10 Ways to Have a More “Interesting” Convention Experience
Filed Under: Speculative Fiction, Writing Advice
I am not attending WorldCon (AKA Anticipation) this year. Last year was great, and I met a lot of really interesting new people, and got to meet some people in the flesh for the first time like John Joseph Adams (whose collection The Living Dead was nominated for a World Fantasy Award this week! Congratulations are in order). Why am I not going? Well, there’s the financial reasons of course, but there’s also a little dispute I had with the Canadian Border Control back in 1986 involving the illegal importation of furry porn. I’m not allowed to talk about it, but suffice to say, I can only travel to Canada under pseudonyms such as Harrison T. Merriweather. And now I can’t use that one. Canada’s agents are everywhere.
It’s rather too easy for the seasoned con veteran to end up in a bit of a rut when it comes to cons. “Find a seat in the bar and leave only for your panels” seems to be the writer/editor/publisher’s way. I think they sometimes actually take in food in a solid form over the course of the convention, but I have no evidence of this.
I’ve decided, as a service to the convention goer, to provide this helpful list of activities you can participate in to make your convention-going experience that much more interesting.
- In a very public space, ask Gord Sellar to imitate his Quebec-born mother. (The resulting mob will give you all the exercise you need for the week).
- Dress up as a polyp and jump out at Jay Lake every time you see him, yelling “Boo!”
- Squeeze Harlan Ellison’s boob.
- Walk up to Tempest, and whisper, in a nervous voice. “I see black people.”
- Go to a Gordon van Gelder panel and stand up to ask a question. Congratulate him on finally breaking down and accepting electronic submissions and start a standing ovation. Then flee. (Also, scratch F&SF off your submissions list)
- Treat everyone in cosplay as you would treat their actual character. Run in terror from stormtroopers. Try to rescue Slave Girl Leia. Laugh and point at Klingons.
- Ask Ted Chiang to tell you about the cover of his collection. (Only do this if you have 4 hours of time you need to kill).
- Find Cory Doctorow. Secretly replace his iPod with a Zune.
- Dress up as the ghost of Robert Heinlein and demand royalties from John Scalzi all weekend.
- When they announce the John W. Campbell Award for best new writer, race to the podium, snatch the award, and smuggle it home to ME.
Anyone else have any ideas to make those lucky folks attending WorldCon have a more “fun” time?
On Richness
Filed Under: My Writing, Writing Process, creativity
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?
Keeping an Ideas File
Filed Under: My Writing, Writing Advice, creativity
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.
Revising Short Fiction is for Suckers
Filed Under: SF Business, Writing Advice
I’ve heard a lot of different opinions on the subject of revision over the years. The one that has stuck with me was the opinion of, I think it was Heinlein. This author wrote one draft, dropped it in the mail, and never looked back. I don’t know what his reasons for this were, but I know what a modern writer’s reasons would be, especially when it comes to short fiction.
It’s all about time management and cost/benefit analysis. Because stories are purchased not based on the time it took to write them but how many words they contain, the actual hourly wage you make varies depending on how much time you spend on a story. And the more time you spend, the less money you’re making.
For example, I generally write first drafts at a speed of 1000-2000 words an hour. At a moderately decent payrate of 5 cents a word, that puts me at $50 an hour, if I were to sell my first draft. That’s a very nice hourly wage. Each draft you do, and each hour you spend reworking your draft, is reducing your potential hourly income. Spend as much time revising as you did writing the story, and now you’ve cut your hourly in half. Spend three times as long revising the story as you did writing it and now we’re talking working at McDonalds wages. I guess it’s better than digging ditches.
However, I personally am not a writer who can churn out a sellable first draft. I find the story in revision, much like Pixar does. Partly this is because I often start writing a story before the idea has fully fermented. Partly this is because I write so fast when I am on the first draft that I miss good opportunities. It’s only in subsequent drafts that I can tweak the machinery of story into a form that actually runs.
When I first started out writing, I was with Heinlein all the way. One draft, and be done with it. And I sold a couple. I also never sold dozens. When you think about it, was that really making me any more money as a writer? Almost certainly not. It’s probably a wash, if I sat down to figure it out.
These days, I not only redraft and redraft, I also sit on stories for months or years. Yesterday, I broke out a story that I wrote almost 2 years ago and began revising. It’s probably now on draft 5 or 6. And it’s most likely still not there.
These days, I’m much more concerned with making money from my writing than I was before. That’s because I have no regular source of income. So I’m looking at the Heinlein way again. It’s wishful thinking though. I’m not a first draft writer, and that’s okay. Even if my hourly wage works out to be something akin to minimum wage, it’s still better work than just about any job that actually pays minimum wage. Unless that job has health insurance.
What’s your approach to revising? What’s the longest you’ve ever tinkered with a piece before sending it out?
