There’s a new, excellently-read podcast of my short story “Captain Blood’s B00ty” story over on Starship Sofa today. Give it a listen and let me know what you think.
This story previously appeared in the Shimmer pirate issue, edited by John Joseph Adams.
I’m sorry things have been so quiet around here lately. I just don’t have much to say right now. Soon though.
My “pays the rent” freelance project load is such that I’m going to have to hold off on my “pipe dreams of the video game industry” project right now. I’m going to shoot to start it up in November now (although I’ll be squeezing reading in anywhere I can). It’s embarrassing to have made that post on Monday and by Wednesday have to change my schedule and plans, but as always, my first priority is paying the rent. I always seem to think there’s more time in the day than there really is. I should probably be working more on my time management skills (which really aren’t bad) before I should be working on my game writing skills. Anyway, more to the point, I’m not seeing a lot of work coming down the pipe right now, so I need to hustle some up. If you’ve been thinking about hiring me to build a website, now’s a good time.
In writing-related news, my story in Interzone issue 224 (on newsstands and in bookstores now!), “Godfalls’s Chemsong,” received a very nice review from John DeNardo over at SF Signal. I’ll take 4 out of 5 stars any day. The story is an experiment of mine to create bizzare alien biology and society using mostly real Earth biology traits that exist in real creatures. I only improvised a little bit, and I’m pleased with the results. I really should write more stories like that, but they’re a bear to come up with. But I guess if it were easy, everybody would be doing it.
After attending the Game Developer’s Conference Writer Summit in Austin a couple of weeks ago, I have been increasingly determined to make a slow career shift from web-related work to the video game industry and writing. I’m not going to stop building websites yet. But I want to start writing in the field.
I’ve been thinking about the pluses and minuses for myself, and I’ve made some lists to examine my interest.4
First, why do I think I could break into the video game industry as a writer and be good at it?
And why do I even want to break into the video games industry as a writer?
But there are some potential downsides to the video game industry for me:
With all that in mind, I’ve purchased a couple of books on the industry, and they include chapter exercises. As part of my process of exploration, I’m going to post the exercises and my attempts at them. I plan to do 2 chapters of the Professional Techniques for Video Game Writing book a week, but I may shrink some of the projects in size or skip the larger ones that would take a considerable amount of time. You’re all welcome to play along at home with your own copies, and comment on what I do. Or you can just ignore it entirely–that’s cool too.
At the very least, I hope you’ll keep me working on it and poke me if I don’t keep on the project. Wish me luck. I’m going to need some of it in addition to talents I’ve yet to develop. But it’s an exciting prospect, and one I look forward to exploring.
Did you know that I sometimes appear on podcasts? Check me out, I’m on the internets!
This week’s Sofanauts features Tony C. Smith (the Sherlock to my Moriarty), Matthew Sanborn Smith (the hairy mango to my kumquat), and myself (the toad to my wet sprocket). We wish Joe Haldeman well, discuss the ridiculousness that was the Highlander franchise, learn that Tony doesn’t know who Ralph Nader is, and I temporarily put Ray Bradbury in the same category as Shakespeare.
Then we have some of my fiction over at the fantastically weird Drabblecast. Norm has produced one of my earliest stories, “Storm Comes A’Callin,” and turned out a piece with music and singing that only he could do in the genre podcasting world. If you like the blues or thunderstorms, this is the podcast for you. Or if you just like absolutely amazing podcast production. Seriously, you have got to listen to this.
In other news, the job in Vermont didn’t work out, so I continue my quest to be the most badass genre-related web designer I can. By night, writing up a storm of short stories, and feeling like I’m really starting to get it. I’m also taking serious steps towards getting involved in writing for video games, after several years of thinking about it and never bothering to learn a thing about how the field works.
Finally, fall is hitting, which means the elk rut is upon us. I’m thinking a 4 AM drive to Estes Park on Monday is called for, camera gear at the ready. I haven’t put my new camera bag to a field test yet. Bull elk beating the crap out of one another should do nicely. If all goes well, expect to see some fantastic photos next week.
The guests this week are Jeff VanderMeer, Amy H. Sturgis, and of course the sofa is piloted by Captain Tony C. Smith. Oh, and this guy writing this post. This week, we talk about the conference in Austin, cover art, and I lose my shit entirely about the new “Hitchhiker’s Guide” book (those are scare quotes). If you enjoy me ranting like a rabid dog, this is an episode for you.
I hope to write up a post about the amazing time I had at the Austin Game Writers Summit when I have had a better chance to digest the experience. I’m dipping down into that post-con low today. It’s hard to go from being super-social and hanging out with amazing people to being back at your computer alone with nobody but your cats for company (Sarah’s putting on a show, which I get to go see tomorrow).
I’ll be turning around and flying out to Vermont on Monday to meet the fine folks at Chelsea Green, a publishing company that specializes in books on sustainability and green living. It’ll be a whirlwind trip of meetings and driving in a place where I have never been. I’m less anxious about the job interview than I am about the driving in Boston.
So what did I miss this week? Anything cool happen with you folks?
I recently received a rewrite request for a story I had submitted. Over my time as a writer, I’ve received rewrite requests that I’ve accepted, and rewrite requests I have turned down–for a lot of different reasons. I realized that my thinking that goes into the decision of whether or not to do so is somewhat complex, and I got to wondering if it was something that a flowchart could describe. After a little bit of playing around this morning, I have created just such a flowchart.
Click on the thumbnail image to view the full size chart. Did I miss any steps that you would have considered? Do you think I am insane for drawing up a flowchart for something like this? Share your thoughts in the comments.
I have a very rocky relationship with my subconscious.
On the one hand, my subconscious is the font of my best ideas. Even when I writing something that has come mostly from ego-brain thinking, it inserts cool things, catches ideas that I missed the first time around. It’s sometimes like having a better writer sitting on your shoulder catching your missed opportunities.
On the other hand, my subconscious’s interests are not always marketable interests. My subconscious feeds me stories about Kansas about once a week. The state needs to start writing me checks for the PR. Lord knows they need a positive face what with all the wackos that populate my home state. So I write a lot of stories about Kansas or set in Kansas. I’ve yet to find a market for that stuff, and I doubt anyone wants to read about it. And yet my subconscious persists. I’m wrestling with Potatohead (that’s what I call my subconscious) right now about a story that involves mole men and Kansas. Excited to read that one? Yeah, didn’t think so. I keep telling him, we need postsingularity stories that use the entire galaxy as their setting. We need fantasy stories that take place in the New York subway system. What does he feed me? A story about a woman whose abusive dead husband comes back made out of potatoes after being buried int he garden.
Yeah, I actually wrote that one. The rejection Nick gave it at Clarkesworld was enough to put me off writing for a year. Not one you’ll probably ever read. There are a lot of these.
On rare occasions, one of us presents an idea that the other finds just as fascinating. My story “The Yeti Behind Me” is a good example. The idea of ghosts of extinct animals popped up in conversation. I felt the indication of Potatohead’s interest in the form of an explosion just behind my right eye. Potatohead is not subtle. But if we agree on something straight away, I know it’s got legs.
Problem has been, lately, I have stopped trusting Potatohead. He’s fixated on the same things much of the time. He’s not giving me ideas that I can get excited about. And vice versa. I spend all day thinking of story ideas and asking “Hey, Potatohead, what do you think of this one?” His response is generally a resounding “meh.”
I feel like the two parts of my brain are at war lately Each one knows something useful about writing, but they are not agreeing on things nearly often enough for me to feel like I’m moving forward with my “career.” I can write stories based primarily on the input of one half, but those stories are flat, and aren’t going to take me anywhere.
There’s one other, unrelated thing about Potatohead that ticks me off. When I’m asleep, people can talk directly to Potatohead. I have had long and varied conversations in my sleep that I conciously have no recollection of. The thing that gets me into trouble is, Potatohead doesn’t know that I/we are married.
Sarah has come to bed late on several occasions, only to see me shoot upright in bed and demand “Who is that?”
“It’s me,” she says.
“Me WHO?” Potatohead asks.
“Sarah,” she says, beginning to be a bit more exasperated.
“Sarah WHO?”
And that’s the last straw. “Your WIFE,” she snaps. “Go back to sleep.”
“Oh. Okay,” says Potatohead and down he goes back to where he came. And the only indicator I have that this conversation ever happened is that my wife is pissed at me all morning for no apparent reason.
How does one force his or her two minds to sit down and come to some kind of amicable agreement? We have crap that needs to get worked out if we are going to continue to make a career of working together. This partnership is turning sour, and I need to straighten things out quickly. I also need to get it through Potatohead’s half-brain that asking “Sarah WHO?” is not a good thing for either of us. If anyone has any suggestions, I’d love to hear them.
Lately, I’ve been trying to identify where my writing really differs from the stuff that’s great, great writing. There are a hell of a lot of places, but I’ve fixated for a while now on this concept of richness.
The stories that *really* blow me away exude information and confidence. They are full of a richness of detail that is boggling. Telling details show up in nearly every sentence. The entire story works to convince you of this place, these characters, these events.
A great example of a story with amazing richness was David Moles’ “Finnisterra.” I think China Mieville’s novels demonstrate it pretty well too. I see it in many of the stories I have read by Gord Sellar as well. Basically, I see richness as one of the defining qualities of award-winning writing.
The rich telling details are rarely fabricated whole cloth. They’re believable because they draw from some real world knowledge. David uses multiple languages and cultures effortlessly because he knows them intimately. China writes about cities because he dwells in them completely. London is not so different from his fantastical cities. And Gord is so immersed in Korean culture it can’t help but ooze onto the page in a totally engaging way.
I struggle with richness in particular because I’m not sure there’s any way to learn richness other than to immerse yourself in a subject like they do. I think the reason many new writers work fall flat for me is because the only thing they are immersing themselves in is writing and SF/F. The mark of someone who really wants to get out there seems to be someone who takes passion for something else and really drives that home in a story.
There may be veins of richness to tap into from my life, but I’m not sure. It leaves me wishing I could pack up and do some foreign travel for six months all while reading travelogues and history books. I feel like I just don’t have enough packed into my brain that isn’t about computers and web design that can be used to enrich my work.
So that’s the next big thing I’m working on in improving my writing. What’s yours?
When I first started writing seriously, I kept a little text file on my desktop where I would rapidly jot down ideas for the premises of stories. Eventually, this turned into a notebook that I tried and failed to carry around. Then it turned into a collection of random documents on Google Docs. It’s current incarnation is a folder on my EverNote account.
With evernote, I can record voice notes, type ideas in on the computer or my phone, include photos, and more. Pretty much anything I want to remember and have accessible from anywhere, I throw into Evernote these days, and that includes story ideas.
But I wanted to talk about the importance of capturing more than just the premise for stories. I’ve started trying to capture any kind of fascinating tidbit that I think might be useful at some point. When I see a person with a trait that I think would make an interesting concept for a character, I put it in. Collect everything, because I am finding that when inspiration is running a little low, these notes can be the kernel of creative energy I need to steamroll through a project.
I also carry around a flexible-cover Moleskine notebook, and I do jot down story ideas in here, but I also use that for website thumbnail sketches, doodles, and more. Because I do all my writing on a computer, it works very well for me to have this central, searchable tool for my random bits of ideas.
Somtimes, writing a story is like playing Katamari Damacy. You just keep rolling the sticky ball of your brain around until it accumulates enough junk to let you go to the next level.
Fresh off my appearance from last week, I have another appearance on Drabbelcast. It’s another story from the Daily Cabal, a short tale of cretaceous ocean ghosts. I keep returning to that well, just like I keep returning to gigantapithicus. Some things loom large in my imagiation I guess.
I just glanced through the comments on last week. It’s the usual mix of complimentary and less than complimentary. One particular bit that would normally upset me but has only left me amused is “dull.” It finally sinks in for once that it’s just one (or maybe a couple) people’s opinions. The editor didn’t think it was dull, and that’s pretty much all I care now! Financial necessity really hardens you to public opinion.
The trifecta also includes two other good stories:
Aqua Vita by Stephanie Campisi
Jake and the Carpet Sharks by Michelle Howarth
My story “Groob’s Stupid Grubs,” a story of a goblin’s hopes for his idiot children, is available in Black Gate 15.
I recently finished the first draft of a YA novel called Takedown Notice set in the net-mage universe of my stories “Captain Blood’s B00ty” and “One Click Banishment.” What happens when the Magical Association of Atlantis finally gets the upper hand against the net mages in the spell program copyfight?