20. does size matter?

Soo I finished Until the End of the World yesterday. Another ‘milestone’, I suppose. Thinking back, I’ve had the relatively complete story outlined from as far back as March, 2009, and it was interesting to see those scenes transposed from bullet points to (fairly) fleshed-out chapters. Considering I first came up with the ‘core’ idea back in 1997–after the spring break car accident (which the beginning of the novel alludes to, with James arriving on a Grayhound bus)–that’s a long, long span of time.

What also struck me was how quickly it passed, and the end result word count — 53,000. That just about inches it over the line between novella and novel, according to the wiki article on word count/book length. Back when I was writing the beginning of this novel in tangent to the Book of Mirrors (spring 2010) I thought they’d be about the same–the goal was 70k. Instead, BoM increased to 82k on the first draft, expanded in part by Gabe’s extensive adventures with Vonoh, while this fell shy of the even 60k I’d reconsidered as the probable word count a month previous. Now, the book is only first draft, and I know I’ve a couple thousand to add to it. I sort of skimmed through the LGAT/Casteneda criticism sections, as I knew those could potentially bog the novel down right where it should pick up. Still, there are some essential nuggets of information I need to include. There may be a bit of expansion to the party scene in Part II, though nothing significant. It’s looking like the book may max out at 55 or 56k in the end.

But that doesn’t bother me.

A long, long time ago, when I was writing my first short stories and poems (high school days), actually writing a book-length manuscript was beyond ability or belief. I even attempted to write two different books back in the 8th grade(!) that reached 3,000 or so. I wrote an extensive plot summery for a book I wanted to write (and would never waste the time to do so now) not once, but three times (once at 16, two more at 21). And as a lot of my work has been either novellas/novellettes of ‘literary’ fiction or full on fantasy epics broaching or breaking 200k, I’ve sort of existed in a binary phase of either/or — either 40k or below, or 180k and above.

I should note that, after completing Sorrow’s Heart in 2010, at a whopping 300k, size suddenly became relative. I’d stretched myself and composed something mammoth (hell, I could have bumped it to 350 – 380 if I hadn’t decided to move an entire plotline to the next novel); size no longer mattered… at all. So 53k? So what? What matters is the story it tells. I’d rather it be short than bloated. Particularly with a book of this type (subversive romance/social criticism swathed in archtypical tropes).

Last night I read through a couple sections from Blurb, and I was impressed–much more than I’d anticipated. So that will be my project for the next two 1/2 months. And when I complete that, it’ll bring my completed book total for 2012 to 3…

…something I could not even have dreamed about, even five years ago.

19. scrubbing the dark

I had an enjoyable conversation with my friend E. last night concerning certain impressions recieved from the editing and writing of the past few weeks. Enjoyable in that I was able to articulate a strange and uneasy feeling in regards to the craft, and my current phase of composition…

I began the book I’m currently working on in January of 2010. Based on conversations with E. regarding cult activity, cult recruiting techniques, New Wage hogwash bottled as elixers of enlightenment–and then subsequent research as to the emergence and administration of these cults through the latter half of the twentieth century–I took the template for a book I’d been considering from back in 1997 (a romance between bad boy/good girl in a small town and the usual complications) and restructured it to incorporate some of these themes. Given that trauma, exploitation and abuse seem central to the underlying principles upon which these groups engage (offering ‘healing’ from the subtle wounds of the psyche, only to ruthlessly replitcate those wounds in new permutations in order to fashion a slave to the particular system)–this is pretty dark shit. I managed about 1/3rd of the text over the course of a couple months (drawing from previous ‘drafts’ — a graphic novel and screenplay written for college classes), then put it away for other works. As time went on, the book and its hold on me grew smaller and smaller as I struggled through various other projects, but never faded: I knew the ideas were strong and I knew that someday I’d have to return and wrap it up appropriately.

But that required re-entering into the darkness. And after the birth of my daughter, I’ve found myself more and more reluctant to engage in that particular mental field; I know that when one scrubs the abyss for its barnicles and rust, seeking some shine of truth, flakes and residue is bound to linger, even if the act be merely the creative composition. I recall completing the 300k text for Sorrow’s Heart in the summer of 2010 and openly thinking that I would never again venture that deep and dark in my writings, not with a young one in the household.

But this book still remained incomplete, and such projects–particularly when there is a perceived verve, a power, contained within its full potential–those projects tend to haunt. To irritate. So I’ve put it off, and put it off, but I’d long planned to complete it by spring 2012.

(It feels like the last almost-year, in fact, has entailed wrapping up old projects so as to move fully into new ones)

I write all this because, yesterday and the day before, I wrote the climax to this book –  very dark and disturbing stuff, psychological violence of the most invasive and debilitating (to these characters). And I came home and found my little girl running down the street, smiling and squeeking with joy, the perfect picture of 2 year old innocense. I was able to ‘act’, to shove down the disturbance of that which I had processed and put down… but it lingered, and I did not like being even in my daughter’s proximity with the ‘haunting’ of such writing. In a recent blog post, R. Scott Bakker confessed that he would not be able to write his sci-fi novel Neuropath now that he has a daughter. Having a child changes you in ways you cannot predict (or, at least, it should change you…)

Alongside that, I also finished my edit on Sacred Cycles, and my overall opinion is… mixed. I wrote it in 2007, and no-doubt some of my research coupled with travel trauma coupled with general depression wormed its way into the text; do I not write, partially at least, as a form of therapy? In any case, I found most of the novel impressive. All those edits and hours paid off, and a good part of the prose is satisfactory to my eye and inner voice (not bad, considering I wrote it five years ago). There are maybe a dozen areas that need serious editing and re-writing, which is not significant at all for a 225k-word book. But on the other hand, I wonder if I was overdoing the dark a bit, if the depression and delving of the dark side wrenched the work into caricature…

then again, I browed an article on street children in the Ukraine and one on the increasing human trafficking situation in the U.S, and I am reminded that it is bleak out there, and no matter my misanthropy, the truth of the ‘real’ is much, much worse…

18. happy cycling

I added the words up for this year and I’m sitting at just over 70k… not bad for two months and around 25 days of it without composition of any significance. The goal right now is somehow, between my school duties and masters work etc., to hammer out another 100k by the end of May. That, and complete my current editing goals…

…which have, well, expanded. After completing Immortal Coil last month, I decided now was as good a time as any to continue on — to give the million and so words cranked out in my ‘primary word’ a surface edit. This required re-entering creative ground I was not quite comfortable with, for a variety of reasons.. “but,” I told myself, “I might as well; if nothing else, those old books certainly helped you shave down the rough edges of style and craft…”

I wrote Sacred Cycles, the first volume of my incomplete five-book ‘meta-epic’, in 2007. The 225k text took around seven months, stretched out over 11 months (i was married that year, which dominated most of the summer ). The book was complex and convoluted, dense and demanding, and even flush in the creative buzz I knew it might be a hard sell in the foundering, fluctuating book market of that period (things haven’t gotten much better). I edited the book periodically through 2008 and then basically put it away in 2009 under the advice of a college professor, moving on to other works. I gave it a once-over in 2010 before finallizing a print job… (printing that amount of words is usually $20, a sizable investment to a brokeass college student).. and let it sit for the next year, as I completed other projects, some in the same world, others far different.

There is always this uncomfortable anticipation/dread that comes with opening an old book, one labored so fiercly on so many years past, edged with the sinking swirling feeling of “gawd, what was I thinking?” I felt this quite keenly in 2010 / 2011, while reconstructing my very first novel from its bloated 2001 completion to a leaner, read-able draft. Venturing into Sacred Cycles, volume ten of my ‘collected works’ library, contained very much the same tension.

But this time around… it’s different. Complicated. For one, the book mostly works now. This is a surprise; I labored long and hard on this sucker and sometimes despaired of ever feeling satisfied over it. I keenly recall the massive rewrites, the surprised little pleasures, the surface skim of printed words and subsequent bewildering twine of pride and frustration.

But now…  My initial reaction through the first few chapters was puzzlement at the general quality. I’d half-assumed it would read stilted and unsatisfactory; for years I’ve had the impression that I had edited too much, and in that process pulverized the potential.  There was also a wierd sense of dislocation. The book felt dense, almost too dense. So many names and worldbuilding to occasionally warp the pacing. This ambiguous feeling was exaggerated, perhaps, by having Immortal Coil as an immediate contrast.

In hindsight–approx. 1/3rd through SC–I’m really, really glad I wrote IC as a ‘side novel’ and potential introductory text to the overall arc. IC is a better, friendlier novel. The characters resonate stronger, and there’s far fewer of them. The world contains depth but manages to navigate the problematic density that affects SC. The “dimestore misanthropy” that I infused into SC is toned down or developed in a more sophisticated manner.

And yet… there is a quality to SC that I’m enjoying. Quite a bit of the prose has been honed through the dozen or so edits to a sharpness and surety that makes reading it enjoyable (and that’s the goal, frankly). I recall from previous edits that the book started really clicking around chapter 6; so it is the same now–other than a handful of faint edits, chapter 6 passed so smooth I had to double-check to make sure I wasn’t just lulled by the storytelling.

A good feeling, all in all. It’s been more than five years, and all that struggle did pay off, in the end. There’s still work to do on SC (not to mention the 700,000 words still to be written in this series) but for now, I’m happy cycling.

Current composition work is on Until the End of the World. I’ve composed roughly 8k in the past week, and considering it’s been almost two years from when I ceased working on the draft…  it’s an interesting feeling,  all told. I managed to type out rough sketchs of the second ‘cult criticism’ sections. Given that it’s been four years from when I did the initial research, I’ve had to visit RickRoss and other associated forums to remember some of the details, even if the storytelling structure remains concrete.

Oh, but this is a dark book… I’m only working on it during my breaks at school. Don’t want that creative energy in the household, frankly. After this (probably completed by the end of March?) I’m going to whip out Blurb and then return to speculative fiction for the rest of the year–the Lash, The Subtle Wound, and The Netherworld Throne. all of which will carry into 2013…

..happy cycling. Sometimes I wonder why I haven’t gone mad.

17. …

A couple of days ago I was playing with my daughter in her room. Lego blocks scattered by her feet. I leaned into the top of her head, and kissed her sweet-smelling hair. “I love you, Yuna.”

She looked up to me, then reached out and patted my hand. “I love you too.”

At 22 months. I melted.

….

I took a break from writing for the past week. Fallout exhaustion from completing BoM? Perhaps. Stress in applying for jobs (applying at school districts can take an hour or more)? Probably. I also bit the bullet and began reading and revising Immortal Coil, which I’ve been planning to do for months now.

Overall, I was impressed. Very impressed, given that major passages in the second half are at 1st/2nd draft stage. There were passages I re-wrote; the usual dozen nicks-per-page of honing and cutting; a growing awareness of certain ideas and words overused that will need to be addressed in the next line edit… but the novel clicked. The characters maintained consistency. The conflict was crushing. I enjoyed reading it, throughout. Images lingered, and haunted. Given that this may be the text I use as my stepping-stone, and given that I haven’t read it from when I completed it back in April 2011, these were very good impressions.

Now, I do believe I am going to work on little projects for the time being, let this edit ‘breath’, and come back to it for another editorial sweep in April.

It almost… not quiet yet… but almost feels like the time.

16. whatamItalkinbout

…so, flush in the triumph of another novel completed and no one to talk to about it (other than my better half, but that only goes so far), I called two friends. The first wasn’t there, so I called my old high school buddy whom I collaborated/competed with back in the day. The reaction was unsurprising, given certain psychological factors between us, an artistic tug-of-war never settled from the halcyon days. Yet again I recieved the impatient  impression of ‘not wanting to hear about it / patiently waiting for a chance to keep talking,’ which is normal in a regular phone call conversation but seems to spike when certain subjects (like quantity of writing) comes up.

I suppose it’s appropriate, given that my next novel is “blurb” and it’s all about the craft itself and the frustrations of unpublished authors. The fragile ambitions of ‘artistic’ youth, and how they fade or furrow to certain grooves as age atrophies or aggrevates the nascent talent through lack of success (with some funny tales from roadtrips thrown in for the heck of it…). The core idea is a writer, failed and flailing, decides to take a road trip after his father’s death to visit his old writing buddies from back in college. Some have attained success, others have veered into comfortable middle-class occupations. A few have undergone frienzied descents into alternative realities and/or into the isolation void, screwed loose by the insanity of percieved “end times”, by artistic angst unlevened by outside experiences. All, without exception, are unhinged in one way or another by the demands and distractions of mainstream society, and petty jealousies, back-biting, envy, guarded enthusiasm, feverish competition… these emotive bladders burst all over my core protagonists as the novel progresses.  I plan on constructing lots of rants about the surface skitterscat modern technology has skullfucked into the living generations, hence the title, “blurb” –

blurb

noun

1.

a brief advertisement or announcement, especially a laudatory one: She wrote a good blurb for her friend’s novel.

verb (used with object)

2.

to advertise or praise in the manner of a blurb.

 

1907, coined by U.S. humorist Gelett Burgess (1866-1951) to mock excessive praise printed on book jackets. But also sometimes attributed to U.S. scholar Brander Matthews (1852-1929).

 

 

 

…..and yes, I plan on mocking ‘excessive praise’ and all the hyperbole and histrionics that clamor for our attention, our wallets, the very currency of life itself, time.

15. …BoM completed, and other considerations

So today I completed the first draft for The Book of Mirrors.  The usual rush of completion was almost immediately followed by a despondant come-down. This may stem from the fact that I have a lot of work to do on the draft. Unlike many of my previous books, I didn’t edit as I worked, at least past the 1/6th point; more than three quarters of the novel is first draft, and I know that some areas are going to recieve a vigorous red-pen workout across multiple drafts before I’m satisfied. (other sections I somehow nailed almost perfect — the wages of practice and inspiration, I suppose).

The draft came in at just over 82,000, which is about 12-16k more than I thought it would be a year ago (or even two months ago). What astounds me is that I gnashed out over 55,000 words in less than a month. On a project that bubbled inside for nearly two years. Part of that haste, I know, stems from the fact that I wanted something substantial to present to my daughter for her birthday in April (this book is dedicated for her, after all) and I needed to give it a couple good rinses after completion to achieve even a nominal satisfaction in the giving (pride, ever the poisonous passion!). Part of the haste stems from the fact that I have a goal of completing 5 novels this year, and to accomplish that I need to put the words to the paper. A huge part of it comes from the very real stresses accumulating from my masters degree requirments and the need to finda  job for this fall–both of which are going to require significant time allocation. Now that BoM is done (and this really was my big goal for this first half of the year), I can focus on those necessities without this bogging down my mind.

That said, I’ve decided to delay my submission process for another year, possibly two. I have a two year contract to complete with LETQP and frankly, I’d like to beef up my portfolio a bit more before biting the bullet. I have minor projects I’d like to complete before shackling myself to spec. fiction. I have a shit-load of stuff to do, and the grind of trying to locate an agent right now… no thanks! I’ve waited 20 years, a couple more before the knives come out is no wait at all.

(that, and I can complete 8 novels in that stretch).

For the rest of the semester, I’m going to putter away on UtEotW and Blurb, with a few additional chapters on the Lash, with the goal of having all three done by August (the first two by May, if possible). Then, in the fall, work on TNT and TSW. This is ambitious. But shit, I can do it, no problem! If nothing else, the last four years have turned me into a machine.

14. the book of mirrors

Well, everything is rapidly speeding up as the semester progresses. My classes don’t seem particularly ‘hard’, just the usual busywork blabba-blabba. Compounded on it is the honing of the resume and the preparations to mass-submit my applications to specific high-needs districts in Denver, Albuquerque, Sante Fe etc. etc. Part of the reason I did this masters was so that the landing back into the real world after the college ‘vacation’ wouldn’t be so abrupt (that, and the shitty economy). I now have a year’s experience, some new lessons learned via classroom teaching and management, and the economy is better than it was a year ago… so I suppose “mission successful.”

I wrote around 40,000 words on The Book of Mirrors in January, bringing me to around the3/4ths mark. A little reflection is due. I started thinking about this particular project, a YA-style fantasy novel, as early as 2006. It would draw inspiration from all those imaginative texts that influenced my childhood span. I figured I would write it for my own daughter, when she’s a tween (or younger, depending on her level of precociousness). I had sketched out ideas for it back in 2008, long before she was a twinkle of conception; I started in in January 2010, when my wife was halfway through the pregnancy. The timing seemed apt. I had a creative-writing course for my minor that semester, and figured it would be a good time as any to start. I worked on it concurrently with two other novels and completed the semester with around 13,000 words–the opening sequence, essentially. Curiously, the ‘real world’ opening was easy, but I found myself stalled at the threshold of the fantasy segment. I had ideas, but not much in the way of connecting thread; the underlying foundation felt rather hollow, the particulars sketchily-developed at best. So I took some time off from the project, moving onto other novels. Nearly two years passed. I managed, in that time, to double the length of the original draft, reaching around 26,000 by the end of 2011 (5k of that emerged during a two-day spree @ Thanksgiving break). I’d like to say that I spent those years developing the abstractions to articulate ideas, but frankly there wasn’t much of that at all. I did, here and there, build a more substantial spine of events and characters and overall arc; but as I began working on it come January 10th 2012, much of it still remained frighteningly vague.

Perhaps I was working on it, subconsciously; or perhaps the process of the craft itself forced the brain to invention. In any case, 40k in a month is something I haven’t accomplished in a while (not in about a year, I’d assume) and I’m pretty happy with the overall result, no matter that virtually all of it is first-draft and thus necessitating hours of revision and recalibration of the prose. The ideas themselves? The integrals? I’m pleased with the result. Very little to alter or rearrange.

My goal for Febuary is to complete the first draft–roughly 20k or so–and to give it at least one redline edit and one polish. I’m not committing my energy to anything more than that, given the plethora of stuff on my plate.

13. blowback blather

I spent part of this morning reading a slew of articles and RIP (random internet postings) concerning the doldrums of the state of film/studios, 2011. Several cogent points caught my attention. How ticket sales are the lowest from 1995 (!) and general audience fatigue regarding blockbusters. The usual sniping about how suits with MBAs are making the majority of creative decisions, and the shoddy results. And entertainment saturation–this was mentioned again and again–where ‘going to the movies’ is an expensive alternative easily surplanted by video games or television shows with a far greater cost / benefit ratio (the price of a 40-80 hour video game vs. one or two 2 hour movies in the cineplex?)…

The last point in particular got me thinking. In the last fifteen years the available content and delivery of said content via the online interface has exponentially grown to the point that I cannot concieve going back to, say, 1998 and waiting to download JPGs on a 56k… no more than I could have envisioned the ability to download a HD movie in less time than it takes to watch half of it. Apparently steps are being taken–SOPA and all that–to curtail the widespread piracy, but I have my doubts. Give a dog a steak and it will not go back to the bone. Piracy has become so entrenched in the USA’s consumption-crazy culture–particularly among the young generations used to watching videos/movies on their cell phoens (I see it among the “high needs” kids in my school!)–that the blowback of SOPA might be significant. Not to mention be circumvented almost immediately, as human ingenuity compensates for regulatory practices, new technologies are developed to continue the collaborative crux, etc… so I assume.

edit: well, that was fast: https://www.ipredator.se/?lang=en

What is interesting is that, as a ‘pirate,’ I’ve grown increasingly restrictive in my browsing and downloading. A good part of this is my busy schedule; although I can download 10 albums in an hour, I might take the time to listen to one in a month. (as a DJ, I tend to make my own “albums” anyway…). The same goes for movies — Although I actually watched more films in the theater this year (3) than in the last three years combined (1), those were mostly for ‘date nights’ with the wife. All the entertainment in the world is available… but I find myself desiring mostly to stick to my new Kindle, and occasionally stream a show to spend the pleasant evening with the better half.

On a more personal note, I’m three days into my low/no caffiene month. I drank one cup of green tea on Tues. and consumed no caffiene at all Wed. and Thurs. Predictably (as I’ve done this before), I had a splitting headache yesterday and still feel tugs of fatigue throughout the day, though this day was somewhat better in that regard.

12. post holiday (or, welcome to the apolcalypse delayed)

I recall a couple years back, discussing 2012 with the scion of one of P-town’s loopier couples. Apparently word ’round the New Age campfire held that a shift of the atmosphere to “plasma” or somesuch nonsense was to occur in 2012, changing everything. I suppose I could research the exact belief, but I can’t be bothered. In any case…

The holidays for late 2011 passed by in a blur. Lil’ apple recieved the full dose of grandmother gifting, to the point that she was a little overwhelmed. I drank too much and didn’t get half the work I’d planned on done, but given that the next five months are going to be nose to the grindstone, I didn’t much fret on it, either. Ended the year with straight A’s in my classes, and (much more importantly, of course) I broke 300k in fiction, making this my second most productive year in that regard since, well, the entirety of my amatuer career. Finished up at around 316… could have pushed it past 20, but I decided to simply rest and reassess.

I recieved a Kindle from my father for Christmas, and it has proved to be possibly the best gift in years. I no longer have the space for even a portion of my 1500+ library; the kindle (and the loads of free primary text/literature available on the net) fixes that nagging problem. More importantly, I’ve experimented with uploading my own books on the device and it has proved very effective in seeing my work in a new format — breaking the “tyranny of the white page” as I described it to a friend. My editing exercises this year will be very-much enhanced…

I realize all the time how lucky I am. My friend in the corporate world recieved monday off–only monday–while here I enjoyed two entire weeks to spend with the daughter and the wife. While there are stressful and annoying components to the teacher profession, overall methinks many “bitch too much”, given the perks.

Resolutions:

1) Writing: complete The Book of Mirrors, Until the End of the World, The Lash, and work on Blurb and The Subtle Wound. Perhaps start 2nd DF or 2nd Nexus.

2) Find a job for the fall that combines the “best of the both worlds” – location and occupation.

3) Complete my masters degree requirements and ace the test

4) More consistant exercise program coupled with reduction in caffiene intake (1-2 cups of green tea in the morning, total)

11. future labor

Now that I’ve finished the piece that consumed the majority of the last two and a half months, I’m already shifting my attention to the next on the laundry-list…

Book of Mirrors – currently 26,000 out of projected 75,000

Until the End of the World – currently 22,000 out of projected 65,000

The Lash – currently 13,000 out of projected 140,000

Blurb and Blather – currently 5,000 out of projected 80,000

The Subtle Wound – currently 2,500 out of projected 225,000

… And that’s about the order I plan on addressing it in. It’s curious; I experienced the usual glee and relief today after completing The Circle, even though I’ve a couple serious editing sessions ahead this next month with a potential 2-3,000 to include — shaping and sharpening the rants, and including a handful of scenes forgotten or neglected in the course of the work. When I finished Songs of Iron back in September, I felt nothing but fatigue… and that puppy had lingered for nearly 8 years. I should have felt some joy at completing the 265,000 word current draft. I attribute the lack to two factors: one, general exhaustion at writing fiction, and two, the fact that it was a compilation of short fiction/novellas, so that it didn’t carry quite the weight of a unified project reaching consensus/climax/completion, irregardless of the inner relationship of the various stories. I was actually worried that I’d lost something, feeling merely the relief and not the manic pleasure (that did come later, though…) — happily, such was not the case today. In fact, this work sings, it stings, and boy did I dish the dirt. Just thinking about it makes me want to prowl about outside and howl and the cloud-hidden moon.

ANYWAY … I’ve lots of labor ahead. I’m looking forward to knocking off the first three by May/June.

(oh, and I broke 300k for this year yesterday… )