Almost... but not quite!

Steampunk is fashionable, these days. And this book had almost all the characteristics to make it a champion of the genre. I actually rescued it from the non-genre part of the bookstore, and indeed it  almost had the literary qualities to be shelved there. It reminded me a lot of Susanne Clarke (the main character, Edward Moon, really feels like a clone of Mr. Norrell). And indeed, the atmosphere of the book has almost the charm of the Jonathan Strange saga. The characters are almost as quirky as in a Gaiman book (and indeed the Prefects are totally lifted from Neverwhere, of which the Somnambulist unfortunately lacks the wit. Finally the grandiose underlying conspiracy, and the gothic details are almost as pictoresque as in any Adéle Blanc-Sec graphic novel.

Don't get me wrong: I almost had a lot of fun reading this one :)
Also cited, for anyone interested:

In other news and information

My story, Fatebook has been chosen to be one of the finalists at the Match-that-Artwork AnthologyBuilder contest. The finalists names have been now posted. It'd be a great Christmas gift to be the winner, but being one of the finalists is already pretty cool. Below the image that inspired the story.

Meanwhile I'm slowly (very slowly) dragging my feet through the first few chapters of the NaNoWriMo novel, Forgotten Sons (working title). Looking for the right voice, wrestling with words, seeking the vein to tap to get it to flow...

NaNoWriMo & Christmas

While according to the calendar, half month is now officially shot, the count still stands at a solid and round zero. I was glad however to discover that the story that delayed my NaNoWriMo start has been selected as "recommended" at the Spec the Halls Christmas Story contest.

Also, as of today I finally have an outline for the first novel of the Forgotten Children saga, the very one I should be writing this month. Sure, the outline still has enormous holes, with words like "rescue" or "something horrible happens" that takes the place of entire chapters. But even a safety net is full of holes, and I finally feel I can start to swing on the trapeze. Wooooh, the view is really scary from up here!

Rediscovering Magic: Indigo Springs

After few pages, I still didn’t know what to expect from Indigo Springs. It starts in medias res, and for a while I was wondering how to unravel all the information fed to me, taking in all the implications of  the wonderful and scary things that are hinted to.  Magic-powered terrorists on a rampage in the homeland? It reminded me a little initially of Palahniuk’s Lullaby, especially given the similar “frame story” setup . Except that all the havoc and the cheap thrills happen behind the scenes.

But what about the  liquid magic and the flying carpets: how could the author sink hardcore magic into a real-life setting, and make it believable? She succeeds, I think,  in a way that goes beyond fantasy: by making us care about the lives of ordinary, small town  people in extraordinary circumstances. A.M. Dellamonica masterfully interplays first person narration with the point of view of Astrid, the time-displaced protagonist, as she narrates the (re)discovery of blue magic. It’s an atypical cast of characters, whose status and relationship takes a while to absorb. But the payback is definitely worth the effort, and a thick narration is woven out of every person, place and object, unveiling the wonders little by little, building on anticipation.

And that to me, was the real magic.

NaNoWri: The Never Starting Story

Day 9 and my word count is still zero.

Tragic, I know. Yet, I have hardly rested. I finally finished a short story and (with some help from an exceptional editor) submitted it to this year's Spec the Halls Christmas story contest. And I have been working on the novel, I swear. I even have a working title, and a soundtrack to go with it.

More seriously, I have been trying to put some order in the chaos that accumulated in 4 or so years of notes about the universe and the story. It might seem like lots of material, and the problem is that it's possibly way too much for one novel. Sometimes it's divergent. Sometimes inconsistent (the main character changed gender and name 3 or 4 times through the years). So far I have written the "bible" of the novel (or perhaps, of the series of novels if this one clicks) and I have taken a stab at the cast of chracters, who they are, what they look like, what they want. Some of them are described in  a few paragraphs, other are half a sentence, translucent ghosts.

Now it's the most  dreaded time: working on a synopsis of the story. Stay tuned.

From:NaNoWriMo Day 9: Productive | Inkygirl: Daily Diversions For Writers

The Thrill of the Blank Page

NaNoWriMo essential inspirational words from John Irving

Full interview at http://bigthink.com/johnirving/big-think-interview-with-john-irving

NaNoWriMo: plotting

Let’s face it: I’m going to lose this year’s NaNoWriMo, big time. I haven’t even been abel to start, focused as I was writing a short story. Last night I finally typed the three magical characters (###) that indicate the end of the end in the standard manuscript format. More work is required, but it will be of the editing kind, which I will do later at night when all those creative energies are about to go to sleep.

But at this point we are 5 days into November, and I still have a big round ZERO word count. What is worse, I haven’t thought about a plot yet. Sure, we know what they say “No Plot No Problem.” But I want this month of November to count for something: even if I “lose” I want the stream of words to be produced to go towards a self-contained, consistent story which I will continue adding on, polish and restructure in the future.

What have now is several years of notes. I have thought in passing about this novel for a long time. Once in a while I would type up some thoughts, toss it in some folder, and forget about it. I almost thought I was suffering from a classic case of Worldbuilder's Disease, but what I lacked was the chance to put all of this together. Now, I have a (slightly less than a) month to do just that, to unravel the garbled yarn in my head, put some order into chaos, and hope that something worth reading will take place in the process.

And if you stay tuned I might even tell you how this is going to happen...

NaNoWriMo: And so it begins

The plan for this year:

• Cheer from the sidelines. Many more people I know are participating, and that makes it even more fun that usual.
• Meet other writers, perhaps, if we won't be too busy typing away
• Harness the energy. I'm once more playing to lose, focusing more on quality and structure than output, while living this wonderful yearly appointment with collective creativity.
• Have fun, as usual!
  

NaNoWriMo: be prepared!

NaNoWriMo starts in just a little over 24 hours. How to prepare for the month-long frenzy? 
This is what I did the year I won:

• told everyone you are doing it, so I couldn't back out
• patiently explained to my wife what I had to do and how it'll keep me in total isolation a few hours a day
• turned off the TV (well, I never had one, but all similar distractions should be powered down)
• rented a cabin in Kernville for Thanksgiving (if you've been to Kernville, you know why. Watch out for cabin fever)
• sharpened my technological pencils. Knew what tools to use for max effectiveness from day 1. More on this topic in the days to come.
  
• scheduled my day around it. I still had a day (and night) job, so  I’d spend 60 minutes of my lunchtime on it, every late night I wrote notes to develop the day after.
• Reminded myself every day to forgive my bad form and lack of interesting plot, and above all,  that I signed up for NaNoWiMo for FUN.

It was a great time. I proved to myself I could write a whole novel, and never stopped writing regularly since. Forget about the (likely poor) quality of the output. There are things you learn to internalize in such a month-long effort that stay with you forever.

Planetalyx Information Bureau - Of Infodumps and Exposition

Great starting point to learn to avoid the plague of infodumps:

Planetalyx Information Bureau - Of Infodumps and Exposition:

"Of Infodumps and Exposition"

My True and Vivid Writing class had a dialogue exercise this week, and that led some of them to a struggle with the practice of slipping exposition into their characters' conversation: a form of infodumping, in other words. They asked about ways to finesse this and I've quickly surfed up a few links to get them started:

http://www.fiction-writers-mentor.com/info-dump.html

http://www.writing-world.com/sf/infodump.shtml

http://research-writing-techniques.suite101.com/article.cfm/avoid_info_dumps_in_dialogue

http://www.therthdimension.org/FictionWriting/Info_Dump_Avoidance/info_dump_avoidance.htm

Has any of you fought this particular battle, and written anything about it? As always, links and tips are very much appreciated!

Elizabeth Gilbert on nurturing creativity | Video on TED.com

Elizabeth Gilbert on nurturing creativity | Video on TED.com

Back to the writing board

School is back in session, and I'm back doing the lunchtime writing thing. Since I'm again writing in English, so I thought I might as well send out some sort of signal to the unlimited depths of cyberspace, while warming up my mind and fingers to overcome the usual pitfalls of this barbaric language.

The fog is back on time, and walking outside to my writing perch feels like kissing Lady Death, in all her cold but sensual wetness.

Listening to: http://bit.ly/1zg43w

Almost there...

Turkey Writer
Originally uploaded by Inkygirl

Almost there, ready for the final rush once the tryptophan rush wears off. It does not look like I will "win" this year, but my personal victory is not far: the novel is continuing, the plot almost makes sense and I'm definitely enjoying quality time with my cast of characters. If "Fire Season" won't be done by Sunday, it will definitely be finished in first draft sometimes in December.

And I'm thankful for that, as for being able to play with the stuff my dreams are made of. Not everyone has this chance. Happy Turkey Day to all.

Like river, like knot

I often find myself reading several books at once, especially if I’m making my way through nonfiction, which I dislike as entertainment but find occasionally useful. It usually takes just a few paragraphs to get back into that particular story. Some people find this strange, yet they probably follow several weekly or daily TV serials without any less enjoyment.

Some of the books I have read recently however incorporate multiple voices and span years and intertwined plotlines to a point that they move and breathe like multiple intersected novels. One example of that is Sacred Games, a wonderful book whose narrative I follow like current on a river. Other mysteries feel more like knots, convoluted but tight and matter-of-factly.

Most hard boiled falls into this category, Also I love Sue Grafton’s series not just because of its local focus but also for its simple, efficient approach to narrative. Speaking of knots, I’m currently reading also N is for Noose, and it’s difficult to think that these two novels are even in the same genre. I’m not interested in matters of artistic value, of course: all I care for, at least during this month, is to dissect what works, and find out what makes it tick.

So will my novel be like a river or like a knot? Of course I have no ambition to write something with the details and complexity of Vikram Chandra’s novel (which took seven years to complete, something like 84 times the length of NaNoWriMo) but as I move along I find out more about how things work. Initially everything feels like white water rapids, unformed, incomplete ideas spraying around, increasing possibility of sinking or being thrown off course. Then one goes back, little by little, tying the knot.

And that’s what I’m going to do today

Limping along

Guests, wildfires, dinners, meetings, more meetings, last minute crises, computer malfunctions, fog, too hot, too cold, dog is sick, dog ate my manuscript, printer is out of toner, forgot to recharge laptop, I'm hungry, sleepy, uninspired, lazy, busy, too restless, too lethargic, too interested in other things, no longer interested in anything at all...

Many are the excuses and pitfalls of this month-long ordeal. Just one thought: gotta keep typing those words in. Some parts are inevitably going to suck. Let's leave this out of the feedback loop, evaluate later and, if needed, rewrite. Back to the book!

All of a sudden, my novel is news

Some of the imaginary drama of my novel, Fire Season, is on the radio right now, Montecito is burning, one canyon away from the fictitious house Nino leaves the night of the fire.

It's a tragedy, families on the run, houses being burned to the ground, the most beautiful part of Santa Barbara going up in smoke. Maybe because I've been writing for so many days about this, I feel really like some inner part of me is going up in flames.

News abound, pictures below:

No blogging today

In observance of Veteran's day I decided that instead of whining about not writing enough would be better to increase my word count just a little. So I will be doing just that...

Falling behind

I’m falling quite behind Chris Baty's target of “15k by Monday.” I am not excessively worried as I have tons of notes and outlines for future parts of the novel. However, psychologically it is hard: the word count snowball must roll soon enough to gain the needed momentum and become an avalanche.

What I did was to spend another weekend working on a science fiction story for yet another anthology. I did so somewhat reluctantly. First of all, I’m not 100% to be on target with this submission: they are looking for longer fiction, and I really couldn’t get the story to work over 3000 words or so. It might very well be that my writing efforts will be wasted, and the editor won’t move past the first page reporting the word count.

But the hardest thing was really to leave Nino behind. As I reported already a few times, it’s becoming increasingly painful to leave the novel’s universe for this own. Worse, the longer I stay away, the more difficult it is to once more immerse myself into it, a difficulty that manifests itself in needing to reorganize my thoughts about what happens next, or simply procrastinating the putting of actual words on (virtual paper). The process, I found more and more, is like a snake molting out of its old skin, or like those howlingly painful werewolf transformations from 50s horror flicks. Except, of course, that one is growing all those hair and fangs inside the brain. And that, of all things, is bound to hurt.

Listen to Ed

One great thing I started doing was following Ed McBain’s advice:

No outline at first, except the loose one in your head, draped casually around the idea.

Once you've found the voice, write your first chapter or your first scene.

This is how Fire Season started: a couple of pages I wrote long ago, without thinking too much about it. Some scenes which kept bouncing around in my head. Nothing was very developed. More of a mood, a tone, the voice of Nino sounding in my head, very similar yet well differentiated from my own.

Outline the novel in your own way [...] The outline is you, talking to yourself on paper

This was the hardest part, the one that took the longest during the first NaNo days. Pieces of the story would emerge, like various colored vegetables in a minestrone, and I would arrange them in some tentative order. I found out along the way that outlines work only in 3rd person, while the novel is in 1st person. Ed is right: I'm talking to myself when outlining. I'm acting as Nino when writing.

Set yourself a definite goal each day. Tack it on the wall

This is easy. And NaNoWriMo works very well to institutionalize that process.

I found that avoiding skipping a day is very important too. But not always feasible. The best advice I actually don’t remember where it comes from. Some interview with some writer. But I found it to work very well: every day I review what I wrote the day before, and quickly edit it. I usually don’t make major changes, but this allows me to end up with cleaner text and to “get back” into that parallel universe. A universe of dangerous adventures but, somehow, greater serenity of the real one.

My week

Monday: Stress
Tuesday: Despair
Wednesday: Conflict
Thursday: Weariness
Friday: Coma
Saturday: Recovery
Sunday: Dread
Monday: Stress...

One safe islands are the lunchtimes I spend writing in this beautiful place:


On good days, one can see the channel islands, on and the sun’s glitter spread on the ocean. Below, the world goes on in its frantic activity. They look like multicolored mice from here. Everything is silent, and we are suspended above the sphere of the real.

Obamanation

The reverie has ended, or at least mutated in something concrete, some longer-term objective to look forward to. We will roll up our collective sleeves; get to work to fix the awful mess created during the last 25 years of free market fundamentalism, and the last 8 of futile warmongering. Or so we hope.

For now, the best way to celebrate for me is to go back doing what I love: write some more. For the time being, that means immersing myself once more in the parallel universe of Nino and Bruno, two dead guys roaming the beautiful Santa Teresa surroundings.

The battle, imagined or not, will restart soon enough.

Distractions abound…

… and reality as usual surpasses fantasy.

Today a man in a ski mask blocked a bridge over the 101, brandishing a gun. The swat team intervened, and the man was finally subdued and arrested, but not before two adjoining cities came to a halt in traffic and, presumably, business.

Tomorrow we are possibly staging one of the most important US Elections in many years. The entire world is on the edge of its seat.

With all this going on, how can one find time to write? Well, that’s what lunchtimes are for, if one is able to find one of those rare, disconnected places where people are forced to stop blabbering on their cells. I’ll talk more about my favorite place in future posts, but let me just say that the view is simply awesome, and in spite of the unordinary folly of this world, the first chapter of Fire Season is done!

Things not to do on the first two NaNo days

Well, for one, don't spend the whole weekend editing another story! But it's done now, and posted at:

http://www.redroom.com/articlestory/merry-christmas-mr-yao

The story is a part of the Spec the Halls contest for speculative winter holiday-themed fiction, artwork, and poetry. Forguidelines and links to other entries go to

http://www.aswiebe.com/specthehalls.html

As for Fire Season, well, two days gone, zero words. Great start!

'Twas the night before NaNo

'Twas the night before NaNo, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even the mouse;
But the keyboard was ready and hooked up with care,
In hopes that the Muse soon would be there;
The writers were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of pages danced in their heads;
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The neighbor with large breasts was giving a show
By topless meandering in sight of people below,
When, what to my laboring brain should appear,
if not the warmth, the light of the greatest idea.
With a little jolt, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment "this must be it!"
More rapid than eagles the words just came,
And I filled those pages that just had my name.
On, Calliope! on Melpomene! on, Thalia and Erato!
Another night like this, and my novel is finito!

My NaNoWriMo 2008

November is Novel Writing Month, and this year I'm doing it again.

The Procrastinating Act of today is coming up with a synopsis (in English) and a cover (posted on this page. Now I that I got that out of the way I can hope to start outlining it a little during the weekend-- unless of course matters of the utmost importance emerge, like, I don't know, choosing the best font for the job...

So here's the synopsis:

Dead to the world, exiled 6,000 miles from home, and living as a pedicab rider Nino still has a talent for getting in deep trouble. When the house he is renting goes up in flames, Nino finds himself plunged into the lesser known, deadly underworld of beautiful Santa Teresa, California: drugs, gang wars, conspiracies, and a forty year old secret that screams to be revealed and to burn anyone holding it.

Fire Season, a bicycle thriller, is the first installment of the Two Dead Guys©. series.