As long as life lasts, there’s s&*t that has to be done. Losing friends doesn’t change that. I’m maybe a third of the way through the current project. I ran into a plot and direction quagmire that took a while to sort out, but I think I can see my way through now. Bad things are happening so that less bad things can happen later. Or more bad, depending on which character is involved and the reader’s point of view. So I’m writing. What I’m doing very little of, at least to my way of thinking, is reading. Continue reading
Category Archives: novel
In Which I Am a Sadistic Rat
I really don’t like thinking that I’m a sadistic rat, mind you. I mean, I know I’m a long way from being a good person–keeping in mind that I have rather high standards in that regard–I’m far too aware of my own shortcomings, and all the times I knew what the right thing to do was…and didn’t do it. So no, I don’t consider myself a particularly good person in the sense of being a credit to my species, but a “sadistic rat”? Isn’t that a little harsh?
No, not really. See, I’ve been working on a writing project in plot resolution mode for a bit. It’s slowing down the actual word count, but it’s a necessary step. And the question “What’s at stake for my hero in this?” quickly morphs into “What is the absolute worst thing I can do to him?” And I thought of something diabolical. Nasty. Heart-breaking. I know what you’re thinking, but that’s not the “sadistic rat” part. That came out when I realized that the absolute worst thing wasn’t actually the absolute worst thing, because I had already done the absolute worst thing to him that I could do in a previous adventure…which wasn’t the absolute worst thing either, because it occurred to me that the absolute worst thing was something I’d done to him even before the reader ever met the guy, something that continues to haunt him until the present situation and will beyond it, assuming he survives.
So, not the “absolute worst thing” I could do to him, because I’d already done it. Twice over. But pretty damn bad. And, yes, I’m going to do it. The story needs it, and the story always comes first.
I am a sadistic rat, no question. It goes with the job description.
“Having Nothing to Say, He Says it at Length”
Writing short stories—good ones—is a skill and an art and a craft. Writing a novel is all those things too, plus a marathon. Just as the novel is paced differently, so is the mindset of the person writing the thing. At least that’s what I’m contemplating at the moment, so far as how it pertains to blogging. There are a lot of—in my humble opinion—interesting things happening, but 1) they’re internal 2) they make almost no sense out of context and 3) I can’t talk about them anyway. The reason I can’ talk about them is illustrated by the advice a famous pulp author once allegedly gave to Ray Bradbury when Bradbury was letting his youthful enthusiasm get the better of him and he’d talk out his stories before he even wrote them. That advice being: “Ray, shut up.”
A bit dutch-uncle blunt, but very good advice for a writer. If you want to talk about a story or novel, talk about it on the page by writing the darn thing. Because we are storytellers, and telling the story aloud really does take the edge off your desire to get the thing written down. And unless you are a professional verbal storyteller who gets paid for keeping a crowd entertained, the story doesn’t exist until you write it down for your own crowd, who are, if you’re lucky, your readers. Which means a healthy dose of STFU is indicated.
Problem is, though this is good advice for someone trying to get a novel finished before year’s end, STFU is the exact opposite of what one has to do to keep up a regular blog. So I will talk about something I can talk about, referencing that humoungous hailstone seen above. Those who follow this blog may remember the massive hailstorm we suffered back in March. Well, with one thing and another I just got around to filing a claim for the damage to my truck, and Sunday the claims adjustor got a look at it.
That frickin’ hailstorm totaled my truck. That is, it was an old truck, and now the cost to repair it exceeds the value of the vehicle=totaled. I’m going to miss that truck. I called it T-Chan, and old fans of Ranma ½ may get the reference. It hauled a lot of loads over the years: paving stones, lumber for Carol’s meditation pyramid, the flooring of at least half the house, our new couch. But then I thought, if I don’t have a truck, I won’t have to haul all this $&^t any more. So we went out last night and bought a hybrid.
Was that interesting? I’m guessing no. But remember, the good stuff I can’t talk about. Yet.
Roaches Check In…
As do I. The Yamada novel progresses, not as quickly as I’d like, but then I’m never satisfied with my progress this early in the game. This to me is the “follow the novel where you think it’s going, stop for a bit when it throws you, try to judge the new direction, and whether it actually is a new direction or a different way of going where you thought all along, then proceed and find out.” Rinse. Repeat. At some point the feints and red herrings are going to…well, not go away, but there comes a point where they no longer fool me. The time will come when I know the book, whether it wants me to or not, and it can’t shake me. Then come the burst days when the words just fall from the jetstream of me zooming past. I like those days. Takes a while to get there, though.
Regardless, I passed the 10,000 word mark last week, so I’m reasonably mollified, if not actually content. We’ll see how I do this week. Not that I’ll necessarily tell you or you’ll necessarily want to know. But it’s on. It is so on.
In the meantime, and if anyone’s interested, SFSignal.com has published an interview with me conducted by Kristin Centorcelli. She asked some good questions, mostly about the Yamada series and where all that came from, and if I ran on a little, well, the questions made me do it. You can read the whole thing here.
Richard Parks 