Tuesday, December 29, 2015

Understanding ~ Ignorance

Until you understand a writer's ignorance, presume yourself ignorant of his [or her] understanding.    ~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge


Until you understand a writer's understanding, presume yourself ignorant of his [or her] ignorance.    ~ not Samuel Taylor Coleridge


Saturday, December 26, 2015

Words of the week

reject:  / 'rɪ: dʒɛkt, rɪˈdʒɛkt /

(noun)  1. A person or thing that is refused as not meeting a required standard or is otherwise unsuitable or unacceptable   2. a product that is damaged or not perfect, an item sold cheaply because of minor flaws.  

(verb)  1. Refuse to accept, agree to, make use of or believe in someone or something   2. dismiss as inadequate, unacceptable or faulty   3.  rebuff, or behave in an unkind or unfriendly way towards someone   4. discard or throw something aside.

[From Latin reject- ‘thrown back’, from the verb reicere, from re- ‘back’ + jacere ‘throw’].

deject:  / dɪˈdʒɛkt / 

(verb)  archaic  To depress the spirits of; dispirit, dishearten.  

(adjective)  dejected   Disheartened, low-spirited, feeling or showing sadness and lack of hope, especially because of disappointment.

[Late 16C. archaic deject, from Latin dejectus ‘thrown down’, from deicere, ‘throw down’, from de- ‘down’ + jacere ‘throw’].

object:  / 'əb:dʒɛkt, əbˈdʒɛkt  /

(noun)  1. A thing that is visible or tangible or can be perceived with the senses   2.  a person or thing that is the focus of someone's attention or emotion (an object of curiosity)   3. an aim, goal or purpose, an end towards which effort is directed.

(verb)  To oppose or be averse to something, or to argue against or express opposition to something.

[From medieval Latin objectum ‘thing presented (to the mind/sight)’, from Latin obicere ‘throw in the way of, present’, from ob- ‘in the way’ + jacere ‘throw’].



Wednesday, December 23, 2015

Monday, December 21, 2015

Tools of the trade

It's been a while since I've served up some original writing. The wheels of denouement have been turning in the background, but at this time (for many reasons) the stony glare of the internal censor rests heavily upon me. So I'll do what writers do, and keep writing steadily (and privately) until the censor backs the hell off.

Friday, November 27, 2015

Word of the week

fox:  /fɒks/ 

(noun)  A small carnivorous animal of the dog family, with a pointed muzzle, large ears and a long bushy tail, usually with reddish brown or silver-grey fur [Family: Canidae, Genus: Vulpes].

(noun)  A crafty, cunning or sly person.

(noun)  slang  A physically attractive or alluring man or woman.

(verb)  informal  1. To deceive or outwit somebody by means of slyness or trickery  2. to confuse or baffle someone  3. to keep an eye on someone without seeming to do so  4. to be too difficult for someone to understand or solve.


Tuesday, November 17, 2015

The seed

… but the seed of doubt was there, and it stayed, and every now and then sent out a little root. It changed everything, to have that seed growing. It made Ender listen more carefully to what people meant, instead of what they said. It made him wise. 
 

From Ender's Game, by Orson Scott Card


Friday, November 6, 2015

Why do we need to work so hard?

The question asked by a fellow writer today:  If 85% of everything that’s published today is crap, why do we need to work so hard to improve how we write?

Sunday, November 1, 2015

Word of the week


regard:  /ˈɡɑːd/ 

(verb)  To look at carefully; gaze at steadily; observe. 
(verb)  To consider (something) to be (a particular way).
(verb)  archaic  To take notice of; pay attention to; heed. 

regard:  /ˈɡɑːd/
 
(noun)  A long fixed look; a gaze.
(noun)  An attitude of admiration or respect; a feeling of friendship and esteem.
(noun)  Attention to, or thought and concern for something.  

[Middle English: from Old French regarder 'to watch', from re- 'back' (also expressing intensive force) + garder 'to guard']

NB rhymes with canard, charade, façade. 


Thursday, October 29, 2015

Truth

'Truth seems to want expression. Unacknowledged truth saps your energy and keeps you and your characters wired and delusional. But when you open the closet door and let what was inside out, you can get a rush of liberation and even joy.' 

~ Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird 

Monday, October 26, 2015

What lies beneath

In fiction, as in life, all is revealed through the actions of our characters.

Characters, like people, don’t always tell the truth. They often say what they think is true, or what they’d like to be true, without arriving at a clear expression of their most salient psychological reality.

Usually it’s because they hold multiple truths – layers of thoughts, feelings and motives - which are tangled together in complicated ways.  They may not always be aware of them. Or they may be hiding them, from other people or themselves.

Wednesday, October 21, 2015

The right words

‘I’ve been studying history,’ Peter said. ‘I’ve been learning things about patterns in human behavior. There are times when the world is rearranging itself, and at times like that, the right words can change the world.’ 

From Ender's Game, by Orson Scott Card

Thursday, September 24, 2015

The Art of Omission

If a writer of prose knows enough of what [s]he is writing about [s]he may omit things that [s]he knows and the reader, if the writer is writing truly enough, will have a feeling of those things as strongly as though the writer had stated them.  ~ Ernest Hemingway

Saturday, September 12, 2015

It was a lie, of course

Ender nodded. It was a lie, of course, that it wouldn't hurt a bit. But since adults always said it when it was going to hurt, he could count on that statement as an accurate prediction of the future. Sometimes lies were more dependable than the truth.

When I was barely onto the third page and the tight, pacy narrative was serving up these penetrating insights, I knew I was about to read something really, really good.

Ender's Game: classic military strategy meets dystopian YA speculative fiction. 

I'm loving this book so hard, right now. So, so hard.   


Friday, September 11, 2015

Multistoried

'Our lives are multistoried. There are many stories occurring at the same time and different stories can be told about the same events. No single story can be free of ambiguity or contradiction and no single story can encapsulate or handle all the contingencies of life.' 

~ Alice Morgan 

Wednesday, September 9, 2015

Problem

The single biggest problem in communication 
is the illusion that it has taken place.

~ George Bernard Shaw 


Friday, September 4, 2015

Words of the week

Observer’s paradox: (in social sciences) Refers to a situation in which the phenomenon being observed is unwittingly influenced by the presence of the observer/investigator. 

Verisimilitude: /vɛrɪsɪˈmɪlɪtʲuːd/ (noun) The ‘lifelikeness’ or believability of a work of fiction. The word comes from Latin: verum meaning truth and similis meaning similar.

Subtext/ˈsʌbtɛkst/ (noun) The content of a creative work which is not announced explicitly by characters or creator, but is implicit, or becomes understood as the work unfolds. The unspoken thoughts and motives of characters - what they really think and believe.

Perspicacious: /ˌpəːspɪˈkeɪʃəs/ (adj) Having a ready insight into and understanding of things.  (NB rhymes with curvaceous, sagacious, tenacious, and vivacious).  



Thursday, September 3, 2015

Character

All good stories are character-driven. It’s a question of degree. Human beings are wired to care much more about who than about what. In fact, we won’t care at all about what, unless we first care about who.

Barry Eisler, when asked “How important is character in your writing?”


Saturday, August 22, 2015

Printer woes

A writer without a printer is like a message without an ear to hear it.

Fortunately for the tragically printer-compromised amongst us (*cough me cough*) there's the promise of a brighter future (pun intended) here: 

Friday, August 21, 2015

Riddle

So, I'm supposed to be writing, but this is what happened instead. (#distractible) 

She steps on the Moon without any light.
She curses at Mars but still it is night.
At Mercury she voices a spirited cry.
At Jupiter she stumbles, and then realises why.
When she’s at Venus, she still carries a load.
No gifts yet at Saturn, it’s not the end of the road.
She’s not pretty or happy in the light of the Sun,
Her path hasn’t ended nor has it begun.

She is numbered like sisters
And heavens and stars
But she is ever alone
And ceaseless is her path.

What is she? 


Guesses?  Use the comment box.  


ETA: (Sat night) OK, this riddle isn't going very well. None of my family members have managed to work it out yet!  Also, I thought it would make better sense if I tweaked the answer a little. (So I did). I'm still not 100% sure if it works, but I'll leave it up here in the spirit of a beta reading. Enjoy! 


Monday, August 10, 2015

“… and back again” – The Hobbit’s long journey home.

(Warning: Long. Get a cup of tea). 


I was all of ten years old when I read The Hobbit, and since then, my recollection has been muddied by a fabulously overblown three-part movie adaptation. So when a friend waxed lyrical about it recently, I was moved to re-read it. I found myself entranced all over again, but this time for very different reasons.

Monday, August 3, 2015

Three guesses


A safe fairyland is untrue to all worlds. ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

I’ve been reading Tolkien, and thinking about stories and mythic journeys (more on that another time), and puzzles and codes (more on that too), and macrocosms and microcosms.  And the confluence of all of these has steered me creatively towards reworking a fairy tale.

I love a good fairy tale, but don’t be fooled, it’s not all magic wands and princess dresses out there in fairyland.  There are plenty of nasty little blighters with sharp teeth and even sharper wits lying in wait for our unsuspecting characters. But there are also lessons to be learned, fortunes to be made, and hopefully some happy endings, too.  

Fairy and folk tales give us plenty to work with.  I’ve previously penned a flash fic based on a particularly disturbing old story. My vignette takes place entirely on The Stairs which lead down into a very dark place:   

I tread down the stairs, cautiously, testing each one’s soundness before transferring my full weight.  Each step groans a slow warning to me.  It’s dark down there.  I reach the edge of the light, then dip my slippered toe into the pool of darkness.  It rises to my calf, then my knees, then my thighs, with each downward step, closing around me in its silky depth, swirling and enfolding my fine skirts.

I bet you want to know what she finds at the bottom, right?

I’ve also written a conte merveilleux of my own invention. It adopts the shape, style and symbolism of an old folk tale, and weaves together elements of faerie with a love story.  Delivering sweetness and heartbreak in less than 1200 words, Sweet Apple is one of my favourite pieces of writing.

For my next piece, there are so many stories to choose from, and so little time! The source story needs to have enough inherent complexity to permit a meaningful reworking, but enough simplicity to allow the original elements to remain intact.  For a while I was thinking about the two girls, one kind and one mean-spirited, who encounter an old lady by the well. The kind sister is rewarded with roses and pearls falling from her mouth whenever she speaks, but the unkind sister has toads and snails dropping out of hers. 

That’s not all of the story, because their mother is horrible too. (Family dysfunction 101). All is not lost though, because a prince just happens to be riding his horse through the forest at exactly the right time (!). There are plenty of gender stereotypes to chew over in a re-telling, but the most delicious temptation lies in the hilarious story possibilities for things-falling-out-of-people’s-mouths.  

But there is another story I keep returning to, like a task that must be completed by dawn. I’ve spun it round and round in my mind, and it has cast off fine filaments that have burrowed into my imagination and taken root.  As a child, I never liked this story. There was always something deeply unsettling about it.  As an adult, I recognise the themes of manipulation, deception, and greed, and it strikes me as a thoroughly modern tale. It deserves a more thorough telling, which examines the motivations and actions of all its characters and provides a resolution for each one of them, regardless of their position in the social hierarchy.  But since my denouement leans heavily on the original fairy tale, I’ll keep its name to myself, and leave you to guess which story it is.  



Saturday, July 25, 2015

The greater truth

"A lot of what frightens people about writing is this precise idea that once we put something on the page we are rendered vulnerable. There is truth to that, but the greater truth, for me, is that once I put something on the page I am also rendered a little less vulnerable. I have created for myself a piece of turf on which I am willing to stand." 

From The Right to Write: An Invitation and Initiation into the Writing Life by Julia Cameron


Saturday, July 18, 2015

Regardez bien

Voici mon secret. Il est très simple: on ne voit bien qu’avec le coeur. L’essentiel est invisible pour les yeux.*

Le Petit Prince, by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry 


Le Petit Prince by lab604 @ Flickr

This is my secret. It's very simple: you can only see clearly with the heart. What is essential is invisible to the eye. 

Thursday, July 16, 2015

Guilty as charged

Sometime during the Year of Getting Organised, I came across some old material.  You know, stuff I’d written, typed with an actual typewriter onto actual paper, a long time ago.  Some of it was while I was at school, along with some truly cringe-worthy short stories from my early adulthood. 

And it was bad.  Baaaaaaaaad.

Once you get past the psychic slap of how truly awful some of it was – if you can get past it – you can read it again, for insight. 

What I found in this early writing was a sense of my own stuck-ness, and in the very middle of it, a desperate need for beauty, for inspiration, for connection, as lifelines out of the mire. There’s even a (hideously plodding) story based on this very theme – a theme that even I didn’t recognise at the time.

But I also saw fragments of my craft emerging: the oblique slant of words used in fresh way, some nascent plot ideas, and a blunt personal honesty that was possibly the reason that continuing to write was so daunting.

I also recognised was what was missing: artistic self-belief.  The brazen self-worth needed to foist my imagination into the bright rule-bound world.  The mindfulness to persist with writing from that space, to plough through my inexperience until I achieved something that even my cracked self-censor could grudgingly acknowledge might be ok. 

So, what can I take from this insight?

In the time since I wrote that material, I have come to understand a number of things.  Like, that writing improves your writing. And living, without writing, also improves your writing.  I understand now how fickle a commodity confidence is – that its weight and value is mediated in direct relationship to how badly you need it.  That it makes bad writers lazy and tortures good writers and constricts their efforts to a trickle.

And that none of that matters while you’re writing.  The most important thing is to just keep going.

I have learnt that uncertainty is bearable. Not knowing all the answers is a good thing. The bits that are missing tell just as much as the bits that are in the story.

But mostly the thing that I have learnt is that the writing is only 50% of being a writer.  You can be technically precise and grammatically correct, and still fail at the wholeness of the craft.

The other 50% of being a writer is the story that you bring to the endeavour – and that’s where the magic takes place. It’s where the jagged edges of your lived experience abrade a raw opening in the words, creating a space for the numinous to enter. It’s what gives life to your work.

So, these are my crimes, if any: believing too much that I had to be “good at” writing before I’d even begun, and believing too little in the stories that needed to be told. In this, I include my own powerful history, left unspoken for too long. In this respect only, I am guilty as charged. 

For these errors of omission, I hereby make restitution: not in silence, but in well-timed speech. Not in secluded reflection, but in decisive word-driven action.  I will hone my craft until it has the gleam and heft of the finest Damascene steel, and holding it as a sabre before me, I will carve a path to my own bold future.  


Wednesday, July 15, 2015

Sharpen


It’s been a while. I’ve been really, really busy.  And then the school holidays come, with incessant demands on my attention, sucking the last of my intellect from my skull, draining it through my nostrils like an ancient Egyptian funerary nightmare. 

But when I’m not writing, the unexpressed writhes and scratches within me, until I can contain it no more and it claws its way free. 

So I carve out a space, sharpen my nib, and I write again. 


Thursday, July 9, 2015

Note to self: dragons*

"It does not do to leave a live dragon out of your calculations, if you live near him."

 The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien (1937) 

Smaug, by Eric Fraser


* Actually, make that reptiles, generally. Reptiles that slither close and hiss softly but do not blink, and those that skulk quietly in the long grass. And the ones that spit venom. Especially those.  But not tortoises. Tortoises are usually wise rather than cunning. 

Monday, June 29, 2015

Beautiful moment

That beautiful moment, when the word you need flows effortlessly onto the page.

The perfect irony, when that word is Sisyphean


Sisyphus by Jason Tamez @ Flickr