Posts Tagged ‘My Writing’
Labeling Oneself as an Artist and Why I Have Avoided It
Filed Under: creativity, personal
I’ve strongly resisted the label of artist for a long time, because I don’t feel worthy of it, on the one hand, and on the other hand, to avoid the negative connotations that are entwined with the label in my backwards, redneck brain.
Who is an artist? (the ingrained notions)
Here’s what I grew up thinking of artists–not actively thinking or deliberately deciding to believe, but just absorbing in Kansas/Midwestern culture.
Artists are people who do not have real jobs. They are as likely to spend their time drinking absinthe, doing drugs, and sleeping around as they are to do anything honest and deserving of compensation. Artists do not contribute to the growth and welfare of society in meaningful ways. They are probably not very smart, because if they were smart, they would have gone into a profession like engineering or medicine where they could actually do some good and make real money to support their families. Artists, above all else, are irresponsible, childish, and poor. POOR!
Conversely, artists are talented (even if that talent isn’t valued very highly). They can draw anything they can imagine effortlessly. Their imaginations are superior to almost anyone elses’s. They speak a secret language of color and form, and really, if you want to rearrange your living room and get some new curtains, an artist would not be a bad person to ask. They’ll probably help for beer money.
Why I am not an Artist (the rationalizations)
I’m creative, sure. I do a bit of writing, but writing isn’t art, because art is visual, and writing is language. And yes, I know how to operate a camera, but artwork should convey emotions, tell a story, and my photography doesn’t convey any such thing. Anyone can pick up a camera and point it at something. Anyone can take enough shots, throwing out the bad, to make themselves look like a moderately decent photographer.
I’m a web designer, but design is not art. Design is communication, and it has strict rules (rules that I struggle every day to learn and understand better). And anyway, I primarily excel at writing code and solving technical problems, less so than making things beautiful and artistic.
Despite my ingrained beliefs about artists as professionals, I grew up secretly wishing I could be some kind of science artist, but I wouldn’t ever really because I wanted to contribute and make money. And finally, for some reason, I cannot ever be an artist because I cannot draw anything that I picture in my head.
Why I am an Artist (the realization)
First of all, most of the bullshit I grew up believing about artists is just that–bullshit. Artists are as intelligent as anyone else, if not more so,as responsible, and they are no more likely to drink heavily and do drugs than anyone else. They contribute to society in less quantifiable ways than say, an engineer, but they act in a way as society’s conscience, as it’s outlet. As a means of self-reflection. Artists play a role, and while I don’t quite understand that role, I know they have one and it’s deeply important. Being an artist is a real job, and has all the baggage that jobs have. It’s also really, really hard to make a living at.
Being any good does not determine whether one is an artist or not. And art encompasses many more skills than just drawing. My photography may be something anyone can do, but every once and a while I make something nobody else but me could make. I’m actively trying to sell prints of my work actively, so I guess that right there makes me an artist in the same way that actively pursuing publication made me a writer.
Design may or may not be art, but I’m a working creative individual. Sometimes, what I create is art. Sometimes, it’s crap. Well, more often than not. But I share more in common with working illustrators and painters now than I do with my friends who spend their days slicing DNA in laboratories.
So, yeah. I am an artist. Whatever that means–I’m still learning. It’s not all that I am, but I’m done not calling myself that just because I can’t draw and I grew up believing some kind of dumb things about who writers are. My life is centered around creative acts of one form or another, so. There it is.
Have any of you ever resisted labeling yourself like that, for similar mixtures of reasons? I’m curious to know if this is difficult just for me, or if it is for others.
PS: I keep trying to fix that drawing thing. I’ve been stuck in the first couple of chapters of “Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain” for a couple of years. Maybe this year will be the one that I finally get past the weird tracing stuff and start learning how to stop myself from drawing on the left side of the brain.
A New Blog Project: Project Game Writer
Filed Under: My Writing, creativity
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?
- I have a proven track record as a writer with my short story materials, as well as the Dr. Roundbottom project.
- As a web designer, I’m used to working creatively in a collaborative environment. The transition to being part of a team in writing will be an easy one for me. I will be your word monkey.
- I have experience writing for voice acting and directing voice actors both through Escape Pod and Dr. Roundbottom.
- I am technically skilled and can write code, so when it comes to hooking dialogue up to a game with in-house editing tools, I can pick that up quite quickly and easily. I built several modules for my own entertainment with the Neverwinter Nights tool set, so I’ve already had some experience here.
- My writing often has a strong sense of voice, which is important for many types of game writing.
- I love video games, and games of all sorts.
And why do I even want to break into the video games industry as a writer?
- I enjoy working collaboratively with others on larger projects.
- The pay per word is generally much better than straight fiction writing.
- The audience is there. Top games sell millions of copies. I’m not going to be able to play in front of an audience that size with short fiction.
- I love writing.
- I love video games, and games of all sorts.
But there are some potential downsides to the video game industry for me:
- Long crunch hours could sap my will to live if I’m not prepared for them.
- The pay may be more than fiction writing, but it seems often less than web design (at least at this stage).
- Am I really prepared to write My Gorgeous Pony: The Magical Adventures II?
- Not entirely sure I have the full range of writing talents to make it. I need to learn how well I can switch genres to genres that I don’t normally write for.
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.
BREAKING: F&SF’s Gordon Van Gelder Does Not Want to Drink The Blood of Your Children
Filed Under: SF Business, Speculative Fiction
Last week, we had a lovely mini-controversy over the poorly announced intentions of the Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction to launch a workshop for newer writers run by Gardner Dozois.
The details that we were able to gather were:
- The workshop will be online.
- The workshop will be limited at first to around 100 writers.
- Gardner will be able to choose up to 3 stories a year from the workshop submissions to appear in F&SF.
The details that we do not know:
- When will the workshop launch?
- How much will it cost?
- How much face-time will you get with the workshop admin with 99 other students?
The issues that weren’t clear to some:
- Whether or not Gordon would pay for the stories that come from the workshop like any other story
- Whether the cost of joining the workshop would in fact include the price of the soul of your first-born child?
- Whether this is a violation of Yog’s Law, in which money flows from the writer to the publisher? (“money flows to the writer”)
The controversy to me was exactly the same as Amazon’s screw-up a few weeks back regarding the database and adult/gay content being removed from listings. It boiled down to this: poor information control and release. It was a PR fubar.
Perhaps I assumed the bes in that workshoppers selected for the publication would be paid just like any new writer, that Gordon was not planning to sell my unborn children into slavery to the Mi Go and that Yog’s Law was perhaps simply bent, but not in a way that was unprecedented. Ultimately, I shouldn’t have to assume, nor should anyone else. Once again, the issue is that, in the absence of real information, the internet will invent a controversy. WhateverFails are spontaneously generating everywhere on the web because a rumor has gotten out of hand and real information has not stepped into to fill the void.
What could F&SF Done Differently?
Gordon and his staff probably should have acted quickly to correct any misinformation being spread (and to their credit, they did so, but I don’t think they did it comprehensively enough). He should have issued a full press release in the first place, outlining every detail of the project, from cost, to duration to “here’s the websites, go sign up.” The first anyone should have heard of this project should have been when every detail was sorted out and ready to go. If you are vague on any aspect, it just gives people an opportunity to see boggarts where there probably aren’t any.
Information about this seemed to leak via hearsay on one blog, and the controversy built rapidly in this infovoid. Damage control would have been to immediately release all information. Unfortunately, I think not every aspect of the project as nailed down, so it seemed that they were rushed to release what they knew so far, which wasn’t and as far as I know, still isn’t everything. I put my name on the list of interested parties and I look forward to learning more.
In general, I think F&SF needs to control its online public relations better (I imagine Gordon might think ‘great, yet another new job I don’t need and didn’t sign up for.’ Sorry, man. ). The problem is, and justifiably so, they see relating with the public online to be an antagonistic thing. n this posts, I am careful not to say ‘Gordon should do…” which is way too easy with F&SF. I’m trying to say “the organization should do…” Because I know F&SF has a team of people, primarily driven by Gordon. Being the only editor-owned magazine of the Big Three in the field, its easy to place the blame or put a face to any perceived problem with the ‘zine. Gordon, for better and for worse, is F&SF in the public eye. You can’t necessarily do that with the Dell Magazines. Their editors generally aren’t making the business decisions. So the criticisms of F&SF often come across as too personal.
That’s unfortunate. F&SF is a good magazine and Gordon is a great editor. The organization needs to reset their interactions with the online world entirely, and designing a good PR plan would be a nice place to start, in my opinion. I have some ideas of how to go about that which I will go into in more detail at a later date.
What Could We the Public Done Differently?
We should be better at realizing when we have partial information and we should be less eager to jump to conclusions based on that partial information. Perhaps our first instinct should not be to write a blog post or to start a comment thread on a forum. Perhaps, when we have suspicions or are considering casting aspersions, we should contact the parties involved over email or phone and ask our questions. If we don’t get satisfying answers, then maybe that is the time to scream from the rooftops. Also, apply some common sense. What in Gordon or Gardner’s long career would ever make you think they weren’t going to pay writers? Yes, it’s important to make sure you get paid as a writer–but these guys are NOT the enemy. I have disagreed with Gordon on matters electronic in the past, but I know that he is a consummate professional.
This latest controversy is made up of mistakes on both sides. The burden of providing clear, accurate, and complete information rests with the publisher/project runners. The burden of the rest of us is to not jump to assumptions without asking questions first when we receive only partial information.
This Week’s Editoral Advice: Do Not Reply to Rejection Letters
Filed Under: SF Business, SF Podcasting, Writing Advice
This is still happening from time to time with my work for Escape Pod. I had kind of thought by now that arguing with an editor over their comments in a rejection letter was commonly considered a bad idea to be avoided at all costs, but I’m still getting these at Escape Pod. Let me put it to you all straight.
Nothing makes me more disinclined to purchase your work than you arguing with me about me not buying a story.
There are a lot of minor mistakes you can make as a slush writer. I overlook most of them. For instance, we get sent things as attachments when our guidelines call for them to be in the body of an email. I might mention it briefly to the submitter, but I don’t hold it against them much. There are so many differing e-submissions systems that I can understand why this happens. No big deal.
But when you decide to quibble with an editor over the points of his or her rejection letter, you’re crossing a professional line. You are entitled to your opinion. It’s a good thing if you have enough faith in your story that you will continue to send it out, because one editor’s opinion doesn’t amount to much, which is why I say my editorial comments are not intended as writing advice.
The main thing it will lead to is an editor not providing you any detailed feedback at all. We will simply write form rejections for your work from then on out. Because nothing is more annoying to me, at least, than someone deciding to bicker over a rejection. It’s not going to change our minds. It’s only going to make you look worse. So we’ll stop giving you points to quibble with. This is not good for you. We don’t want to do this.
It is a no-win situation for the writer.
So just don’t do it. Stick to creating your editor voodoo dolls and slagging us off to your cats. Take out your frustrations another way, even if the editor is dead wrong. It doesn’t matter.
And another thing– I would rather not see replies, even short thank yous, at all. It clutters up my inbox, which I work very hard to keep organized, and your continuing submissions with us is thanks enough. Tack what you want to say on to the cover letter of your next submission. I would prefer that.
Also, Machine Gun Submissions
Oh, and finally, one last thing– it does you no good to send me story after story after story when I’m reading them quickly, when you get rejected every time. You should cool it and wait a bit between submissions. Probably want to wait and let me forget about how I rejected 3 stories in an hour. Because I do notice, and I know other editors do too, especially with e-submissions at ‘zines with relatively fast turnaround times. Nick Mamatas even had a submissions limit. I’m considering implementing one if this keeps up. At the very least, you’ll stop getting such rapid replies.
