Searching for my voice

Ugh.  So I’m 16,000+ words into The Veil.

I watched Donnie Darko three nights ago and it resonated with me.  Which now has me contemplating tossing half of what I’ve written.

Where I was with The Veil had it turning into a group hero piece.  That wasn’t working.  Deep down, I wanted the story to be more introspective, more a tale of identity and learning who you want to be.

Donnie Darko had this dreamlike quality to it.  The events of the movie seemed random until the very end, when you realise that the purpose of them all was to drive the hero to his destiny.  The story tied into questions of existence, love and being alone.

That’s the voice I’ve been searching for.  Now, I need to plot.  This time, for real.  No writing until I have a rough plot drafted out.  This write and find out approach is a big fail for me.

Depression, Writing & Satisfying the Need

My tag-line for this blog is, “This is my writing journey.”

Because maybe someday  someone (perhaps only myself) might find this interesting, I’m going to not only throw out great tips and the lessons I learn, I’m also going to comment on me, myself, and sometimes, I.

Yesterday I was depressed.  I don’t mean just feeling blue, I’m talking about staring blankly at the screen, no energy, questioning my existence, depressed.  It sucked.  What irritated me most about it was that I had no idea why I should feel that way.  I used to have many of those days.  Since giving my life some serious evaluation, seeking a little professional help and getting off my butt and actually working to make my writing dream come true, I’ve felt much better.  So why all of a sudden?  I came up with two answers. One was no big surprise.  The other gave me some serious food for thought.

The easy answer was the weather.  April surprised us all with its warmth and sunshine.  While May got off to a good start, yesterday was a horrible day.  Though it wasn’t as cold as winter, it was that kind of damp chill that creeps under your skin.  Add the grey sky and you have a very dreary day.

The interesting answer had to do with my writing and my online persona.

I haven’t touched The Veil in over a week.  The word count sits stagnant at the right side of my website, begging to be increased.  I put it there to guilt me into action.  The guilt is there, not so much the action.  I also hadn’t blogged in four days.  While I’ve been present on Twitter, my posts have provided little in the way of substance.  In short, I felt like a poser, a fake.

I’ve had numerous story ideas in the past.  The more I thought about them, the more themes and ideas I threw at them.  They buckled under the weight until they finally cracked beyond repair.  By comparison, the more thought I give to The Veil, the more it asks for.  The deeper I delve, the more layers it reveals.  It’s liberating and scary as hell.  I’ve allowed myself to be frightened to a standstill.  I need to get over it.

I’ve made no attempt to hide the fact I am a chaotic writer.  I don’t plot ahead, I don’t plan for specific times of day to write, I don’t have any kind of regular regiment.  This is turning into a considerable weakness.

I work shifts.  Between my job, my kids, trying to be a good husband, and just finding time to breathe, it’s impossible to pick a time of day in which to write.  There’s no time that will work everyday.  So I’m thinking what I need to do is look at my schedule for the week and decide on a day to day basis when I’m going to write.  Whether it be a blog entry or The Veil, I need to get my fingers moving on the keyboard.  I feel more alive when I see words forming on the screen in front of me.  There’s an energy in creating something that never existed before.  Even if my first draft is crap.  Even if I end up rewriting eighty-percent of it, there is still energy and power in its mere existence.  Within the dirt is a gem worth harvesting.

Now the question is, will I walk the walk, or is this just a whole lotta talk?

Current state of my writing

I’ve been away from writing for a couple of days.  This isn’t to say writing has been far from my mind, quite the contrary.  My iPhone currently has two scenes in it that I wrote in the middle of nowhere after having been hit by inspiration on the drive to said nowhere.

I find my story comes to me in drips and drabs.  Sometimes a whole scene washes in and obliterates everything in its path.  At other times, a few key sentences, a stray thought, are all that come through.

I keep trying to sit down and plot everything out.  Every time I do that, I get seemingly more stuck than just sitting at the keyboard and letting words flow.  I’m finding out I am the kind of writer that needs to get there before I can describe it.  I don’t know all the scenes in my story because I haven’t made it there yet.  I’m hoping this changes.  I can’t imagine trying to build a career based on whim and mercy of the creative muse.

On the up side, I figured out how it ends.  I know who the villain is.  I know why he’s doing the things he’s doing.  His undoing was one of the scenes I wrote in my iPhone.

Which brings up another stray thought I’m going to throw out; never be too focused on your current work that you ignore other ideas.

My wife is a photographer and visual artist.  She and I have talked about collaborating on a piece of work.  This really excites me.  I came up with two things for this work that I kept mulling in my head.  Guess what?  I used them for my novel.  See, they didn’t work on their own, but put the mention of them on the lips of a madman and suddenly things are cooking!

So my collaboration is on the back burner, and I need to sit and get to work.

I guess I should stop referring to my work in progress as that.  Right now, the working title is The Veil.  I’ll call it that from now on since it just makes things easier.

Sorry, this blog post is random.  Not so much in terms of advice, but more a journal entry.  I’ll do these from time to time.  Now I think I’ll go work on The Veil and see if I can crack 15,000 words.

Going With It or Accepting that I Am God

So I’ve been talking a great deal about plot.  Actually, my last four posts have been obsessions about it.  Seeing as how plot is the main vehicle for story, it seems important, right?  Unfortunately, what my researching on plot has revealed to me is that my current work in progress was severely lacking in it.  Sure, I had some characters, I had lots of concepts, but I lacked structure.  I lacked an actual story.  Most stories are propelled forward by some form of conflict, and I was really lacking in that area.  My antagonist was weak and his motivations murky at best.  It left me with a lot of questions regarding the viability of my “story.”

So, breakthrough while out in the car driving last night.  Funny thing though, my initial reaction was what I’m blogging about today.  When I thought of the main antagonist’s motivation, his plan, my initial reaction was, “I can’t do that, it might lead to A or B and that’s just too mean.”  The problem is, sometimes you have to mean.  Sometimes you have to accept that you will become the hated God of your own little created reality.

Does the idea of being God make you wriggle a little?  Does it make you uncomfortable?  Maybe, but it is the truth.  For our stories, we assume the role of the creator.  We breathe life into our characters where none existed before, we create the laws of physics, we populate the world with plants and beasts.  We guide the events of the story toward our desired ending.  Sometimes we are cruel.  Sometimes we are kind.  We need to be above morality, because sometimes we have to let awful things happen.  Sometimes a child, pure and innocent, has to die.  Sometimes an entire city needs to be wiped off the face of the earth.  Sometimes our hero needs to cry, fail, or die.  Ultimately, we are the ones responsible.

I need to let go.  I need to accept that if this is right, if what my antagonist is doing are the actions he would take, I need to let him.  I can move my hero and his companions into places to keep some of them safe, I can ultimately lead them to a place where they may foil his plan, but I also need to accept that there will be casualties along the way.  I have to accept the blood on my hands.  I have to accept that letting these things happen does not make me less of a human being, it makes me more of a writer.

As a reader I’ve been let down in the past by authors setting up certain events, only to have them completely back out in the end.  I felt betrayed and ultimately the book was less fulfilling.  I have to remember that experience as a writer.  I have to live up to my readers, which means I have to live up to my story, even if it makes me feel uncomfortable.  After all, being God is a tough job.

OK, decision made

So in regards to my previous posts on plot, I am now convinced that crashing ahead is the wrong way to go.  I said I’d tell you and here I am.

Here’s the thing.  I’ve been devoting some time and concentration to the links on plot that I posted the other day.  They have been incredibly inspiring and insightful.  The problem is, I’m now looking at the 14,000+ words I’ve already written, not to mention the next 2,000+ those words set up, and I’m thinking it’s now all wrong.  That’s a pretty hard pill to swallow.  So, do I scrap it all and start from scratch?  Do I carry on as if I had written what I had intended, get to the end and then go back during the rewrites.  Or do I bang my head a little more and see if I can make what exists work at least even a little?

I wouldn’t be in exactly this mess if I had done all this work before committing words to page.  I mean, at my current position, I am only vaguely aware of my antagonist.  How am I supposed to have a cohesive plot and conflict without any form of antagonist?  I need to rethink a lot of what I’ve done and where I was going with it.

So I have some challenges ahead.  I’m going to hammer out a plot outline basing it on the idea that I will leave what I already have.  I know there will be major revisions eventually, but at least it won’t be as demoralizing as deleting everything.  Wish me luck.  Progress updates as I go.

First, a little note saying “Thanks!”

I just wanted to take a moment here to publicly acknowledge a whole community that I consider myself fortunate for discovering.

Under different names and websites, I have been active on the net for twelve years or more.  In that time, I felt largely ignored and monumentally alone.  Seeing as how website creation, blogging and writing poetry & fiction have been my hobbies over the years, it can make for a solitary existence.  It’s so easy to give up on a project or not bother to blog for months on end when you feel that all you’re doing, all you’ll ever be doing, is talking to yourself.

A month ago, I decided to join Twitter as Justus R Stone (my chosen pen name).  I started doing some research and through useful hash tags such as #amwriting started connecting with other writers.  Some of these people are already published, many more are hard at work getting there.  Universally, they all pass along outstanding advice and support.

This blog is new.  This will be the 14th post.  And yet I have had more people make comments on my articles here than I did on any other blog or website I have owned in the past 12 years.  It is so much easier to sit down and write my work in progress, or do a blog entry, when it feels like there are people pulling for me.

Now, I do have a loving wife and kids who are always in my corner, but none of them are writers.  It is an entirely different experience to receive support and encouragement from those that share your passion and understand the trials that passion brings.

So I just wanted to say thank you to all those who have come to visit, to those who are following the feed and to those who join me on Twitter.  You have all made this new step into realising my dream much easier and made obtaining that end goal seem all the more attainable.

Doctor Who Love-in, or, Passin’ on the genre love

Everything I’ve posted so far has been about writing advice.  To be sure, as I discover new and wondrous things on this writing journey, I will pass it on.  But my six year old son (my youngest) did something today that just inspired me to make this a personal blog entry.  He came up to me and, word for word, quoted the first episode of the new season of Doctor Who.  I asked my wife how many times he had watched it.  She responded that he had seen it three times, as well as three times for the second episode.  My youngster’s greatest ambition at the moment is obtaining a sonic screwdriver.

This brought to mind the scene in my household only a few days earlier, when all four of us sat down in the living room and watched these latest episodes of Doctor Who.  Myself, my wife and my two boys (who rarely can be in the same room let alone watch the same show) all enraptured by a tale of a mad man and his box.

When I was a boy, this same scene played out with my Dad and I.  It is my Dad that I have to thank for my healthy love for science-fiction, fantasy, reading, movies and yes, Doctor Who.  I recall when Star Trek The Next Generation premiered, we planned our whole day out to ensure we were front and center when it began.  He took me to see all the Star Wars movies when they were in theatres (the originals).  He read me the Wind in the Willows when I was a boy and passed on his complete collection of Hardy Boys novels.  As a child I was ignorant to the many hours he spent putting stickers on and assembling various Transformers, GI Joe and other toys.  In short, everything I love today, I can trace back to those earliest times I shared with my Dad.  And now, I am doing the same with my own boys.

When I lost my Dad to cancer in September of 2009, I don’t think I realised this as strongly as I do now.  As I plunder through my work in progress, pouring all the thoughts and desires of a sci-fi/fantasy, anime loving geek into it, I pause to think that it is my Dad who helped me find these things.  When the day comes that I write “The End” it will be in no small part thanks to him.

I’m particularly blessed, because I found a woman who loves all things geek perhaps more than I do.  I never drag her to see The Matrix or such, it is she leading me.  And now we sit with our boys, cuddled on the couch, watching Doctor Who.  My role is reversed.  My boys look to me with wide eyes and ask about the past Doctors, or about the shows and movies I watched when I was younger.  As they get older, I’m sharing more and more of these with them.  I understand the bond it creates between us and I realise how much I miss my Dad.

Is Doctor Who the greatest TV show ever created?  Well, I suppose that’s debatable.  In our household, greatest or not, it certainly is magical.