Let the nail-biting…begin.

Or “I haven’t sent anything out for publication consideration for far too long, and now that I have I’m nervous.”

It would be quite accurate to say I’ve been keeping myself busy with writing since the start of 2014. I’ve churned out hundreds of pages (somewhere upwards of five hundred now, actually), which is exciting, but it is by no means a reflection of how good the writing is. Or isn’t. My goal of seeking publication isn’t exactly a secret, in the sense that I’ve practically taken over a major cable channel to broadcast that tidbit at all times possible (except from 3a.m. to 5:30a.m., because everyone knows those times belong to the infomercials). The writing side of things has gotten to be second nature, but the seeking publication parts are still murky waters for me. Self-published work aside, I’ve got three by-lines to my name. Related: my god, I’ve not used that phrase since my days at Point Park. Anyway, there’s my Wreck-It Ralph review, there’s the extended non-fiction piece on modern sword collectors (which isn’t exactly readily available for people outside of Edinboro University), and “The Glasmoor Beldam” (not available yet).

Needless to say, I want to get more things published. However, I’m also bad at sorting those bits out. I know, I know. If I had as much drive for figuring out the best approach to getting published as I do for excusing my nervousness about publishing, I’d have a bazillion titles out there for people to enjoy. I’m all too aware of this.

I broke out the external hard drive (which is named Heart of Gold, because why not?), dusted off Death at Teatime, and found a magazine. A copy of the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy would come in handy about now, though I imagine I would still fail to follow its advice to not panic.

Now I play the waiting game. Fingers, toes, and other applicable appendages crossed. Here’s hoping Death at Teatime has finally earned a home somewhere.

My conundrum of wanting to write versus being able to write

Or “I promised myself I would do a little writing every day, and I refuse to break that promise” with a dash of “I resigned myself to not being productive tonight, so I had to prove myself wrong somehow or another.”

I need to write. It’s a compulsion, bordering on a requirement for my very survival (careful, I’m already getting all dramatic about writing and it’s only one line in, because the sub-title doesn’t actually count). If I don’t give my worlds a stage, or my characters the proper chance to have voices, who will? I mean, yes, you could argue that there are only so many, or so few, actual stories, and everything just reworks them to some degree or another, and I would agree to some extent. It’s all in the presentation, I say in such a powerful statement of the obvious that people pointing out how the sky is blue seem to have discovered a brave, new world full of awe-inspiring truths. That sentence was probably a lot more fun to write than it is to read, I imagine. Continue reading

Why whimsy in my writing?

Or “Sorry that I’m not sorry for getting up on my soapbox about writing, because this is my blog about writing (which is something, or so I’m told, I’m relatively good at.” Also, this may end up being on long-ass post. I’m still not sorry. Lastly: confetti and shit! This is totally my hundredth post on Misadventures in Fiction, and that’s really damn exciting for me.

I may have woken up with a touch of a hangover, and a slightly bitter taste in my mouth. My sister, her boyfriend, another friend of hers, and I went to Butcher and the Rye (a restaurant/whiskey bar in Pittsburgh, that was rather nice) last night, and I enjoyed three interesting mixed drinks. I swear this detail is relevant, and it’s not just a small reminder to myself on the matter of being more cautious with what liquors I mix (their blood and sand is delightful, by the way). Stepping back after finishing this post, I can honestly say it was just a framing device with the bitter taste, and a not entirely necessary mention of how I’ve grown fond of scotch in the past year. Hindsight and so on.

Moving along. I have been writing a good deal of fantasy since the start of this year, and I’ve recently returned to writing science fiction (with a humorous slant, of course, because I can’t take myself too seriously, and I expect not many other people can either). One result of this (ignoring the rather horrifying page counts I’ve produced) is I’ve found myself thinking back to a comment made in regards to my writing a while back. It obviously struck a nerve to some extent, and I’m sure that a few people who have heard me rant about this before will be wagging their fingers in my general direction later on (should they read this) for letting it gnaw at me now and again. I’ve mentioned it in other posts. The comment in question was part of a rejection, passed along by word of mouth, about how the piece I submitted was well-written. It was rejected because fantasy and science fiction are such antiquated genres. Continue reading

I may have an addiction to writing

Or “I’ve written over one hundred pages to Joshua’s Nightmares book two in under two weeks time, and I totally forgot to eat a few times during that writing.”

I weighed the pros and cons of getting started on Joshua’s Nightmares book two. I considered how I should probably wait until I get the feedback on book one and make the necessary edits. Friends suggested waiting as well. None of that stopped the ideas and characters from book two from rattling around in my brain, keeping me up at night when I should have been getting much-needed rest for my new job (which I may have forgotten to mention, I’m not sure; I got a promotion and am about halfway into my training). It was unruly, stubborn, and never let me alone until I finally caved and started writing.

And then I deleted the first ten pages completely. In a little under a week’s time, I found myself with over one hundred pages of the first draft completed (most of which had been critiqued by my entirely remarkable editing-friend, who has been invaluable throughout the writing process of Joshua’s Nightmares overall).

However, because I’ve been plugging away so tirelessly on whimsical fantasy, I decided it was time to try my hand at something far more serious: whimsical science fiction. Someone with a mouth, and probably something similar to a brain, once said that fantasy and science fiction are both antiquated genres, but that did little to my interests in them (and god help that smug bastard if I’m ever published on an even remotely decent-sized scale).

More importantly (or, in the spirit of sounding like an infomercial: Wait! There’s more!), my misadventurous journey to write boldly where many have written before will be one I share with you, dear readers.

The short story series: Warpt Factor. The plot: young Izzy Warpt dreams of one day joining the illustrious ranks of the Spiral Reach Academy, seeking out new and exciting discoveries among the stars. Her unbridled enthusiasm proves problematic at times, but nothing in the universe can stop her on her great adventure, even if she has to steal a ship to get it started.

I plan on posting the first installment relatively soon (think some point this weekend, probably), so keep an eye out.

Two; many spaces

Or “I wanted to come up with something clever about spaces after a sentence and this is the best I could think up, so get the eye-rolling out of the way now.”

As far back as I can remember, I’ve put two spaces after sentences while typing. “It looks like you’re only putting one space after sentences,” you might say. And you’d be right, but I’ll get to that.

According to many a teacher, with my Typing class teacher in particular coming to mind, a sentence is to be followed by two spaces before proceeding into the following sentence. Admittedly, it looks right to me. It’s familiar, it’s habitual, and it actually takes some remembering to not make that extra space while in the middle of typing extended bits of writing. If a sentence ended in my writing, the safe bet would have been to expect two spaces.

Friend, fellow writer, and horror movie enthusiast, Zach Owen posted a link to an article on Facebook recently that sort of turned this need for one more space between thoughts on its head, though. The article, and a Google search on the topic in question, revealed the use of two spaces between sentences is a relic from when typewriters were more commonplace, but it is also something to now be considered obsolete by many because of the nature and appearance of the typed word in digital format. Naturally, and as it totally should be, this is the topic of some debate. I prefer to think of it as the grounds upon which defenders of the written word go to battle over, armed with Oxford commas and colorful diction, for the glory of their one space or two space ways.

The most compelling bit, I’ve found, is from Zach’s personal experience with publishers not accepting works with two spaces after sentences.

Fun fact: Joshua’s Nightmares, upon a quick Search and Replace, had 1,026 instances of two spaces after a sentence. So, I mean, thank god I could search that out with Ctrl + F, because otherwise that would have been a special sort of Hell.

In closing, I pose this question: one space or two? What brought you to your one-spacer or two-spacer ways?

A villain’s journey is a hero’s story

Or “Oh, yeah, I totally went there” and “Yes, this is totally another love-letter to villains that I’m completely unashamed of writing”, as well as “Yes, I am referencing Joseph Campbell’s ‘Hero’s Journey’, and I’m glad you noticed”.  I need to dial down the subtitles.  Yeesh.

Let me pose an idea that has probably been presented many times before, but not quite yet in my verbose and almost cartoonishly-exaggerated prose-style.  The villain of many stories is, in their own way, going through their own variation of the hero’s journey.  The variation, and to what degree the villain’s journey is a reversal of the hero’s journey will depend upon the story, and each individual writer’s approach to how they treat (or abuse) their characters.  However, and it pains me to write this, I would argue that the hero’s journey and the villain’s journey are no more or less boring than one another.  The determining factor of which one is more or less compelling is how well-written the characters are.  By this logic, I pose that is is totally possible to have a hero on a compelling, interesting, and emotional of a quest for whatever (redemption, acceptance, to save the world, or any of the other standard or not-so-standard possibilities) opposite an equally compelling, interesting, and emotionally involved villain’s quest to prove those who doubted them wrong, to fulfill their ambitions, or, again, whatever other standard or not-so-standard plot-based rails upon which the character (or character’s) journey will travel.

The villain is the hero of his or her own story.  They have their own dreams and aspirations, even though a lot of those dreams and aspirations happen to involve grabs for world domination or lots of people dying and what have you (although not always, of course).  The morally righteous and the morally questionable are both just as guilty of following their hearts to carve out their own little place in the universe.  The villain just happens to be doing so in a way that has much stronger backlash than the hero.

Yes, it is important to consider that there are villains who are so powerful and impressive in terms of their backstory and their traits that they can eclipse a story’s hero (and I would like to offer a nod to every Loki/Tom Hiddleston fan who would probably agree with this point).  There are times when an amazing hero overcomes such great odds that it makes the villain seem like a crucial, but still boring, set piece in the overall scheme of things.  It’s also important to consider that there are heroes who will be written as generically and blandly as possible, giving readers only the sinister machinations of the devious do-wronger to keep them going through the story in the same way there are villains that are so typically I-want-to-do-bad-because-I-want-to-do-bad boring that the hero is the only redeeming quality the writing has to offer.

The key part to have an amazing story, complete with both noble and morally dubious characters, is to find the balance between the hero’s journey and the villain’s mirroring of that journey in some way.  I am, by the way, so far from finding this balance, I fear, I can hardly see it on the horizon, but it is something all fiction writers should strive for.  To not only have the hero overcome great difficulties, fall to their lowest low, and leave the whole experience transformed by it, but a villain who deals with their own inner demons (sometimes maybe even in a very literal fashion), is faced by great odds, and ultimately leaves the experience changed (even if that change is dying, as that still constitutes a transformation, albeit a very permanent one in most cases).  And yes, there are, and should be, stories that feature the hero ultimately facing the villain, losing, and coming out of it better (as well as the villain not, you know, dying in a spectacular fashion).   Ultimately, yes, there will be some very boring heroes and some just-as-boring villains, and biases will color the way readers look at these types of characters, but I find it hard to accept that one journey is any more or less interesting than another.

Note: I feel like I’m forgetting bits because I started drafting this in my mind while I was still at work, and it’s been a few hours and distractions since that point, so this post didn’t quite receive its deserved, proper treatment.

Creating monsters is my favorite thing to do

Or “This is totally a love letter to writing strong, love-to-hate-and-hate-to-love villains.”

I love me some well-crafted villains.  That’s not exactly news to most people.  There’s a certain appeal to bad guys that heroes can’t capture, and for obvious reasons.  Sure, the hero saves the day, usually by dramatically untying the dude or damsel in distress, foiling the villain’s plan, and defeating/imprisoning/killing off the bad guy in question.  And yes, there’s definitely something enjoyable about writing the hero, flaws and all.  My heart, however, will always have a special soft-spot for creating the villains.  You may find yourself asking “Why’s that, Phil?”

Honestly?  Because we’ve all got a bit of a dark side; that little monster in the back of your head, hiding right behind your conscience and whispering things you’re sure couldn’t have been your own thoughts.  Villains provide the backwards version of our own moral compasses.  That’s not to say all villains are purely evil, and I’ll get to that shortly, but oftentimes they are modeled after a writer’s own view of what is wrong.  You won’t find any heroes tying people to railroad tracks or dangling them above shark tanks.  They’re the thieves, the marauders, the evil grand viziers (or, really, just grand viziers, because that titles seems to belong exclusively to sinister folks intent on taking over the government), the terrorists, and so on and so forth.

There’s so much fun potential for depth and moral gray areas with villainous characters, though.  Can they have redeeming qualities?  Yes.  Why not make them just a teensy bit likeable, too.  Or what if there’s some sad backstory on how they became the nefarious overlord or overlady they are in your story?  Writing villains, at least for me, is the creative equivalent of finding myself on a private beach with a bunch of construction equipment and endless hours to build the most epic, giant sandcastles ever.  That comparison sounded so much cooler in my head.  The best villains are the ones the reader will sympathize with.  The ones who will make readers think “Wow, what an asshole,” but still also cause the reader to want to wrap them in a shock blanket, offer them a mug of hot chocolate, and assure that everything will be okay (just as soon as they put down the remote to their Doomsday Device).  The most fun comes from finding the perfect blend of whatever brand of evil a villain should be and redeeming qualities.  My ideal villain needs to be just evil enough, but have a strong enough pull on a reader’s heartstrings to leave them thinking “Oh, man, did I really just hope this nutcase succeeds over the hero?”

Now you might be saying “Phil, I think you might be a little twisted.”  Maybe you’re right, convenient character helping me transition between talking points.  I would argue, however, that everyone is a little twisted by other people’s standards.  Everyone has at least one or two behaviors or traits that can, and probably would, make another person’s skin crawl.  The fun in writing a good villain is taking a trait like that, mixing it up with other things such as a dash of charisma or a hint of homicidal tendencies, wrapping it in a bow, and then letting it run havoc all over an otherwise perfectly peaceful fictional world.

Villains stir things up.  They screw with the status quo, help get heroes to the moral of the story, and, quite frankly, usually look pretty awesome in the process.  This post was brought to you by me writing a particularly “holy crap, did I just think that” line for a villain in Joshua’s Nightmares.  What are your favorite bits about writing bad guys?  And yes, killing them off in magnificently creative ways is an option.

How early is too early to plan a sequel?

Or “How to handle being too attached to your own characters without killing them all at the end of the book.”

I skipped out on writing and reading yesterday (ignoring my journal entry last night, which doesn’t really count since it’s not creative writing and the goal was some creative writing each day).  I’d like to say I took a day off for a good reason, but it was mostly just a mix of laziness and being tired from work.  Excuses, excuses.

Naturally, I felt a bit guilty about that today, and so I focused on getting some new bits added to “Joshua’s Nightmares”.  I had errands to run today in preparation of an important interview of the job variety, which meant I had to get a shower at some point.  In the process of getting ready to shower (yes, I know, there is a lot of process to me not being lazy on my weekends off), I found myself thinking about certain prominent characters from “Joshua’s Nightmares” and where they’d end up at the end of the story.  Yes, there would be closure for them, but it felt like there was more that could happen.

And that’s when an idea happened.  It met up with similar ideas, which in turn met with other similar ideas.  I realize this presents a bit of a bothersome situation, as I’m not even close to halfway done with “Joshua’s Nightmares” and I’m already thinking, “Hey, there should be a second book.”

So the real question to you writer-type people is how soon is too soon for sequel-oriented thinking?  Or is it just one of those things you should embrace as it happens?

Either way, I’m afraid to say I’ll have to stash the ideas away in my little red Moleskine for the time being.

The best sorts of creative outbursts

Or “How doing the dishes triggers the best kind of daydreaming, unless you daydream about doing the dishes.”

Tonight has turned out to be a fairly average Wednesday night, and I found myself washing the dishes I’ve ignored for far too long.  This is, of course, not my favorite activity, but there are only eight bowls in the house, four of which are only large enough for a small serving of cereal, and I can only justify pretending Tupperware is a solid alternative for so long.  I’m completely unashamed of the fact that I heated up soup in, and ate the aforementioned soup from, a microwave-safe container, by the way.

Veering back toward my point: I found myself listening to music on my trusty iPod, going through the robotic motions of washing the dishes, when a hint of an idea for something later in “Joshua’s Nightmares” popped up in the forefront of my thoughts.  I considered the revisions, then stored them away in their usual spot in my memory (which, by the way, probably looks something like the top of my dresser: riddled with notebooks, writing utensils, and a good deal of unused origami paper).

That’s when the idea exploded, becoming so much more (at least, as of now, to me) than it had been in its initial drafting.  It’s probably one of  my favorite parts of the writing process, because it’s something I have no control over.  The thrill of having an idea go from being a spark to an inferno is one I have yet to fully recreate elsewhere (except maybe on rollercoasters, and I think I’m mistaking the rush of creativity for the rush of blood to my brain).

The siren call of sleep

Or “I know I said I’m going to bed, and I totally am right after I write this entry.”

About now, I should be getting ready for bed.  Writing tonight’s journal entry, brushing my teeth, and so on and so on.  The cursor in Microsoft Word is blinking at me in a way that says “Why are you leaving me?  I have so many words you’ve not added to your story yet.”  That’s true, by the way.  I’ve reached that creative stride where I find myself writing almost effortlessly.  I’m sure the editing phases of this novel-to-be will be less smooth, but let’s not think about that now.

My bed, of course, is calling to me.  It’s saying how comfortable the comforter is (with emphasis on how those are practically the same word, obviously), how fluffy my pillow is, and how I will hate myself if I don’t get to sleep soon because I have a solid eight hours ahead of me at work tomorrow, and that’s a thought that makes my blood run cold these days.  And, really, any day because work is indeed work.  I’m not overly fond of work.  Mind you, I still can’t complain because it’s a great job that’s been a tremendous help.  It still isn’t writing for a living, but it helps enable the act of writing in my spare time and so I’ll take what I can get.

Now if I were to go back in time and tell myself I would have written over seven thousand new words worth of “Joshua’s Nightmares” over the course of a couple days, I would ask myself why I’m not putting time travel abilities to better use.  My moral compass points to get-rich quick schemes involving time travel.  That’s not actually the point, though.

I have made tremendous progress in terms of drafting “Joshua’s Nightmares”, which has in turn made me even more enthusiastic about working on it.  Being tired from my day-job becomes a non-issue when I get home and open Microsoft Word.  This is what I went to college for, and why I have continued to write; to recapture this feeling of happiness and accomplishment.  Okay, and maybe because I think I would just die if I stopped writing.  Nobody say that’s a good thing.  I know one or two of you are thinking it, and you are so on my shit-list.

Small confession, by the way: I wish I had some moderately decent artistic skills in terms of drawing or painting.  Down the road, I may have to pony up the money to get someone to draw a map of the Sleep State to go with “Joshua’s Nightmares”.  It would look so cool.  Trust me.  I’m probably not trying to be an unreliable narrator in this post.

The siren call of sleep has reached the point where I can’t ignore it any longer, and so I’m going to head to bed.  Wishing you all a good night, and plenty of highly productive days of creativity.  Oh, and don’t freeze tomorrow because apparently there’s more frigid fun on the way.