Monday, May 24, 2010

Letting the voices speak through you

Now that I'm writing this novel, I feel like I'm channelling the spirit world which is doubly funny because most of my characters are dead. The story keeps evolving as their voices tell me about their past, present and future. I'm not sure if I'm in control of it all at the moment, but I don't really care because it's exciting and I'm enjoying the ride. I have to trust the process and not worry about whether the plot, the style, the symbols, the motivation-reaction units, etc. are all going to come together. Eventually they will, if I manage to maintain my enthusiasm, strengthen my resilience and build my endurance. I know I'll learn new stuff with each step of the process.
If only I can stop my kids' voices getting into my head while I'm trying to write. I think I need to get an iPod so I can block them out. Sometimes I shut myself in my bedroom and do my first drafts longhand with an HB pencil in my spirax notebook (which I'm petrified of losing). At night, when they're hopefully asleep, I tap away on the keyboard while my partner watches television next to me. He and the TV are much easier to ignore than the kids. It's a good thing I grew up in a noisy household, because I learnt to block my family out and retreat to a world of stories—such an important part of life. Fiction versus reality; sadly fiction wins a lot of the time. I'm a born escapist.
When I'm doing the first drafts I have to tell that nasty voice of self doubt to shut up, and just let the words flow. Often the writing is shit but there is always something there to work with on the rewrite, which I find the most creative and fulfilling part.
I've wanted to write since I was a kid so I'm getting a huge buzz out of learning all this amazing stuff.
Cheers,
Annie T

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Shortlisting judging

Being a shortlist judge for the Ada Cambridge Prize was a remarkable experience. As a writing student you can never underestimate the value of these sorts of opportunities. When I first heard about the offer it sounded like something that would really be great. But then I got cold feet. Being a mere student and nowhere near the level of a true professional writer I wondered whether or not I had the right to judge other people's work. I mean, in figurative terms, I’m basically in the same boat as the entries: all trying to get our laboured work out there, continually scratching through to the other side of that great brick wall where book deals and high paid writing jobs are just a skip and a jump away.

But luckily for me my thoughts soon settled when I realised that’s not what this writing thing is about. I’ve been told that if you’re a writer, a true writer, you write because you love to. Not because you want fame, money or a fan base of loyal subjects. If you’re a writer you're always continually going to be perfecting your craft, trying to be get better and better, and anyone can help you do that, writing student or not.

If your stories are good, they will shine through no matter what.

That thought eased me into the judging role. Of course I looked at the grammar and punctuation and all that technical stuff. But most importantly I looked at the story. And at the end of the day that’s the most vital thing.

Reading through more than forty short stories can be a tedious task, especially when you only have a couple weeks to do it in. So if the story caught your attention it usually was a good sign.

Each piece was given a grading from A to D, which was marked down for when we shortlist judges got together and made our final selection. When it came to that point I was amazed to see how one story I thought deserved a giant A rating received a horrid D from another judge. Luckily we had a score system in place that worked with the grading; otherwise we’d still be sitting in that small room, arguing away until the world’s ending.

It was a pleasure to read all the stories entered and to work alongside the other judges in determining who went forth to the final ten. It was an experience that not only enriched my own writing but also made me hopeful for the thriving writing culture we have.

Andrew Roberts

Novel 2 Student

Thursday, May 13, 2010

My Writing Process - The Conflicted Mind

My writing process. Where do I begin?

The start is usually the most common place, though I know several people that begin halfway through their novels with ripper middle scenes, but then find themselves with all this excellent writing with few links between. I know people that like to write the ending to their stories first, I've never tried it myself, but from what I've seen, the results can be great or ghastly.

Me? This isn't called 'The Conflicted Mind' for nothing. John Marsden told me (amongst others; while I wish I knew Mr. Marsden personally, I don't think that will happen) that there are four kinds of writers: Brick Layers, who create one perfect sentence at a time; Water Colourists, quick, talented workers that produce a good first draft; Architects, who plan extensively then write their piece; and Oil Painters, who don't plan and let the writing flow from them, saving editing for later.

I find myself to be a hybrid between a Brick Layer and an Oil Painter. I can create these wonderful 'one-liners' and have the rest of my scene mediocre, or I can just let the writing flow out of me... and have all my writing meager.

I am a writer full of self doubt, and because of this, every one of my stories has begun well(ish) and then given up on, because I've asked 'Where is this going?' and haven't gotten a response, I've thrown down the pen or slammed the laptop shut in frustration, unable to continue with such a horrible piece; even a simple negative workshop has the power to tear down the walls of my writing stronghold.

My physical writing process occurs when it's dark outside and way past bedtime. The only sound that can be heard is the tapping of fingers on keys or the scrawling of a pen. Perfect silence, no chance of interruption. Sleep deprivation is a small price to pay for a couple of hours of coherent writing. Being a young adult, there are many obligations to meet. I'm not saying that others don't have similar priorities in their lives, but the constant parental buzzing in the ears when one is trying to write is worse than a reoccurring drop of water on the forehead that can't be prevented. At night, silence is solace. The only problem once my mind has been emptied and the words are before me is trying to fall asleep. It's way too hard to slumber when you're exploring a fantasy world.

That's it, I suppose. Those writers who are in self doubt, I can't give much advice, because I haven't been given much myself; all I can say is what you write is yours, and if your heart and your creative mind tell you it's good, then don't let anyone else tell you otherwise.

Rhys Parkhill

Novel 2 Student

PWE 2010

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

My writing process

I would like to say that my writing process is a well-oiled engine that churns out words on a regular basis, but that would be a lie. Sometimes it is a well-oiled engine, but at the moment it seems to be fitting and sputtering along. Life has got in the way -- something I always swore wouldn't happen to me. And the trouble with this is that because I'm working on two (or sometimes even three) books at the same time, and because I have multiple drafts, I lose touch of where I'm at. What this means, in real terms, is that I have to spend a lot of time re-immersing myself in the story before I can write, and this means reading time. Lots of reading time. Oh, I'll think, didn't he do that? But that was two drafts ago, and I've since removed that section, which has repercussions right through the book. Why can't I find the scene where he does this? Is it cut or have I moved it? Oh, her motivations for her actions have changed; their relationship is different. And so it goes on.

The trouble with not writing regularly is that I sometimes seem to spend more time re-immersing than I do writing. I just get back into the story, the juices are flowing, and another interruption comes. I definitely work best when I'm writing every day. During the end of last year's NaNoWriMo, I wrote over 26,000 words in four days, and one of those days was an "interruption day" where I achieved very little, which meant I had to write over 8,000 words on each of the other three days. I could only do that because I was fully immersed. I know students have been impressed with that, but I see it more as a failure of organisation -- that I was forced into such a position because I hadn't built up enough words earlier. It's all in the organisation. Sit down. Bum on seat. Write.

Usually, when I am immersed, I'll start by reading over what I've written the day before and edit as I go, and that will put me back inside my main character's head, and I'll be ready to go. I can write between 1000 and 1500 words in an hour. I'm not one who sits and agonises over every comma. I have enough of a handle on my grammar and punctuation that I'm not thinking too much about it, and so I can splurge on the page. It's not always that easy, of course. Some days are harder: the words don't want to come. I might try some free writing. I might play a few games of spider solitaire, but the only way to get over the block is to do it. Sit down. Bum on seat. Write.

If I'm aiming for a particular mood in a scene, I'll put some music on. Usually a soundtrack. It works best if I'm not singing along. Humming I can handle -- that doesn't fill my head with words and leaves me room to write.

I don't often plot ahead. With my first two books I had the start and end points and a rough idea of what had to happen. The last is a bit more sketchy, but I do know where it has to end. Sometimes I find the not knowing what's going to happen exhilerating; sometimes it's just downright frightening. When I had finished my third draft and had sent my novel out and it came back with a detailed reader's report, I decided I had to weave a second storyline through the first, and that involved extensive plotting, extensive thinking about structure and where things were going to fit. More often, if I'm stuck, I'll do a little plot noodling -- I'll sit with a pen and paper and start asking "What if?", which helps me explore possibilities. That's always hard but rewarding.

I have extensive character and setting notes -- one of my favourite tools is Patricia Wrede's article on worldbuilding questions -- a fantastic resource for any spec fic writer, and available on the SFWA site. Filling those questions out was perhaps the hardest thing I ever did with my novel, but also the most enriching. I knew so much more when I had finished.

I don't make pictures in my head, so I can't "see" the scenes unfolding as I write them. It's more that I hold the idea of what's happening conceptually. It's the same when I read, so it's no disadvantage, though I must say I envy people who say they can see the whole book unfolding for them, just as if they're watching a movie. Still, I find it amusing when people tell me my work is so visual that they can see a movie unfolding. How can that be? Perhaps because I'm used to the cues that other writers use -- and that's why reading is such an important thing, for all of us writers.

Tracey