wearing a red sweater. There are many other examples of this symbolism used throughout the movie.

Is this something we can incorporate into our prose? The repetitive use of color is a subtle trick we can use to help set the theme and mood of our writing. Perhaps a character who's in an abusive relationship always has an example of the color purple around them, to symbolize the color of bruises. Or a theme you're touching on - poverty in Middle America, maybe - can be used to highlight people and places who are affected by this theme. Like, everyone who's using government benefits wears or carries something yellow. Or the government offices could be in a yellow building.

I think this is something that could be applied as you craft your WIP or added in as you make the second pass through your manuscript for editing. After all, theme is something we don't necessarily incorporate into every line of prose as we compose our MS, but we can go back after it's complete and inject a little here and there to really beef up the story.

What do you think? Would you consider using color to enhance the theme and mood of your prose? Have you used tricks like this in the past, or have other ways of expressing symbolism you're particularly fond of?

Wake Up

I realized while I was getting ready for the Clark Kent job this morning that I forgot all about music Monday!!

Geesh! What kinda blogger am I? An off-the-cuff, disorganized, but still lovable one... well, mostly anyway. So to make up for it, I want to talk a little about one of my favorite songs by the Arcade Fire. It's called "Wake Up" and it's off their 2004 debut album Funeral. I first heard this song a few years ago, and I fell in love with it immediately - it's everything I want in a song: epic lyrics, a shifting, moving melody, and an overall uplifting sound. If you get a chance today, you should really give it a listen (click on the link above!). It's worth it. And it's only about five minutes of your life. You've spent more time in drive-thru lines. ;)

I love this piece of lyrics:

And children don't grow up
our bodies get bigger, but our
hearts get torn up
We're just a million little gods causin' rainstorms,
turnin' every good thing to rust
I guess we'll just have to adjust...

I really identify with this. Do you ever feel like you're still a kid inside your grownup body? I know I do. Stumbling around, wondering if what I'm doing is the right thing, wishing for some kind of direction... more often than not doing more damage than good. It's at times like this that I remind myself to breathe. And breathe. And breathe some more. I think terms like "adult" and "grownup" don't necessarily apply to artists. We are awake, fully awake, so much more so than most people - we don't really care so much about which celebrity is dating who, or what the stock market trade value of a certain company is, or whether or not the clothes in our closets are "in", or which reality show is currently kicking butt and taking names.

We're more concerned with the bright pinprick of light that's the evening star, set like a startling jewel in the velvety cobalt of the twilight-filled sky. We observe people while in public places, marveling at their secret lives on display for us to see, even though they don't realize it - listening to their conversations on airplanes, watching them play with their kids in the park. We are awake to the real world, a universe of color and sound and drama. It's our job, our calling as artists to capture that world to the best of our abilities.

Last night I was dragging from a ten hour day at work so I went to my local coffee shop for a delicious caffeinated beverage. On the way back to my house, I saw a little carnival set up in a parking lot, a study of flashing lights against the deep blue evening sky. Instead of passing on and heading back to the house, I pulled over and took a couple of pictures - and bought myself a bag of fresh cotton candy!

On the way out of the tiny cluster of lights and bells and barkers, I saw a Greenville County deputy parked beside the lot, leaning on his car and observing the few cars and people who'd gathered. I smiled and introduced myself, told him I was writing a book and that one of my main characters was a police officer, and then had a great little Q & A session with him about police work. I found out he's an English minor who's also working on a novel, and we had a really cool conversation about writing. We also traded info and he agreed to read my first draft after it was done and offer pointers on what will make Jack a more realistic police officer! YEAH!

See? I was AWAKE to the possibility of magic in my life, and the universe delivered! I could've passed on by, left the carnival and its enchanting little pool of twinkling lights and whirling rides behind, but I listened to that voice inside me, the one that said, hey man, maybe we should take a closer look at that, whaddaya think? and was rewarded for my efforts.

This can and WILL happen to you. You just have to keep your eyes open. You just have to be awake.

With my
lightning bolts a-glowin'
I can see where I am
go, goin'!

You better look out below!

Indeed.

Vigilant and Virtuous

I can't help but remember this scene from V for Vendetta when I think of the letter V. Our friend Evey has just been saved from certain deflowering and possible death by a mysterious stranger in a Guy Fawkes mask.

Evey Hammond: Who are you?

V: Who? Who is but the form following the function of what, and what I am is a man in a mask.

Evey Hammond: Well, I can see that.

V: Of course you can. I'm not questioning your powers of observation; I'm merely remarking upon the paradox of asking a masked man who he is.

Evey Hammond: Oh. Right.

V: But on this most auspicious of nights, permit me then, in lieu of the more commonplace sobriquet, to suggest the character of this dramatis persona.
Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin van-guarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition. The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous.
Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it's my very good honor to meet you and you may call me... V.

Evey Hammond: Are you like a crazy person?

V: I am quite sure they will say so. But to whom, might I ask, am I speaking with?

Evey Hammond: I'm Evey.

V: Evey? E-V. Of course you are.

Evey Hammond: What does that mean?

V: It means that I, like God, do not play with dice and I don't believe in coincidences.

And neither do I. I believe everything happens for a reason, every choice we made in the past leads us to where we are now, and that we are all exactly where we are supposed to be. My whole life has a purpose. It's up to me to define what it is. I'm answering the creative voice inside me; I've stopped denying I am a conduit for the universe to speak through, and given myself over entirely to the calling. I'm choosing this profession, this lifestyle, this quest with open eyes and arms. Every decision I make is chosen with the future in mind, and it's starting to show more and more in my everyday life, flashing through in brief glimpses. It's just enough to keep me going, at least for one more day.

I refuse to give up. I will succeed.

And so will you, friend. All you have to do is listen to what you really want... and you truly have the power to make it happen. Your project. Your brainchild. Your heart's desire. I believe in you! What vigilant and virtuous action are you taking to realize your dream today?

Quintessential B

Each of us has our own signature style, something that sets us apart from others. You might have a flair for the dramatic, or have a passionate love for blue hats. Someone else could insist on only eating off green plates. Another person might harbor a secret passion for museums on Tuesday afternoons.

What makes the quintessential B? There are many things which I consider part of my signature style, and every one of them has shaped the person I am - and the writer I want to be. Movies, music, books which I've discovered and saved over the years. Here's a rare look inside B. Miller and what could be considered my inner workings - without these things, I may just not be me.

Y'all know I have a passion for Murder By Death and Stephen King. But did you also know I'm a Star Wars nut? It was my first movie - I was two years old and I saw it from the back of a Subaru hatchback, at a drive-in. My parents got the first movie (A New Hope) on Betamax when I was five. By the time I was six, I could quote every line of dialogue without the movie going. (I can still do this with most of the lines.) I've been told by more than one friend that I also specifically quote Han Solo's lines in my sleep. Obsessed. Yeah.

Star Wars gave me a passion for sci-fi as well. I love Star Wars, Star Trek, Babylon 5 (yeah, I admit it), Heroes, Dune, Stargate, all that geeky stuff. I'm a HUGE nerd. I can't help it; I've been that way since I was a toddler. Always on the outside looking in, that's been me my whole life. It's ok though - I think it's something that helps my writing. I've been observing how other people work for most of my life, taking in all the details I can. Now I'm dumping it back into prose.

I love villains. Often the villain is my favorite character in a movie. Some of my favorite villains from TV, movies, and books are: Darth Vader (aka Anakin Skywalker), Khan Noonien Singh, the Shadows, Randall Flagg, Sylar, and Rene Belloq.

I have a deep love for the South, specifically my home state of South Carolina. I'm proud to've been born here. This was the state, after all, who had the cajones to stand up and say, "hey, US government, we don't appreciate you taxing the crap out of us and trying to take away our states' rights without our say-so. So we're making our own damn country!" I appreciate the courage it must've taken for so many people to do that. The South has made me who I am and the writer I've become. This is a great region to live in and you'll find some of the nicest people in America living in the Southern states.

As for quintessential pieces of my writing style - I love to focus on tiny, mundane details to offset the weird crap I put in my stories. I bring in every sense of the character in my writing, focusing particularly on hearing and smell. I use a lot of Southern dialect in my prose, dropping so many g's at the ends of words that it sometimes makes my writing partner Gail Gray (a damn yankee herself, but we won't hold it against her) clutch her head and moan in pain. I like to put things together you wouldn't normally expect, then bring everything crashing down on my characters before allowing the sun to shine through the dark clouds again. I love horror and have a flair for gore - ha! It comes in handy.

What about you? What are a few things that make up the quintessential person that YOU are? Please share - I'd love to get to know you better.

Coercing the Muse

On Wednesday my friend Watery Tart talked about Neglected Muses at her blog. She named some ways you can piss off your muse and make it not want to come around, and talked about how to be kind when it's around. It's a great entry, and you should go read it now. Don't worry, I'll wait.

OK. Done? Good.

This made me think about what I do to lure my muse into my writing room. I used to try to force it. I tempted her with blank pages, great music, the perfect arrangement of pillows in my writing space. But my muse was a fickle bitch for a long time. She'd whisper in my ear just before I was falling asleep, then run away, giggling. Or, she'd give me one or two lines of poetry and then just stop, refusing to talk, smiling her infuriatingly enigmatic smile. BAAAH!! So frustrating.

I've been thinking, and I've realized that one of the reasons my muse was so tricky for so long is because she wasn't really interested in the work I was doing at the time. Short stories are fun, she says in her lilting, musical voice, and I love poetry - it's in my blood, I AM related to Calliope, after all - but can't you write something... longer?

Of course I constantly blew her off for years about long-term projects, but she kept handing me ideas that could easily be turned into books. My first published short story, "Avenue of Dust", is about a man who starts the end of the human race by administering some kind of poison into the water system of Paris. The story's not very long, maybe ten or twelve pages - but everyone who's read it cries out to know what happens next. "Does Frank get away and get back to the states?" they ask. "Do they find a cure? Does everybody die?" I always say, "I dunno, what do you think?" in return to these questions. (In truth, I think almost everybody died, including Frank, but that's a whole other story... eh... novel... right?)

Other stories are also little snippets in a larger tale. My poor muse! All this time, I've been feeding her short rations. Until the last nine months or so. And let me tell you, when you finally give a muse exactly what she wants, she doesn't want to leave. She's not teasing or tricksy. She loves you and appreciates what you do for her - after all, you give sound to her voice. You're the medium she chooses to work in. Once you prove it to her that you're not going to quit, she will open up and give you an entire universe of ideas.

But you have to take care of her. You have to remember to give her what she wants and needs, or you'll end up just as frustrated as she is. Tempt her with the things she wants. Is it a long, freestyle lyrical poem she wants to dictate to you? Maybe a screenplay! Or maybe she wants you to paint tonight instead? Listen to her. She'll tell you what you're supposed to do. And the best way to coerce a muse into giving you inspiration? Offer yourself and your talents to her, and be open to whatever she suggests. It gets easier once you start practicing this on a regular basis. Don't fight it. Don't force it. She'll let you know what it is.

And when she does, it'll be amazing.

Pacing Yourself

I talked last week about my timeline for my work-in-progress novel, from finishing the first draft to editing to distributing the pages to my First Readers... and all the other steps on the way to publication. The most important step to me (right now at least) is finishing the first draft. Without a completed first draft, I can't make any more forward motion on the project. I know you can go back and edit things which are already written, but to me it seems pointless to do steps out of order, especially if you never get a finished product to send to a publisher or agent. After all, we're trying to get a book published and out to the general populace, right? The public won't read your pages if they don't have them in their entirety, so... why should you go back to revise and polish something that's not complete?

I'm shooting to be done with the first draft by the beginning of May. For the last month I've been pacing myself to make sure I'm going to hit the 100,000 word mark by that date. I was at 55,000 words at the beginning of this month. I counted the weeks between then and May and realized if I can crank out a solid 5,000 words per week I'll be golden by the time my deadline gets here. I've created a calendar for myself in Publisher and every Monday I report in on my progress. I've watched the word count steadily rise over the last four weeks and it's truly exhilarating.

Last week I mentioned this pace to someone, and was greeted with a scoff. "5,000 words a week?" she asked, laughing and shaking her head. "When I did NaNo, I was doing close to that a day."


All right. So, I'm slow. Slower than those who work at the breakneck pace of NaNoWriMo, at least. But that's all right with me. I'm working at my own pace, budgeting my time between the 40+ hour-a-week Clark Kent job, creating my writer's platform, and birthing this book. Not to mention all the other things that take up our time as functioning members of society.

I've set a pace that will get me to my goal, and I'm sticking to it. If I get more than 5,000 words a week, GREAT. But all I'm wanting is the bare minimum goal from myself right now. So far I've made the goal every week, sometimes with a surplus of 2,000 + words, sometimes with only 80 or so. And all the while, my novel is marching towards its completion, delighting me, thrilling me, amazing me. I'm sucking in the experience and loving every single second of it. I'm savoring the time my book and I have together, because we've worked hard to get here. And I'm not questioning my goals, even though they may seem small to other people. After all, the race is yet to be won.

What are the pacing goals you set for yourself? Do you have to work by a schedule to get your first draft finished, or do you just work on it until it's complete?

Comments are Important!

My ventures into the blog-o-sphere have taught me some important lessons about maintaining an online presence. One of the more important lessons has been about commenting on other peoples' blogs.

I read anywhere between 20 and 30 blogs a day, sometimes more than that. It's hard to balance it between writing the novel and working the Clark Kent job full time. I try to look at blogging as part of my job as a writer. I write almost every day, therefore I blog almost every day. I use the "office" part of my brainspace for this, and think of it as a task I must complete, to bolster my writing platform. I give myself weekends off from reading and writing blogs (trying not to burn myself out). On every blog I read, I do my best to leave a comment on the latest entry. Even if it's just a "I liked this post because" comment.

And here's my reasoning behind this practice: first, I know how delighted I feel when people take the time to comment on my blog. Whether it's one comment or twelve, they never fail to make my day. Somebody out there's reading me, I say to myself. And they keep coming back for more! It's a great feeling. I want to pass that on to other writers who are working hard on their blogs.

Even more importantly, if you don't comment, a blogger won't know you've visited! Unless of course they have some fancy tracking stalkery type technology (and come on, people, we're taking blogspot here), blog owners can't know you've been reading their words unless you SAY something about it. It's a form of appreciation, in my opinion. Thanks, I'm saying to the blog writer, I recognize your dedication and your vision. Thank you for continuing to put it out there. Keep it up! We're a community of writers, for the most part, and we all know how fragile our universes are. Commenting is my way of encouraging the writers around me to keep writing.

I find comments are often reciprocal - I'll go to someone's blog and comment, and they come find me and comment on my entry. I love this kind of exchange. Not only does it show me who's reading my comments (and entries), but it helps me make new friends and connections in the blog-o-sphere. And don't worry if there are thirty, or fifty, or even a hundred comments. I bet the blog owner reads every single one. Each comment from their visitors is important, whether it's the first or the thousandth. And don't forget - people who leave comments often read the comments before theirs. You might find a new friend or a follower by commenting! One you didn't even expect.

My new blogging friend Elana Johnson posted on this topic last week and had some really insightful things to say in this post. It's an interesting read and has a few more things to say on the importance of commenting on fellow writers' blogs. Check it out, if you like.

How often do you comment on other peoples' blogs? Do you make a point to leave your mark on an entry?

And BTW, I'd like to say THANKS to everyone who reads and comments on my blog. I want you to know, every time you say something, it makes me feel good. You're spreading the love and I love you for it. :D

Music Therapy

By now you've probably noticed a theme for Mondays on my blog. Over the month of March I've used the first day of the week as a day to showcase something about music and how it relates to me and my writing. At the beginning of the month I talked about Shooter Jennings and Hierophant's collaboration with Stephen King. The next week I told you guys about my trip to Indiana to see Murder By Death. And last week we had a great discussion about writing playlists. This has been a lot of fun and I plan to keep doing this or something similar in the weeks to come. I think music is an integral part of the writing process for many authors, including myself, and I'm fascinated by the countless ways the two forms of art entwine together.

On that note, let's get on to this week's musical entry...

Did you know there's such a thing as music therapy? The American Music Therapy Association says on their website, "The idea of music as a healing influence which could affect health and behavior is as least as old as the writings of Aristotle and Plato. The 20th century discipline began after World War I and World War II when community musicians of all types, both amateur and professional, went to Veterans hospitals around the country to play for the thousands of veterans suffering both physical and emotional trauma from the wars. The patients' notable physical and emotional responses to music led the doctors and nurses to request the hiring of musicians by the hospitals."

I love this idea, and would like to write a story about it sometime. The concept fires up the furnaces of my imagination - a musician, using his or her art to heal the sick. Now I know there are thousands of qualified music therapists out there who've worked hard to get where they are using their dedication and talent. But my brain naturally turns to a tale of the weird when I think about this subject. What if it was a supernatural sort of ability, something which doctors couldn't detect - except when viewing the rapid healing of their gravely injured patients? What if this person, this "music therapist", had been different all through growing up and finally found what they were meant to do in a VA hospital during the second world war? A period piece with supernatural undertones. So much fun to think about!

This is one of the many ways I get ideas for stories... learning about something new and interesting, then imagining a character thrown into a situation which showcases that skill (or place, or time, or whatever). I'm pleased to have a new goal of learning more about music and how it could inspire or influence me to write pieces I might not usually consider. I hope you'll be as interested to read these "Music Monday" entries as I am to write them.

What are some ways music has inspired you as a writer? We've talked about playlists, live music, and so on... Do you find music and writing as cooperatively influential as I do?

Spring has Sprung... Happy Friday!

Here in the South, spring is creeping over the hills and edging into your peripheral vision. Everywhere you look something new is blooming. The Bradford Pear trees are a few days away from becoming their annual spring puffballs. A light, playful breeze has taken up residence during the days, while the nights have become warm and filled with cricket and frog duets. Flowers are peeking up through the soil, fruit stands are making themselves ready for the next few months of craziness, and everything in my town smells new and green and faintly fabulous.

That is, of course, if you can smell... My allergies have brought on some sort of ailment, so I've spent the last couple days of this beautiful transition in bed. I'm not sure if it's allergies or a cold or a sinus infection or what, but the result's the same... clogged sinuses, aches, sneezing, coughing, and a wish for death when bright light hits my eyes... Phew. I'm sure it'll pass soon, but this really blows.

However, I've been using the time to my advantage. I haven't stopped posting on the blog (as you can see, heh) and I've been writing and writing and writing and writing and... yeah. Last night I hit 70,000 words and 240 pages. I wrote for hours in kind of a drug-induced, dreamlike state. I'm not even sure what exactly happened in the pages I wrote, now that I think about it... I mean, I could give you the general gist of it, but the actual passages escape me. That's the best kind of writing for me... when I'm so deep in the Zone, going back over pages produced becomes kind of a fun surprise. The book is steadily marching along to its climax, and all I can do is hang on for the ride, ailment or no ailment.

I'm also kind of excited about the fact that I now have three short stories rolling around in my head, waiting to be born. I'm not thinking about them too much while I'm finishing the novel - I feel like I only have enough headspace for one project at a time at this late stage in the game. But it's exciting and encouraging to know I have other things I can work on when this is done. I plan on working on the shorts when I set the completed MS of the novel aside for a few weeks (I've heard this is a good practice; once the book's completed you must let it rest for a bit). That should help me keep out of the MS and really let it rest as it needs to.

Now the weekend's here, so I'm going to concentrate on resting and let myself kick whatever this is out of my system. Writers' meeting is tomorrow morning, and I'm excited about it. I can't wait to hear what my group thinks of the new pages. And I'm so excited to read new stuff from them as well. Gail has been working on a wonderful new novel, Fireworks: Interference Equation and I'm hooked. I can't wait for the next installment.

Hope everyone out there in the blog-o-sphere has a great weekend and enjoys the new spring weather! Take care, all.

Using Real Life

Since this is my first novel, I'm discovering the process of how my book is being created as I go. Every day it feels like I find a new corner of this creative process and I'm always amazed at how much of my everyday life goes into the production of this book.

I guess it never occurred to me before how much fiction is based on actual real life events, but presented in such a way so that it reads as make-believe. A story has to come from somewhere, and while my imagination may supply the plot, the characters, the conflicts, and the resolution, my brain uses all sorts of things I observe and dumps them back into the story. I notice the setting-related items most often. At the moment I'm in the middle of a scene where Jack heads to the local bowling alley to see if he can find his missing brother-in-law. I'm having a blast creating this little out-of-the-way bowling center, and I'm using everything I can from the Clark Kent job to make the scene more realistic.

I've seen so many things from my own life spun into the web of this novel - things I didn't even plan, my brain just plucked them out of my subconscious and used them automatically for window dressing. Riverbanks. Flags on the fruit stand. The hot South Carolina summer and all its accoutrements, from the continuously singing insects to the flat heat laying on top of your skin like a blanket you can never pull off.

Now that I know and understand this part of the writing process, I find myself hoarding ideas and images in my mind for later use. Terrible yellow light spilling out onto the land just before sunset, bathing everything in a surreal coating of sinister gold? Check. Old man at a liquor store, smacking teeth against dentures, plucking at the front pocket of his overalls? Check. Cool and calm screened-in back porch on a summer evening, enjoyed with a fresh bowl of cut peaches? Check.

It makes me wonder, now as I go back and read books by favorite authors, how many images and scenes were taken directly from that writer's life. Now when I read Stephen King - especially the last two books in the Dark Tower series - I get a real sense of who he is, and how Maine influences him and his writing.

The windows of the buildings in my mind came from somewhere outside myself - it's amazing to watch those buildings grow and change as my environment shapes the tale I'm spinning.

Collaborations

Today I'm listening to the album Black Ribbons, by Shooter Jennings and Hierophant. I found this album through a news article on MSN about musicians and writers collaborating on projects.

Shooter Jennings, the son of Waylon Jennings, plays a mix of rock and country that can't exactly be called rockabilly but still seriously rocks socks. Black Ribbons is an ambitious concept album and plays with a lot of different types of music and sounds. The thing that drew me to this album was the fact that Stephen King collaborated with the band on the project.

The album is set during an apocalyptic time for the human race in general and America specifically. The government is taking over airwaves and has eviscerated the concept of free speech. The country's last talk radio personality, Will O' The Wisp, is inviting his listeners to participate in one last night of free thinking and great music. Will is voiced by Stephen King himself, and he has several tracks on the album which he speaks on.

Shooter's concept for the radio DJ was less of a "Wolfman Jack" kind of personality and more of a thinking man's talk radio guy - "It was more the brain attached to the voice that was so important," he says in his interview with MSN. Stephen King fit the bill perfectly, especially since he was already a fan of Shooter's band. When Shooter contacted King about it, the writer was enthusiastic about the idea, but wasn't quite sure where Shooter wanted to go with it. Shooter sent him a couple of pages of notes, but wanted King to put his own flair on the album as well. Shooter says he was "open to him [King] writing the whole (narration) and I definitely didn't want to push my words on this guy, but I think he was looking for a little direction so I wrote a mock-up of what I believed it should be. He took that and doctored it and made it a hundred times better".

I love Stephen King and while I'm not familiar with Shooter Jennings's work (or I wasn't until today, anyway), I'm always open to giving new music a try. I've been listening to it at the Clark Kent job today and while I haven't been able to give it my whole attention for the entire time it's been playing, I like what I've heard so far. I plan to give it another listen when I can devote my full brain to what Shooter and Stephen King are saying.

Projects like this excite me. I'd love to do one with a band. I've been kicking around an idea inspired by the Murder By Death album Who Will Survive, and What Will Be Left of Them? for a while, but I want to finish the projects on my plate before I delve into anything else. It's an intriguing idea, though. I also love how much effort Shooter's put into making the album a full-sensory experience for his fans; he's put a lot of thought into how his website can be used with the apocalyptic concept. It's fun, if you get a chance it's worth a gander.

If you'd like to read the MSN article that turned me on to this album, go here.

Inspiration Strikes

Story ideas come to me in some of the most inopportune places, as I've mentioned before in a blog entry or two. I'm learning my way around those obstacles, and now when inspiration hits me like a lightning bolt from a cool blue sky, I'm more prepared to take note and listen to what the universe has to say. I've developed a connection with my car that tiptoes along the border between quirky and obsessive... to me, it has its own personality, even its own name: Jeff. Yeah, Jeff. Jeff has his windows tinted, so I joke about how he wears his sunglasses at night. On long, rambling expeditions around the city of Greenville which stimulate the right side of my brain into giving up invaluable nuggets of inspiration, he's a good friend, and his own strange species of noble metal-and-fiberglass steed.

I often use the time I have in the car to allow my mind to wander wherever it wants to. On my way home from work or a friend's house, I'll take alternate, longer routes without even thinking about which way I'm going, just grooving along with the music pouring out of my speakers and digging the vibration of my rolling wheels. Sometimes my subconscious makes interesting connections about the characters and story I'm writing. More often, I'm able to get into the mindset of a character and get a feeling for how they think or speak or what their feelings or opinions are on situations in the story they live in. It's a time where I'm unplugged but still switched on, almost hypnotized by the dotted white line in the middle of the road and its predictable Morse code disappearing under my wheels.

Driving like this (almost exclusively at night) gives me a chance to mentally gnaw on whatever I'm working on, which these past few months has been the novel. I'm constantly thinking of Bulton, or my main characters (Dan, Jack, and Miss Mary are the most common thought-thieves), or how the different ribbons of storyline are slowly braiding together to make one long, strange, beautiful tale. There are no distractions, no books, cats, roommates, movies, games, websites to steal my focus and clutter up my artist's mind. Just me, my music, and the whispering pavement under my tires.

And then every so often, when I least expect it, the Universe sends me a big old special delivery package via the channels of my awake-yet-dreaming brain, and I'm so overcome with excitement I can barely contain myself. This is when the new toy of the voice recorder in my phone comes in handy. I used it just last night, to record an idea which made me so happy, I was dancing in the driver's seat (as much as it would allow, anyway). I was just driving along, not really thinking about anything in particular on the surface of my brain, just letting the boys in the basement of my subconscious fart around and mutter about whatever they wanted, and then there it was. An idea of such loveliness and artistic proportions I had to record it right away, before I forgot any of its nuances. I yanked my phone out of my pocket and babbled away for three minutes into its voice recorder. Once I got it all out onto the recording, I had that happy-yet-drained feeling I get after a brainstorming session... as if my mind is a muscle I've been exercising heavily and is now spent but rewarded with the feeling of a job well done.

What was the idea, you ask? Heh... that has to wait for another entry. ;)

South Carolina Book Festival

I went to the South Carolina Book Festival with Brian K. Ladd and Gail Gray yesterday. It was a fun trip, and as Brian said earlier this morning, "definitely an eye-opening experience".

I wish I'd had a chance to go to all three days of the Festival. There were a lot of interesting people, especially authors, in attendance. We sat in on two panels on Sunday: Debut Novelists and Science Fiction and Fantasy: What's the Difference?

The first panel featured four authors who have published their first novels within the last year: Brian Ray, Heidi Durrow, Batt Humphreys, and Dale Neal. They all had insightful things to say about publishing your first novel, but as a first-time novelist who's gearing up to send queries out to agents this summer, I unfortunately heard nothing helpful regarding the traditional submission of query letters and networking in the publishing world. Three of the four authors had won a contest to get their book published, and the fourth, a journalist with 30 years experience at CBS, was approached to write his book.

This lack of query-and-networking commentary (and, evidently, experience) was frustrating. It was kind of like attending a seminar on how to get rich and the speakers at that seminar encouraging you to buy lottery tickets. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure each of the three authors who'd won publishing contests wrote beautiful books - each of which I'd like to take a closer look at. You don't win contests by writing crap. I give each of those writers my utmost respect. But is 3/4 of the panel being contest winners really an accurate representation of the hundreds (if not thousands) of authors who get published each year? I would've liked to've seen a more realistic approach to getting published from these "Debut Novelists".

I definitely got more information out of the second panel, and enjoyed myself a lot more as well. James O'Neal talked about his new series of futuristic crime novels, while Janice Hardy discussed her "Healing Wars" fantasy novels, a trilogy which begins with the novel The Shifter. Both of these novelists had a lot to say about the differences and similarities between science fiction and fantasy, and they had a great chemistry for a two-person panel. Janice defined the difference between science fiction and fantasy as "Fantasy writing is the exploration of the impossible. Science fiction is the exploration of what could be probable." Interesting, huh? I also got some great insights on how cops handle certain situation from James, and hope to incorporate it into the novel - considering one of my main characters is a police officer, this was a great find!

After the panels, we walked the exhibit floor and talked to several different authors. My favorite by far was Nick Valentino, a steampunk and fantasy writer who's just published his first novel, Thomas Riley. Nick had some great marketing going on. He recruited a USC student to dress up in steampunk gear and hand out flyers for his booth at the door. Nick also dressed up in his own steampunk outfit, and handed out beautiful press cards and nifty swag like this cool iron-on patch:



I got one of these for myself and another for a friend who's crazy about steampunk. Nick was ingratiating and fun, and made us feel welcome in his booth. We pooled our money and bought his book, and he signed it for us after making us promise we'd become part of his "Sky Pirate Army". It was so much fun!

Aside from Nick, there was very little fantasy or science fiction showcased, and absolutely NO horror at all. This was another disheartening discovery for me. I hope the SC Book Festival will broaden their horizons in the years to come (especially when I have a book I'd like to showcase there, heh).

Even though it was a mixed bag of tricks, I'd definitely go to the SC Book Festival again next year. I feel it's important to meet other authors and show my support for the writers in South Carolina, and this festival is just one of the many ways I can achieve that goal.

Authors and Writers

One of the more frustrating replies to the answer of "I'm a writer" (see my post on Clark Kent vs. Superman from last week), for me at least, is "Oh, me too! I just LOVE to write!" This is usually said in a gushy, hands-clasped-before-the-chest way, as if the act of writing were the equivalent of teenage puppy love (for some people, I guess it might well be).

Sigh.

I've made some business cards for myself - I can't even describe how weird it was to just type those words - to take to conventions and other gatherings, so if I meet someone I connect with I'll have a quick and easy way to help them remember my name. I deliberated on the design for a while, and decided to stick with the simple, easy layout. The thing I like best about it is the black band that goes across the middle of the card, where a definition is printed in white:

author: \ˈȯ-thər\ 1. One who originates or creates.

This is how I present myself, how I view myself, as much as I can: as one who originates or creates. Authors are nothing less than gods in their imagined universes, and they are the ones who decide the fates of the worlds (and words) they create. Authors have a calling, and are forced to answer it, lest they go insane. Authors fight for the ideas they believe in and love. They are artists, with a capital "A", and they weren't given a choice about their role in life. Most of all, authors are conduits for the energy of the universe. Sounds kooky, I know, but I believe it. Stories are found, they're discovered, they're radioed to us from some unknown source out there in the midst of all that revolving matter which makes up our reality. It's our job as artists - as authors - to keep the channels open and the equipment in as good working order as we can manage. Of course, that can be tough, as we're all alone in most of what we do, and (like Indiana Jones) we're kinda making this shit up as we go along.

Then there are writers. All authors are writers, but not all writers are authors. It's one of those square vs. rectangle things we learned back in middle-school geometry. There are some people out there who believe the ability to string words together and make a coherent thought with them proves they're a writer. They like to pass the time by doodling on notebook pages about the dark recesses of teen angst they've been caught in for years. Anyone who's suffered through a high school creative writing class knows the people I mean. In our writers' meetings, we call these the "love-glove-dove people". (Ten points if you know where this reference comes from.) Their work is painful to read, especially as the majority of them aren't willing to listen to any constructive criticism - their goal isn't so much to get their words out there to the general public as it is to have a few people listen to them and immediately commence with the ego-stroking as soon as their work's been read.

I've perfected the art of choking my frustration down and being a patient listener to those gushing people who insist they LOVE to write; after all, we all have to start somewhere. I'm trying not to be catty or a snob towards people who have a love - if a mutated, perverse one - for the trade in which I try so hard to excel. Everyone deserves a fair chance and a sympathetic ear. It's really only those people who refuse to take criticism, who insist that their terrible poetry is beyond revision and came out of their soul whole (note the ever-amusing rhyme scheme, friends), that frustrate me beyond belief. Arrogance is the death of creation, I think; or at least one of its many forms. I can't speak for anyone else, but I know my best work comes while I'm being humble and filled with gratitude for the gifts the universe has given me.

It's that balance between humility and cockiness (one who originates or creates, remember, and that act of creation offers a rush so spectacular that sometimes it's hard not to be cocky) which is hardest to define and master for me. I guess I'll be working on my footwork in that particular dance for years to come.