Happy New Year, everyone! I’m finally starting to recover from the holidays. The books from the Goodreads giveaway I did in December are in the mail, my narrator is about halfway through the audiobook of Threads of Fate, and I’m over 80k words into my manuscript for Twilight Rain!
If you haven’t already, you can find me on Instagram, Facebook, and Goodreads, too! I’m trying to be better about my social media activity and hope to start producing more regular content in 2024.
Recently on Instagram, I came across a post by a young author asking, “How do you deal with criticism on your book?”
As one of the great many creators in the age of the internet who struggles with low self-esteem and chronic Imposter Syndrome, this question hit home fairly soundly. No one likes to be criticized, least of all a creator who is pouring their soul into a work that makes them feel personally vulnerable. And let’s face it. No matter who you are or what you do, there will always be critics.
“To write is to be vulnerable,” I have told other writers before. “‘What if they don’t like my writing?’ is synonymous with, ‘What if they don’t like me?'”
With that in mind, how do I deal with criticism?
My First Real Critic
For me, it all started in college.
I’ve written on this blog before that I began writing fairly early in life. It’s rather ironic, actually, considering the number of issues I have historically had with poor attention span, dyslexia, and abhorrent spelling. (My journal from when I was 10 years old probably requires a degree in paleography just to guess at what I was trying to get across.)
Writing became my therapy after my parents separated, and I dissociated into my realms of fantasy. My writing improved drastically, and before long I found myself excelling in an area that most of my peers continued to struggle with. Whether it was that I truly was better at writing than my peers, or people were just eager to praise my potential, or because it was simply uncommon for someone so young to write so much, I faced little to no criticism of my work through grade school and high school. On the contrary, I was quite certain that I was every bit as good as my favorite authors. It’s the reason I began self-publishing when I was 15. I sincerely thought I was that good.
Fast forward to college. I had the privilege of studying under a traditionally published author, and I was so excited to share my work with him. I believe it was my first semester there when I asked him to read the trilogy I had written in high school and give me feedback on it, thinking, “I’m pretty good, but there’s always room for improvement, right?”
Room for improvement, indeed!
A few days later, my mentor returned the trilogy to me with two 8.5 x 11 pieces of paper full of generalized critiques and maybe a sentence of positive feedback.
He hadn’t even made it through the first book in the trilogy.
To say I was devastated would have been the understatement of the year. I went home, stuck the book and my professor’s notes in a corner, and cried myself to sleep. I thought, “If my best is that bad, how can I ever be a writer?”
Other than classwork, I don’t think I did much writing the rest of that semester. Even thinking about it made me depressed.
But as is often the case when you truly have a passion for something, I couldn’t stay away from writing for long. By the next semester, I was going back over that long list of generalized critiques, mentally processing what was written and learning where I could.
I published my experimental retro fantasy novel Prism World in 2013, and then I even managed to do a full rewrite of the first book of my high school trilogy, The Four Stars in 2015.
I am proud to say that my mentor actually made it through the first book the second time around. And I genuinely feel I am a better writer for having a critic in my life.
Critics vs. Bullies
I want to point out something extremely important when it comes to facing criticism in one’s work. There is a major difference between people who are genuinely offering feedback and those who are being mean just to be mean, and you can start by asking yourself this one key question: “Is this criticism directed at how I wrote my book, or is it a criticism of me as a person?”
The two are not the same.
John Updike once said, “Contrary to popular impression, writers, unlike pole vaulters, do not know when they have done their best.”
Writing is more than just information on a page. Authentic writing is when a person (the writer) decides to take up one of the most vulnerable pursuits a human can ever participate in and share a part of their own lives with the wider world, exposing themselves both to the possibility of connection and of censure.
When a critic makes a statement about a writer’s work, it opens up an opportunity for the writer to improve on their craft if they so wish, specifically because it offers the writer a glimpse into someone else’s world, how they think and, as Stephen King puts it in his book On Writing, “adds another tool to your toolbox.”
When someone makes a statement about the writer themselves, however, it is not a “tool in the toolbox” for the writer. None of us will ever walk in another person’s shoes, and most if not all of these sorts of critics (“bullies,” I call them) are unlikely to ever meet the person they try to tear apart, much less learn about their world or life experiences. These responses are like looking at a handful of pixels in a 4k picture and criticizing the entire piece based on them. It’s short-sighted and narrow-minded and, ultimately, lacks any sort of value. It adds nothing to the world.
Some Encouraging Remarks
For all of us who struggle with our fears of criticism and rejection, it’s important to remember that we aren’t alone. Ask any New York Times bestselling author (or read their biographies, if they have them) and you will quickly get to see that even the best writers in the history of writing have had their critics and their bullies. That doesn’t magically make them bad writers. It just means they were and are every bit as human as the rest of us. And for me, at least, that is an encouraging thing to remember.
I have a few phrases I tell myself whenever I’m starting to feel overwhelmed by criticism and/or self-doubt. Hopefully something on this list will help you, too.
“You’re still learning. Every word you write is an opportunity to improve.”
“The mistakes of today do not have to define the progress of tomorrow.”
“No one will live your life or see your journey. The negativity is just an outsider peering through the keyhole and claiming they see the whole house.”
“You write because your soul needs to. Anyone who enjoys it with you is just an added blessing. Don’t give anyone the power to steal your joy.”
In Conclusion
Something to remember is that for anything you are passionate about and work to improve on, your best today will never be your best tomorrow. And that’s OK. Often we worry about critics, but if you’re anything like me, you might want to stop and consider that you might be your own worst critic. I know I am mine.
So when the criticism comes, learn from what is constructive, ignore the bullies, and keep trying!
Side note: Has anyone reading this blog experienced criticism that made an impact on them? Was it constructive or destructive, and how did you handle it?
I started this blog back when I was in college, mostly as part of an assignment, and along with it began my official journey into the world of writing. I was introduced to National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) in 2011 and was fascinated by the idea of writing a whole novel in a single month. Turns out, NaNoWriMo is not for the faint of heart, and so for the last twelve years I have tried (and failed) to get anywhere close to the 50,000-word mark.
I’ve mentioned in other posts my struggles with depression and the impact it had on my writing, especially over the last eight years. Tabletop roleplaying games (TTRPGS) and the support of some absolutely phenomenal friends and family have gotten me to where I am today, and so it is with a truly inexpressible amount of excitement that I am proud to announce that I have, for the first time in twelve years of trying, completed NaNoWriMo!
For anyone who has read my collection of short stories Threads of Fate, published earlier this year, you may have noticed that I did what I typically like to do at the ends of my books: I threw in a teaser for what I was working on next. That teaser picked up where the last short story left off, following the character of the aspiring elvin archaeologist and mage, Aeva.
The book, titled Twilight Rain, starts on the elvin continent of Parras and will be the first of a set of two under the umbrella name The Bladedancer. Twilight Rain sets up some major events that will eventually lead back to the location around which the Threads of Fate short stories are set, the “Isle of the Gods” called Aurora.
As of writing this post, I am just over 62k words in and still going. I expect to have another ten or so chapters to complete before my first draft is done, but I’m already really loving what I’ve got going and, as such, have taken the plunge to pay an actual artist to do the cover art. I did the cover art for Threads of Fate myself and feel like it was a decent job, but nothing beats a professional.
And speaking of professionals…
When I was a kid, my dream was always to be a writer. Nothing speaks to my soul the way writing does. The problem was that the world kept telling me that writing was a “hobby,” that making a living off writing was as likely as winning the lottery. There’s a lot of talk about luck, and certainly it plays a role, but some of it is just plain old commitment, with a healthy dose of support from family and friends mixed in.
When I first published Threads of Fate, I wasn’t in a good place to pay the fees to host a Goodreads giveaway, so I took a few spare copies to some of my favorite places around town, including a local library. Being an independent publisher and little-known, I wasn’t expecting too much out of it, but I have always felt that if I can bring joy to even one other person’s life with my writing, it’s absolutely worth the work and resources I put in. You can imagine my surprise, then, when I received a message from someone associated with the library telling me that a colleague really enjoyed my book and asking if I would be interested in a speaking engagement in February.
Absolutely!
This year has been…rocky…at best, but that message alone reminded me of how much I still have to celebrate as we bring 2023 to a close. And with that, here are some of the exciting things I’ve got going as we head into the new year.
Official Website – For those who have been following my blog for a while, you may have noticed a change in the URL. That’s right! This is now an official website!
Goodreads Giveaway – There is FINALLY a Goodreads Giveaway going for Threads of Fate. I’ve got 10 copies on the way that will be signed before going to the giveaway winners. New to my work and not sure how much you want to invest? This is the time to give it a shot!
Threads of Fate Audiobook – I’ve sent my first offer to a narrator to do an audiobook of Threads of Fate! Not only will that open up a whole new audience for my work, but I am extremely interested to hear what my writing sounds like in someone else’s voice. There’s no better way to improve one’s writing than to hear it read out loud, and I am always interested in learning and growing in my craft.
Twilight Rain Cover Art – As I mentioned earlier, I’ve got an actual artist working on the cover art for my upcoming book. Really looking forward to seeing some professional renditions of one of my favorite characters!
Instagram & Facebook – They say social media is an important marketing tool, and as such I’ve been attempting to lean more into that space. Working on keeping my old Facebook page updated, and I now have an official Instagram page as well.
Speaking Engagement – Still waiting on details for this event, but if you’re local to the Chattanooga area and the speaking engagement is a public event as I suspect it will be, I’ll be sure to put out an announcement.
In conclusion, 2024 is setting up to be an exciting year! To those who have stuck with me through the years, your support means the world to me! To those who are new to my writing, I hope you enjoy the stories I have to offer and that you find something that adds a little extra joy to your lives.
And to those who are struggling with mental health, writers and non-writers alike, I just want to offer a word of encouragement, especially as we move into the holidays, a time when mental health can be a particular struggle.
It can get better. It usually does. And at least in my experience, the struggle has been worth it.
Wishing you all the best. Here’s to a promising 2024!
This is just a quick announcement to let my readers know that my newest book, Threads of Fate, is now live on Amazon! For those of you who use Goodreads, keep an eye on my author page there as well. I just put in the order for some copies to use in a signed giveaway. Happy Monday, everyone!
May crept up on me faster than I ever thought it could, but I’ve got good news! I can actually see progress on my newest project. Originally called by the working title of Moments that Define Us, I have since settled on the official name Threads of Fate.
I last posted about this project in my NaNoWriMo 2022 recap. My original thought was that the book, a set of short stories introducing the reader to this new fantasy world I’ve been working on, would focus on the moments that defined the characters in each story. To some extent, those common threads remain the same, but perhaps what is most apparent in the set is the connection of one character to another. Some of the characters truly are heroes in one respect or another, some are antiheroes, some are even everyday people living everyday lives who, by chance, happen upon something that changes their lives thereafter.
Being an independent writer comes with a lot of challenges, not the least of which being the cover art. When I first started my foray into self-publishing, I had a lot of resource advantages I don’t have now. Not that I have room to complain. The wide variety of Creative Commons tools available in today’s day and age has allowed me to practice a skill I have long neglected: my art.
The sample art above is only half complete. There are a lot of details left to work on, but for someone coming out of years of depression and neglected skills, I’m pretty happy with how things are turning out.
While deciding on what I wanted to do for the cover art of this book, I spent a fair amount of time perusing the shelves of fantasy books at the local bookstore. It became readily obvious that the trend for fantasy books at least is to depict some sort of full-spread battle art. Still a little beyond my skill level, but it did make me wonder: what scenes in my stories really stand out and define what I’m going for in this collection? It brought to mind one section in the second story of this project:
Snowflakes. They were delicate…fragile…possessing an ephemeral beauty that was best appreciated in the moment. Together with others of their kind they could be built into beautiful works of art or thunder down the mountainside with the fury of an army, but alone, their existence was fleeting.
The short story is titled “A Light in Winter.” Noelani, a young mother who finds herself suddenly widowed and faced with the threat of monsters in the night, uses her late husband’s final gift to help defend her clan and the strangers her husband gave his life to save.
Many of the stories in this collection focus on how different characters affect the people around them, and what better way to illustrate that in the cover art than with the theme of snowflakes.
What’s Next?
My original goal for publication was the beginning of June, but with my current rate of progress, it’s looking like July might be a more likely date. While I have come to accept the “80% Philosophy” (see my post about Overly Sarcastic Productions if you’re wondering what that is), I do want to make sure I’m giving my readers my true current best before I launch.
Considering that the above cover art was done over the course of two days, it shouldn’t take more than another day or two to polish it up and get the title on it. The formatting is being done through the Atticus service, so that relieves some of the pressure I felt when I was formatting projects on my own with an outdated copy of Microsoft Word.
Something I’m doing differently with my manuscript edits is recording myself reading out loud. A good way to catch “invisible errors” is to listen to yourself read and find the places where you stumble. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the decade and a half that I’ve been writing, it’s that not every sentence that is grammatically correct is actually readable.
Perhaps that is the beauty of all art, though. There’s always room for improvement.
For Threads of Fate, it’s been a growing experience, but I couldn’t be happier, and I’m very excited to share this new set of tales with the world this summer!
A friend of mine recently introduced me to Overly Sarcastic Productions, a pair of historians and content creators on YouTube. As we finish out the last Monday of 2022 and look forward to what’s in store for 2023, I thought it might be fun to take a look at one of the more impactful videos (for me) that OSP has made: their 10-year review.
For those who may not have read my other posts yet, 2023 is going to be a big year for me, if for no other reason than for the fact that it marks the 10-year anniversary of the first book I published as an adult, Prism World. I’ve been telling stories for most of my life, and looking back at my work, I can see how much I still had to learn at the time I wrote each piece. It’s really easy to look at older pieces of work and think, “Man, that was awful writing.” I imagine that a decade from now I’ll look back at this post and be tempted to think that very thing. But as I work on the 10-year-anniversary copy of Prism World and watch this video by OSP, I feel that I’ve gained a new appreciation for my work, both the successes and the failures. For other content creators like myself who maybe have a bad habit of focusing on the negative side of creativity (the mistakes, the failures, the rejections, the notorious “Imposter Syndrom,” etc.), I strongly encourage you to watch this video. At least for me, it was very encouraging. But for those who don’t want to watch the whole thing, here’s a screenshot of their summary. I’ll go over what I came away with below.
Every story can be told in an interesting way
In the OSP video, Red (the two content creators are referred to as Red and Blue) tells the story of how the channel really got its start, namely a rant at a family gathering that started with complaining about Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing and ended in collective amusement. I attempted something similar back in college with my post Waste Water Waste of Time. Whether I succeeded or not…I’ll let my readers be the judge of that.
I think the first time this concept really stuck for me was listening to the audiotapes (yes, audio cassette tapes, because I’m old enough to remember those) of the books by James Herriot: All Things Bright and Beautiful, All Creatures Great and Small, All Things Wise and Wonderful, and The Lord God Made Them All. For those not familiar with that name, Herriot (whose real name was James Alfred Wight) was a British veterinary surgeon in Yorkshire, England who wrote a series of books about his experiences among the people of the Yorkshire Dales. The stories are amusing, and what’s most interesting about them is that they are all so real. It’s not even so much the “what happened” that is amusing but, rather, the way in which the stories are told.
In the OSP video, Blue encourages people to take a chance on a project. Even if it fails, you won’t know until you try. That can be easier said than done, but I really think the point here is that sometimes, when you’re feeling like your project is failing and that perhaps it’s the result of something wrong with you on a personal level, try looking at it from a different point of view.
Putting a project down doesn’t mean it’s gone forever
The quote I love most from this part of the video: “It is okay to put a project down, it doesn’t mean you’re a failure or you can’t commit, because you can always pick a project back up.”
I have multiple binders full of old story ideas that have been sitting in limbo for decades, and because of it, I have a bit of a reputation among my friends and family. Every time I say, “Oh, I have this idea I want to turn into a book,” there is an exchange of knowing looks and shared, “Uh-huhs,” between those who know me best. Not to say they are entirely wrong in their reactions, but there was a time in my life where I really did feel like a failure for all the unkept promises and incomplete projects lying around to remind me of what I hadn’t accomplished.
In the video, Red says, “I think…learning that you can put a project down and pick it back up again later – or even not pick it back up later – and that doesn’t mean you are failing as a creator…because what you created up until that point will still exist and still matter.”
Seeing myself and my work from that perspective was very liberating for me. And also, Red wasn’t wrong. You can always pick a project back up. Maybe not in the same form it once was. In my experience, I wouldn’t want my project to stay in the same form it originated from. But that doesn’t negate the value of what was created.
As I work on moving to the newly reimagined Olandris Legacies series, I’ve been going through old stories and borrowing what I liked from each to build something new. It’s been liberating, and fun, like going back and becoming reacquainted with old friends who have matured and learned valuable lessons over their lives.
Everything you create is experience gained. Maybe it will grow and become something big and permanent. Maybe it will be tucked away in a binder as a token of what you’ve learned. But everything you create has value, and even the roughest works of art are a testament not to your failure but to your willingness to try.
Get valuable experience quickly by iterating
“Done is better than perfect.”
So what does it mean when they say, “Get valuable experience quickly by iterating”? The short and simple answer is, “Do a lot, and don’t worry about how well.”
In this video in particular, Blue talks about the “80% Rule,” which essentially means, “Get your project to what you would say is 80% perfect and then move on.”
Let’s be real. Most of us who are creative types get so focused on “perfect” that we can paralyze ourselves into getting nothing done at all. That “80% Rule” gives us permission to not be perfect and, by doing so, permission to say, “This project is complete. Time to move on.”
Red also points out that every project done was the best they could do at the time. Each project was experience gained, which meant that each successive project got a little bit better. But that would never have happened if the other, “less perfect” projects had not been done first.
That idea kind of goes along with the concept of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). For some people, there is this mistaken notion that something has to be perfect before it can be acceptable. (Me. I am “some people.”) But in reality, that simply isn’t true. Not to say you shouldn’t strive to put forth your best effort, but your best effort now will never be the same as your best effort a year, two years, or a decade down the road. So give yourself permission to not be perfect and focus instead on just producing your work. As the old saying goes, “Practice makes perfect.”
Small lateral changes amount to big evolutions
Translation: “If you have a lot of things you need or want to change or accomplish, do it one thing at a time.”
There’s that proverbial question of, “How do you eat an elephant?”
The answer? “One piece at a time.”
For people like me, looking at the big picture means looking at where I want to end up and getting so focused on that that I get overwhelmed with the sheer number of steps it will take to get there. This is especially true when writing a novel. There’s a lot that goes into the production of a novel. You need to know the plot, the characters, and the world in which the story is set. Once the manuscript is complete, there is editing, formatting, cover art design, and blurb writing. And then, once you get all of those pieces put together, there’s the question of how you’re going to market it. And it can be kind of scary, especially if you don’t have the resources to pay professionals to do all the extra work for you.
As the OSP video points out, though, the best way to make changes or accomplish goals really is just small efforts over time. Write one word per minute for three hours a day every day of the year and you’ll have over 50,000 words, the length of a short novel. If a novel is too overwhelming, write short stories. The point is to make an effort, no matter how small. And honestly, I’m writing this as much for myself as for anyone else. Knowing what your end goal is can be fine, but don’t get so focused on it that you get overwhelmed and burned out. You might be surprised by how much you accomplish by focusing on smaller goals that lead up to the larger whole.
Make your constraints into your strengths
The big take-away for me in this part of the video was, where possible, allow others to help you with your project, and focus on the things you really have a drive to work on.
This sort of goes back to the previous point. Not everyone who can write a good story is good at editing. Even if you’re good at editing, maybe you’re not so good at editing your own work. Formatting, cover art, marketing, the same goes for those parts of the process, too. Of course, for those of us who stubbornly stick to the self-publishing model but have no excess money to speak of, hiring people to do the things you’re not good at may or may not be an option.
In this case, it might mean that you have to find other ways to make it work without overtaxing yourself and risking burnout. An example might be using more simplistic images for your cover art. If you’re good at writing blurbs but not so strong at art, focus on a winning summary instead of fancy art. While it’s true that a lot of people (myself included) are lured in by beautiful cover art, I can honestly say that what really sells me on a book are two things: the title, and the summary. And those are both things a solid writer can typically manage.
Lucky is not a substitute for Good
“Plenty of talented creators go viral and fizzle out immediately. Why?”
This was one of the first things my writing mentor in college pointed out in our Narrative Writing class. A lot of people have talent, but if you’re not actively working on your craft, no amount of talent is going to make up for not putting in the work. A person with mediocre skill can produce something great just by consistently working at their craft. An enormously talented person can remain in obscurity just by consistently failing to put forth an effort.
This can be both an encouragement for those who think they aren’t “good enough” even though they badly want to become writers. It’s also a warning for those of us who have for years been lauded as “talented.”
You can get lucky and be “talented,” but lucky is not a substitute for good. Or as Blue puts it, “Hard work makes luck stick.”
Set your priorities and understand your motivations
How do you set priorities? If anyone reading this has been following my blog from its infancy, it’s pretty obvious that my genres and interests have been what could best be described as a glorified pinball machine. Especially when I was younger, I had this idea that I had to be perfect, and that I had to make sure that I produced content that everyone liked. I would get intimidated by failure, and often I wasn’t true to myself when I worked on my projects, leaving me feeling (if not looking) like a complete flake.
The major thing I got out of this point of the video is, “Why are you a creator? What makes you do what you do?”
Taking a step back and looking at my work from a slightly more mature perspective, I can honestly say that in the end, I write because I love writing. And I love when my writing makes others smile. But truth be told, there is no way to please everyone. Even the most famous content creators in history had (and have) their critics.
As I look forward to a new year and a new chance to pursue my passions and dreams, I can honestly say that my priority is to write from a place of authenticity. I’ll give my project that 80%. When I get to the end of that project, I will look at it and say, “I have done the best that I can with the skill I currently have.” And then I will move on.
At this point in my life, I focus largely on writing for an audience of one, my friend Audrey whose enthusiasm for my work has helped me rediscover my passion for it. Maybe I will always write and publish for the entertainment of the two of us. From my past experience with Prism World and The Four Stars, I dare say it won’t always just be for the two of us. But I can’t focus on the “What Ifs” of the future. I have to focus on what I know. And what I know is that Audrey and I have a blast talking about my stories and imagining what the characters will do next. I also feel like what I write makes me a better person. It encourages me to explore new things, including my own feelings and motivations. I can become a better person through what I write.
That’s my priority. That’s my motivation.
Don’t go overboard on production value or side projects
I can’t claim to go terribly overboard on production value (I recognize my financial limitations), but side projects are one of my greatest temptations. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. My brain can best be described as a bag full of over-caffinated squirrels. And those squirrels are always coming up with new stories to consider. This has resulted in at least a dozen different fantasy worlds of varying complexities over the last decade.
Recently, going through the process of taking all those old ideas and reforming them into stories that can exist in one world has helped at least focus my thoughts a bit. I still think I have enough ideas to quite outlast my natural lifespan, but hey, at least I’ll never get bored.
In the OSP video, they talk about a moment in which people encouraged them to hire out all the different aspects of their work so that they could essentially just sit back and rake in money, and both Blue and Red talk about how that wasn’t what they wanted to do, because they legitimately loved their work. What has made them successful is (a) they continued to do what they loved and (b) they stayed focused on what they knew they could do well. Not to say that they didn’t branch out, and they did eventually hire someone to do some of the work they weren’t passionate about, but they still stayed true to themselves throughout the process.
And it makes sense. I think most people can tell the difference between a project produced for money or success versus a project produced with passion at its core.
Take active steps to avoid burnout and know your limits
What follows going overboard on side projects? For me, that’s one of the first things that will lead to burnout. I’ll go through a wildfire-level writing rampage on several different projects and then, all at once, my mind will tell me, “But this kind of story has probably already been told a dozen times by people way more qualified to write it than you. What makes you think any of this is worth reading?” Do too much at one time, and everything starts to look the same.
This is a chronic issue for me, not just in writing but in multiple facets of my life. A perfect example would be my study of foreign languages. I have been using Duolingo off and on over the years. If you were to look at my profile, it lists that I am studying: Japanese, Spanish, French, Irish, German, Hebrew, Italian, Norwegian, Russian, Portuguese, and Welsh. You know how many of those I’ve actually learned? Practically none. Especially when I was younger, it wasn’t that I didn’t know my limits. It was that I had a hard time accepting that I actually have limits.
This year, I’ve managed to get myself into a routine that has helped drastically with that. I am focusing on studying one foreign language only, Spanish. I grew up in Texas and a large percentage of the people I grew up around spoke Spanish, so it is one that I am naturally more familiar with.
For my writing, I try to set less intimidating goals. Just write 1 word for every minute spent working on the project. Since writing has become my career, I have a lot of minutes to work on my projects. By my calculation, writing every day with the goal of 1 word every minute I spend working on a project, I should be able to write well over 175,000 words. Will I hit that goal? Unlikely. Life has a knack for getting in the way. This year alone my dad and both of his parents passed away, and that only scratches the surface of what my year has looked like. So instead of focusing on, “I want to write 175,000 words next year,” I am focusing on, “I want to write 1 word for every minute I spend staring at the computer screen/notebook.”
That is my limit. That is what keeps me from getting overwhelmed and burned out. What works for me may not work for everyone else, but the point of this part of the OSP video can really be boiled down to, “Know yourself, accept that you do have limits, and do what you need to do to take care of yourself so you can keep doing what you love.”
I loved this quote in the video: “The goal is to enjoy what you’re doing, not survive what you’re doing.”
Pay respect to the classics, but don’t get stuck in a loop
In this instance, “classics” refers to past work that you thought, at the time, was phenomenal, the peak of your creative expression. And by “getting stuck in a loop,” this refers to the temptation of revising old work over and over again, hoping to make a “perfect” version of what you believe to be an ideal piece.
You know who’s the queen of getting stuck in loops? Me.
Recently, I’ve been working on a 10th anniversary copy of Prism World. I don’t feel like that really counts here because my goal is not to rewrite the manuscript. Mostly my focus is on updating the formatting and creating a map to go along with the story. In recent years, I’ve gained access to some phenomenal tools to help make that process easier.
There is a part of me that sort of regrets picking up and rewriting the Star Series, however. Not that I don’t like the idea of polishing up a story that meant the world to me at the time I wrote it, but in doing so, I have realized just how big of a plot hole I’ve written myself into. So many things about that set of books just don’t make sense. Of course, I was young and inexperienced when I wrote them. Those books are my “classics.” It was the best writing I could do at the time with the skills that I had.
I’m still working on the rewrites of those stories because I committed to doing so. That doesn’t mean it’s easy, and I have no intention of rewriting any new content I produce from here on out. Are there things that I wish I had done differently with Prism World? Absolutely.
But as Red points out in the OSP video, be careful about going down that rabbit hole. Because no matter how many times you rewrite/recreate a project, at some point you will have to accept the reality that nothing will ever be perfect, and (hopefully) your skills as a creator will continue to improve over time.
Conclusion
I think that the biggest points I came away with in this video were that it’s ok to not be perfect and, rather than focusing on what other people like, want, and feel (things you can’t change), it’s important to stay true to yourself, especially as a creator. Also, keep trying. Luck isn’t something any of us can control. Hard work is. And the best thing we as creators can do for ourselves and our craft is to put in the hard work now so that if/when luck comes along, it has a foundation to stand on.
So to all of my readers out there, I hope this video was as inspiring for you as it was for me. Good luck with your projects, whatever they may be. Wishing you a new year full of success and inspiration ahead!
They say that one of the hardest things about being a writer is deciding what gets to stay and what doesn’t when all is said and done. It’s a common theme for writers. My work is my baby. How can I just let it go?
I started writing the first book in my Legend of the Stars series back when I was a sophomore in high school. Somehow, that one book turned into a trilogy, and by the end of 2012, it had turned into a full-blown series. Thanks to some very honest (if slightly brutal) feedback from my writing mentor in college, I started the process of rewriting my old books, and in 2015 I published the second edition of The Four Stars. And then? Radio silence.
The last six years have been a process of determining what goes and what stays. This series is, as far as maturity level and experience goes, absolutely ancient. With disjointed worldbuilding and character development spread across some 20-odd planned books, where do I even start with trying to piece everything together and convince it all to make sense?
Well, I’ve finally settled on a more concrete plan. The new-and-improved Legend of the Stars series will include a set of four books plus a prequel: The Four Stars, The Secret of Erris, Rebirth, Ancient Vengeance, and Fall of Paradise (the prequel). The first four have already been written. They just need to be revised and reorganized. I’ve already got extended outlines done for the first three and am well on my way through the revised extended outline for Ancient Vengeance as well. Fall of Paradise was partially written back in 2011-2012, so I have the beginnings of a manuscript to work on for that story as well. The other dozen or so books I had planned? Well, they may someday show up as a collection of short stories, but for now, they will remain in my head as a pleasant and entertaining piece of my childhood.
Aside from extended outlines, step one for fixing some of the issues I had with the original copies has been rebuilding the map that goes with the stories. My husband and I discovered a wonderful map-creation tool called Inkarnate thanks to our D&D campaigns. We got the yearly Pro subscription to this incredible program which includes commercial use, so one thing you can expect in the rewrites of this series will be a much more organized and consistent map for reference. Here’s a first look at what I’ve drafted so far:
There are definitely still some revisions to be made as I comb the old copies for locations and lore and organize everything accordingly, but I’m liking how it’s coming along so far.
I’ll probably spend most of October doing prep work. With NaNoWriMo around the corner, this may just be an opportunity to buckle down and really get this ball rolling. Happy October, folks! May it be a wonderful and productive month for every one of you!
Recently I managed to get my hands on a copy of Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, and as I have been playing through the game, one thing in particular has fascinated me: the characters. This became especially true for me after finishing the Vah Ruta arc, and I couldn’t help but share some of the things I’ve noticed so far that I feel have particular value for those of us who endeavor to be writers.
For any who are concerned about spoilers, I’d suggest reading this post after you’ve played the game. For those who are just curious about my musings, here they are.
I was first introduced to the Legend of Zelda back when I was around 14 or 15 years old. The game series had been out for a long time, but I didn’t have access to any Nintendo consoles. As such, my exposure to the series was limited almost entirely to what I heard from my friends at school, with the exception of the Ocarina of Time mangas I picked up at the bookstore.
Twilight Princess was the first in the series that I had a chance to play, as I would sneak in game sessions while over at my best friend’s house, but I never had a chance to play much of it myself. Still, I watched the playthroughs on YouTube and enjoyed the story for what it was.
I’ve always liked Link as a character. Zelda, I never had much interest in, as her character always seemed somewhat flat to me. The game was named after her, but it wasn’t her story. With Breath of the Wild, I was expecting much the same sort of feel as that of Ocarina of Time or Twilight Princess. I was wrong.
While Zelda’s character development in the game is much more vibrant than I remember it being in either Ocarina of Time or Twilight Princess, the two characters that have really stood out to me so far are actually Link (the main character) and Sidon (the Zora prince).
Link
I have always been a fan of Link, ever since I first was introduced to the game series, and I can’t say his character is strikingly different from other renditions of him, but the thing that I wanted to mention about Link is actually how incredible it is that you can have a character who literally never talks. Or, I should say, who we never hear talk.
A regular aspect of Link in every Legend of Zelda game I’ve played or seen is that he is usually the only main character that has no notable dialogue, whether verbal or subtitled. This is equally true in Breath of the Wild. And yet, despite never really hearing his voice, we (or, at least, I) find him to be one of the most loveable characters of any story I have ever been exposed to.
As a writer, I get hung up on dialogue a lot. This is not to say, of course, that dialogue isn’t important, but if you look at how Link’s character is portrayed, clearly his dialogue is not what makes him the brave, loveable character he is.
There are two things I’ve noticed so far that really make Link stand out. The first and most obvious of those two things is the dialogue of the other characters. What Link says to the other characters is left almost entirely up to the player’s imagination, but what the NPCs say about and to Link tells you worlds about who he is supposed to be as a person.
The memory flashback of Link and Mipha, for instance, tells you almost everything you need to know about Link’s childhood and his relationship with the Zora princess. They are close friends. Mipha undoubtedly thinks of Link as more than a friend. We definitely get the sense that Mipha thinks highly of Link, though there is also mention that he was reckless and accident-prone even as a kid. Impa, either of the two researchers you meet earlier in the game, even the Zora king have positive reactions to Link’s return and give you clues as to how important he was before the Calamity, not to mention how loved and admired he was.
Though more subtle, Link’s character also comes out in his visual responses to what is happening around him. His eyes widen when he is surprised or he remembers something. Arms outstretched and body hunched, he’s ready for a fight. His most notable visual responses I’ve seen so far are in the flashback memory of the fall of Hyrule Castle, where a sobbing Zelda collapses into his arms. His reaction is awkward at first, but he eases into the embrace. His face remains somber, every bit what you could expect of a Hyrulian knight and Champion, but his body language is soft.
To sum it up, there are the two things I have noticed about writing in the character of Link. The first is that, when developing dialogue, consider whether or not it is absolutely necessary for the continuation of the story. After all, you don’t need dialogue to portray a character. When you do use it, however, make it powerful, and don’t neglect even the more minor characters. Even their reactions to your main character can have a big impact on character development.
Secondly, don’t forget about body language. This sort of falls into the “show, don’t tell” adage you will often hear in writing communities. Basically, the idea is that everything from a twitch in the eye to a bend in the knee can tell you worlds about who the character is if used correctly. It’s not just about the big, superfluous action scenes. The subtle movements of a character can be just as important.
Sidon
Sidon is the prince of the Zora who you meet in order to complete the Divine Beast Vah Ruta part of the main questline. For me, I got dragged into meeting him thanks to a collection of random Zora NPCs harassing me across the map of Hyrule saying that I should meet their prince on some bridge nearby.
At the beginning, I found Sidon to be an excessively annoying character. He’s weirdly chipper and has this thing he does where he gives Link some sort of thumbs up and a tooth twinkle at every opportunity. Basically, he was one of those characters I wanted to stuff back in the proverbial box and stamp “return to sender” on it.
Sidon is a major player throughout the Vah Ruta arc of the story, and despite his atrociously annoying quirk, he did grow on me over time. It was this aspect of the character I found fascinating: that a character so annoying could also be so loveable.
I still haven’t fully grasped what it is about Sidon that made his character grow on me, but as a writer, I find the idea intriguing. Sidon has this annoying quirk, and yet he’s so brave and passionate, you have to give him a measure of credit. He’s a bit awkward, sometimes repeating himself or talking very loudly, and by the end, you get the sense that there is a lot more depth to his character than was originally portrayed. He is the younger brother of the Zora princess, Mipha, Link’s close friend from before the Calamity and one of the Divine Champions. After Mipha lost her life in Ganon’s hijacking of the Divine Beasts, the title of heir fell to Sidon. Being so vastly different from his sister, however, Sidon has a lot to live up to, and in a way, you can see him struggling to keep up the strong façade, which perhaps is the real source of his annoyingly garish introduction.
In terms of writing, Sidon is a fascinating study of a character who can at once have both annoying quirks and loveable traits. In real life, I feel safe in saying we are all a “Sidon” at times. We all have our annoying quirks and loveable traits. Writing characters with both is what makes them real, but it’s especially important for an otherwise annoying character to have reasons for the reader to love them, too, or they become more of a hindrance in the story than a help.
There is so much more that could be said of the writing behind Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, and maybe I will write about it again, but in conclusion, there is a reason why the series has lasted as long as it has, and I don’t think it’s just because of the gameplay. From the viewpoint of a writer, I feel like there is a lot that can be learned from a story as timeless as the Legend of Zelda, and that is especially true in the character development of some of the major players in Breath of the Wild, whether it be the use of dialogue and body language, or simply the art of making an annoying character loveable at the same time.
Recently, in order to help myself increase my writing productivity, I’ve given myself permission to write whatever I want. Don’t worry about catching up on the many official books and series I’ve started or have planned. Don’t worry about making up for lost time on the blog. Just write. As such, I’ve turned to a slightly different type of writing. Something more realistic but maybe a tad less unique.
I haven’t decided whether or not to call it fanfiction yet, but it certainly is something inspired by a game. Not any game, though. It’s an old, mostly text-based online game called Final Furlong, and one of the few things/projects I’ve stayed mostly committed to for over a decade.
Final Furlong is an online virtual Thoroughbred horse racing game that was launched in 1997 that runs on real time. I discovered the game around 2008 while searching for virtual horse games (must admit, I was a virtual horse game addict). It’s been 12 years and I still play the game fairly religiously. It’s been a bit of a journey for me. It’s only been in the last 3 years that I’ve really been able to figure the game out and become successful. The creator of Final Furlong is, to me, a coding genius, making the virtual horses wonderfully complex, and I’ve found myself falling in love with the creatures that are as much in my mind as in the series of 0s and 1s in my computer.
It’s not like horse racing (or horses in general) are entirely foreign to me. I grew up close to a horse racing track (mostly quarter horses), and there was also a stud farm near where I lived. As a kid, my parents would (almost without fail) take me to the stud farm which technically housed more broodmares than stallions so that I could see the foals playing in the paddocks.
The short story/scene written below is largely inspired by an experience I had as a kid while at the stud farm. It’s possible I may one day rework this whole story to be an actual book, but for now, it’s just fun writing inspired by a mixture of the real and virtual worlds I have loved so much for so long.
It was a quiet, grey morning as an old Ford pickup pulled off the country road on which it had been travelling and onto the paved driveway of a small stud farm. A wooden sign at the entrance of the property read “Edgewood Stud,” which was scrawled in chipping paint across the sign’s weathered surface. Across from the weathered sign, a small duck pond shivered in a cool spring breeze, reflecting like a mirror the blanket of light grey clouds that hovered above.
Further down the paved driveway, the property opened up to a series of barns on the left and a couple dozen quarter-acre paddocks on the right. A variety of sturdy mares milled about the paddocks, polished hooves glistening with the moisture remaining from an earlier misting, while leggy weanlings tagged along at their heels and the local stallions nickered at them from the stables across the drive.
Halfway down the pavement, the old Ford pulled to a stop along the string of paddocks. The passenger door was the first to open as a girl of about five, with a mop of auburn hair pulled into a ponytail and lively brown eyes, bounded from her seat, small booted feet thumping lightly against the loose turf as she scanned her surroundings excitedly. Her name was Fae Darling, daughter of Neil Darling, one of the jockeys who took mounts at the small but friendly little Kentucky racecourse just down the road from the Edgewood Stud Farm.
Fae hardly waited for her father as she all but waltzed down to the first of the string of paddocks housing the mares and their tiny foals. It was a tradition for her, as far as traditions could go for a girl of only five, to go with her parents to the local stud farm to view the weanlings every spring, and so far in her short life, it was her favorite of all the places on earth.
Neil said nothing as he followed along behind his daughter, seemingly amused at her bright and childish excitement. Fae was hardly more than a weanling herself, thin and all legs as she bounced from paddock to paddock. She had to greet every mare and foal, no matter if the horses paid her any mind themselves.
“Hi, mama,” she would call to a mare, reaching one hand through the bars of the paddock gate and rubbing her tiny fingers together in an attempt to get the horse’s attention.
Some mares at least feigned interest, lazily wandering up to the gate to bump the child’s hand with their velvety noses, no doubt more in search of treats than of petting. Some merely chose to view the leggy creature from the hay racks in the center of the paddocks. A few ignored her entirely. Only one or two showed any real interest in the clumsy petting Fae had to offer them.
What Fae loved the most, however, were the foals. The tiny creatures, still more legs than horse, had no end of ways in which to flirt with the girl who beckoned for their attention from the barred gates at the end of the paddocks. Some ducked their heads beneath their mothers’ bellies, watching with a mix of fascination and fear, trying to figure out the two-legged human creature that was as small as they were.
Some weren’t so much afraid as they were entertained, teasing Fae by trotting just outside of her reach before kicking up their little heels and putting on a show as they ran circles around their mothers who watched in seeming resignation.
Most of the mares seemed at ease around the humans at the gate, keeping close to their foals but never really feeling the need to butt in to whatever it was they were on about. Some were more protective, ushering their young away from the gate whenever they got too close to it. The odd mare actually seemed to become jealous of her foal, pushing her baby away in favor of a good pat on the neck.
Sometimes, though rarely, a particularly curious foal would wander all the way to the gate, relaxed mother watching on in what could only be construed as curious boredom, allowing Fae to stroke it a bit before romping off to play, either alone or by challenging its peers in the neighboring paddocks to a race up and down the fence line.
One paddock, two paddocks, three paddocks, four…
Fae made her way down the rows, giggling at the antics of the babies while offering pets to the mothers. She was nearly to the end of the paddocks when she at last came to one with a particularly bright-eyed grey filly, who cocked her head and perked her ears forward when Fae approached. The filly’s dam, also a grey with doe-like eyes and a white star on her forehead, chewed lazily on the hay in the rack, watching her foal and the human girl with interest but little more.
Again Fae started up her ritual, putting her hand through the gate and rubbing her fingers together to get the mare and foal’s attention, as she had seen her mother and father do in times past.
“Hi, pretty baby,” the girl cooed, locking eyes with the bright-eyed filly. “Can I pet you?”
The filly let out a little snort and shook her head, prancing in place when she realized the two-legged creature’s attention was on her.
Fae smiled brightly, leaning her head against the bars of the gate.
“It’s ok, baby, I won’t hurt you.”
She clucked lightly at the filly.
The little horse seemed overcome with curiosity then, edging closer, big, dark eyelashes blinking back at Fae as she walked. The filly stopped within inches of Fae’s outstretched hand, sniffing curiously.
“It’s ok,” Fae cooed again.
A little more coaxing, and suddenly the filly was in reach.
Gently, Fae tickled under the filly’s chin. The little creature jumped slightly, unsure at first about the unexpected touch, but on the second try she seemed to settle into it, clearly beginning to enjoy the new-found feeling. At first it was just chin-scratches; then it was jaw rubs. Soon Fae was petting the filly from the face, down her neck, and to her back. Slowly but surely, the little creature began to press into Fae’s hand. Before long, the filly was all but leaning against the gate, and the next thing Fae knew, the little creature had poked one tiny hoof through the bars of the gate, resting it in the little girl’s lap.
A bit of a squeal escaped Fae’s lips at the gesture.
“Daddy, look!” she called as quietly as she could muster.
Neil, who had been petting a mare in the paddock next to this one, glanced toward his daughter at the sudden call.
“That’s cute,” he chuckled lightly, going back to petting the mare in front of him. “We probably need to get going, though.”
He gave the mare one final pat before making his way back toward the truck further down the drive.
“Just a little longer!” Fae pleaded, half looking after her father and half watching as the filly continued to lean into the petting that the girl offered. The tiny hoof spearing Fae’s leg now was a bit uncomfortable, but she dared not move.
I want this horse, she thought to herself. I wish I could take this baby home with me.
“Fae!” Neil called then.
The girl let out a very animated and frustrated sigh, and the grey filly opened one eye curiously at the sound.
“I’m sorry, but I have to go,” Fae said, gently trying to push the filly’s leg back through the gate without hurting her. The little horse pressed forward, as though not wanting to put her leg back through the gate.
“I know. I’m sorry,” Fae apologized again, this time managing to safely put the filly’s leg back on the other side. As she stood to go, the foal put her face through the bars, as though reaching out for more petting.
“Don’t do that or you’re gonna make me cry,” Fae fussed, patting the filly on the head one last time.
By now, the filly’s mother had come to see what all the fuss was about, leaning her head over the gate to inspect the small girl. Fae giggled, giving the mare a pat as well. It was then that the glistening of a name plate on the mare’s halter caught Fae’s eye, and she traced her fingers over the letters, reading out slowly.
“Some…thin’ Spe…cial… Somethin’ Special,” she said out loud before looking back up into the doe-like eyes of the grey mare. “Yeah, your baby is somethin’ special. I have to go now. Bye bye!”
And with a wave, the girl trotted off after her father who waited somewhat impatiently at the passenger side door. A little whinny cut through the quiet morning atmosphere from behind, as though issuing a final farewell.
Currently listening to: Traveler’s Song by Aviators
Look who’s still alive!
I’m not even going to pretend that I’ve been good at keeping up with my blog in recent years, and honestly it’s time to stop making excuses. (I feel like all attempts at blogging in the last few years have been excuse-making and not actual blogging). There are a myriad of reasons why I’ve struggled with the blog since leaving college, but this will be the last time I mention it. I’ll update when I can and just work toward better consistency in the meantime.
One thing I’ve realized in the years since leaving college is that I am not so much a writer as I am a social writer. Some people write simply because they have a story to tell, or some sort of burden on their hearts that drives them to write even if no one will ever look at what they’ve put on paper. Maybe I used to be that way, but in the years since leaving college, I’ve found that being creative without people to share that creativity with has meant that I have a lot less drive to prioritize my writing over housework or computer games.
Freelance writing has been a lesson in futility for me, being an extremely competitive and often thankless work. I’m not competitive, but I am hard on myself. My view of my ability as a writer has always been tied up in the approval of others, and I am quick to become despondent when my proposals are rejected over and over again. I’ve done ghost writing, but there is something very empty about that, and in the end, I have turned to other, more consistent forms of work. I’ve done some editing along with my journey into the world of freelance, which has been mostly positive but it has been made very clear to me that my editing is not publishing house quality. I suppose I’ve always known that, but I wanted to try. My husband has been very supportive and tries to listen when I rattle off story ideas of my own, but he’s not really the literary sort, so everything sounds good to him as far as he’s concerned, and I have stopped asking him for feedback because frankly he’s too nice. I have felt like I have been stuck in a tailspin with no way to get out. And for a while, I became so depressed that I stopped writing all-together. If I did write, it came in very short spurts followed by days staring blankly at the computer screen.
However, there has also been something in the background that has slowly but surely begun pulling me out of that depression, beginning last summer but growing over the course of time to the point that I finally felt I could pull this blog back up and try again. Some may laugh at my source of inspiration, but here it is. Last summer, I discovered Dungeons & Dragons (D&D for short).
I had heard about D&D for years but had never given it a whole lot of thought. I come from a very religious family and community, and anyone who knows anything about D&D knows that it used to be considered, at best, a game for 40-year-old men living in their mothers’ basements and, at worst, a devil-worshiping cult. As such, I never had a whole lot of exposure to it. I just thought of it as another game. So when my husband suggested we join a D&D game last summer, as both of us were sorely lacking socialization in our lives, I readily agreed. It sounded like a fun way to pass some time. What I discovered, however, was that D&D was much more than just a game. At least for the group we play with, D&D is like a living, breathing fantasy novel.
For the first game we joined (after trying a couple characters I didn’t end up using very long), I created a wizard bladesinger who multiclassed into rogue named Aeva. I did a cursory overview of the lore of the Forgotten Realms, which is where our campaign is based, and wrote up a little blurb about how Aeva had studied at the Blackstaff Tower and had become an archaeologist, but that was pretty much it. We played through a good portion of the campaign, and like the other characters I had tried, Aeva seemed bland. She wasn’t fun to play, and I really couldn’t figure out why. I mean, the game was fun enough, but if Aeva had died during that part of the campaign, I wouldn’t have missed her much.
At one point, another of the players decided it made sense for her character to stay where the group currently was. (Her character was from that city, and the city was trying to recover from nearly being demolished while its leader, that character’s brother, recovered from a bad injury sustained in the most recent battle). At the time, my character’s one driving factor was her search for ancient ruins, so I thought maybe I’d just dump Aeva here, too. After all, there were some ancient ruins nearby that we had failed to explore thoroughly thanks to a brutal encounter we ended up running away from. Then the DM (the person who runs the game) asked that no one else switch out characters. OK, I was stuck with Aeva. But if I was stuck with Aeva, I needed to make her more fun to play. That’s when I realized something. My character had no depth. Her driving force was shallow. So I asked the DM if I could redo Aeva’s backstory. He said that was fine.
That’s when I really sat down with my character and looked her over. D&D, I realized, wasn’t just a game where you threw together a bunch of stats and killed monsters. It was a living, breathing world woven together by the amazing storyteller who ran the campaign for us. If he was going to put that much effort into telling the story, I needed to put some real effort into making one of that story’s characters worth “reading” about.
First, I looked at Aeva’s classes. She’s a wizard but also a rogue. Rogues in D&D are typically associated with thieves. Why would a character who studied magic at the exclusive arcane academy that practically runs the metropolis of Waterdeep have anything to do with skills related to a rogue? Where would she have learned them? I had originally chosen to multiclass her to give her a little extra damage with her rapier (bladesinging feature), but what kind of reason in the story would she have to know those things? I had recently learned that Aeva, being an elf, would have lived through the Spellplague, a time in which using magic would (at best) not work and (at worst) turn the magic user into some sort of horrible monster. Aeva survived that as a magic user, which meant that she had to have had some sort of skills other than magic to keep her alive. That, I decided, was where she must have learned to use a sword. I then wrote in a character for her backstory who taught her how to use her rapier more effectively. This character was a rogue who helped Aeva survive some awful times during that part of her life. That was how she multiclassed into a rogue.
Bit by bit, I began to ask myself other questions. How did she gain the cartography skill? Why has she not been to Waterdeep for nearly 100 years? Why would she join forces with this eclectic group of adventurers (which I have affectionately dubbed “The Odd Squad”)? With these questions in mind, I began to build a character who really wasn’t much of a hero in the standard sense of the word but who had a reason for being part of the adventure all the same. That’s when I began to have fun playing her. That’s also what has engaged me more in the overall story. I worry for my character now. I try to make the decisions that she would make and I try to see through her eyes. Sometimes those decisions really aren’t the best, but they’re hers. I started writing the story of our campaign just to keep up with all the information and to make sure I was playing true to my character. And that’s when my creativity started to return.
When sifting through the myriad of writing tips that float around the internet, you often see advice to “interview” your characters. I have done that before even on this blog. The interview questions I have often seen listed range from “What is your character’s favorite food?” to “What is your character most afraid of?” These are all good questions to ask, but perhaps for people like me they’re a bit too specific early on in the development process. Perhaps a better, slightly broader question is: “Why is your character here?”
I know that more than once I have written down plots that sound like pretty cool ideas, but my characters seem only to be along for the ride. They otherwise have no real reason to be there. They are apathetic at best, and even their deaths would not elicit an overabundance of emotion. That’s when you know the character isn’t real.
Recently, one of my friends from the said D&D game introduced me to a book he has been using to build his newer characters as he, too, has been struggling with a character with minimal backstory who he doesn’t much care for.
The book is called The Ultimate RPG Character Backstory Guide by James D’Amato. Though definitely geared toward RPG players (think Dungeons & Dragons or Pathfinder), I have found that the ideas behind it have been very good for my story characters, too. This is especially true since I’m more experienced with fantasy writing than other types of writing.
While not every question or category really applies to a given character, there are a variety of things in this book to get a person thinking. These topics can range from creating holidays for your character’s culture to discussing how a group of people working together might react to each other in certain scenarios. If your character is leaving on a journey, what might they be leaving behind? If your character were to be severely wounded and on the verge of death, what thought might keep them fighting for their lives? What kind of experiences in childhood would your character never want to experience again, and how do those experiences shape the way they react to the world around them now? These are just a few questions brought up in the book that I have found very helpful in shaping my characters.
For me, I often find that I get too fixated on the mechanics of writing. I want to do things perfect the first time, so I focus on themes, and wording, and punctuation, and all those other formulaic guides about how to write a perfect book. It gets depressing, because I am quite aware of the fact that I am not perfect, and I probably never will be.
I read a comment on a forum recently that struck home for me. The person in question wrote, “I would rather read a book with a sucky plot and a character that I can identify with than a book with a perfect plot and a boring character.”
It made me realize that I have been so focused on building the perfect story that I have forgotten that the characters are the ones who give the story life. Characters need flaws. They need struggles. More specifically, they need backstories. Because in the end, where we come from greatly influences who we are and where we go in the present.
November 1 is finally upon us, and with it marks my 5th year participating in NaNoWriMo. Last year, I went big and bold with a brand new (and highly ambitious) project called Infinite, which I would still say was a success despite not getting anywhere near that 50,000 word mark.
This year, though, I’ve decided to scale back my ambitions a bit. Between grad school and a host of volunteer activities (not to mention work), I just don’t foresee myself getting very far if I try to build something from scratch. Thus, I decided that this year I would focus on shooting for 50,000 words of an in-progress work instead. (I mean, 50,000 words isn’t even half of what I’ve been producing in recent years).
I had several options to choose from this year, but after a careful consideration of the structure I already have in place for each story, I finally settled on the rewrite of book 2 of the Star Trilogy, The Secret of Erris. I think it will offer a good combination of challenge and ease, considering that the world is already mostly built but the changes in the first book have made the original plot nearly obsolete.
That being said, here is a little about my 2016 NaNo project.
Synopsis
A year has passed since the defeat of the Gauls at Altis Pass, and all of Livania has come together in the elvin citadel of Rinba to celebrate that victory. With the celebration, however, comes some shocking news: Cael, one of the original four Stars and Gavin’s father, may still be alive, trapped somewhere in the heart of Erris, a deserted, monster-infested swampland to the south of Livania.
Teaming up with the forest elf prince, Shea, the Ardenian princess, Lina, and Razi’s father, Delwynn, the four young Stars set out on a mission to save the missing hero. What they don’t know, however, is that Erris is not merely a deserted swamp. And as they search for clues to Cael’s whereabouts, they discover that they are not alone in this region, either.
Excerpt
Prologue:
A dancing fire crackled in the fireplace of an immense library, its lively flames casting a warm glow against the white marble hearth. The light of the blaze sent flickering shadows across tall bookshelves – all filled to the brim with a wide array of ancient volumes and scrolls – that stretched out along the length of the expansive room. Ancient tapestries hung from the dark stone walls that encompassed the room, their gold-thread tassels dangling above statues wrought of various metals, set with precious stones, and covered with a fine layer of dust. To one side of the white marble hearth stood an ornate bronze desk, its polished surface glinting in the firelight, and on the opposite side sat a plush red silk armchair trimmed in gold thread.
And there, settled down in the armchair, was Radek, his long golden hair pulled back in an ornate metal clasp as he bent his head forward, his bright blue eyes scanning the worn, stained pages of a stack of papers that had been recovered from the Battle of Altis Pass roughly one year earlier.
A sigh escaped the mountain elf’s lips, and briefly he closed his eyes, rubbing the tension out of them. He had lost track of the hours he had spent here in his library, sifting through the massive collection of material he had acquired over the thousands of years that he had been alive. Some of the tomes were new, written even within the last century, while others were ancient, their ages unknown even to him. These he had inherited from his father, who had inherited them from his own father before that. At one point in time, Radek had found the tomes to be mere entertainment. Now, though, he thought of them in a much different light.
The papers that had been recovered from the Gauls at Altis Pass were strange, written in ancient elvish but in a manner that was highly unfamiliar even to Radek. At first, the documents had been left to the Livanians, but when the code proved too difficult even for Delwynn, who had served under King Ceallach, Radek had taken it upon himself to sort out the mystery.
How long had it been since he had first started this project? Two months? Three? He couldn’t remember. And so far, he had managed to understand very little of it.
That the documents all pertained to Harzia was no surprise to Radek. After all, Harzia was where the Star Spell was located. It stood to reason, then, that it would also be a place of interest to the Gauls, who had been hunting the Star power since the dawn of the mountain kingdom. What didn’t make sense to him, however, were the constant references to words and names that even Radek himself had never heard of. Sometimes, the writing was poetic; other times, it seemed to be little more than gibberish. Most likely, Radek supposed, it was some sort of code system, possibly intermixed with the Gaulian dialect. He was surprised that any of the Gauls would know ancient elvish, but he wouldn’t put it past them, he supposed, considering their long history with Harzia. Now if only he could get into their minds long enough to understand the meaning behind the words. Just that long, though. Frankly, he had no desire to get into their minds beyond that.
Quietly Radek reached down to the papers resting in his lap, flipping one over to examine the next page. Oh well. Since mind-reading was out of the question, he would just have to continue doing things the usual way instead.
He was just getting to the end of the page when, suddenly, his eyes landed on a particular passage. There was a message here, one that actually seemed to make some measure of sense, and in it was a reference to an ancient elvin book.
“Strange,” Radek muttered to himself, standing and making his way toward the back of the library. “How would a Gaul know of this book?”
His sharp blue eyes scanned the bound volumes that sat on the aged shelves. To a visitor, finding anything in this library would probably appear all but impossible. But to Radek, it was simple. Very little had changed about it in the past thousand years, and he had read everything in his collection at least once.
At last he found what he was looking for, drew the book off the shelf, and returned to his seat. He laid the tome on his lap and stared at the title for a short time. It was a large book, possibly containing a thousand pages or more, and obviously old. The leather cover was cracked, the pages stiff and yellowed with age. Every now and again one could see an insert tucked in between the pages, each containing hand-sketched images of monsters, heroes, temples, and all manner of mysteries and glories of days long since past.
Radek’s eyes narrowed slightly as he stared down at the ancient text. He hadn’t read this book since he was a boy. How long had it been? 2000 years, perhaps?
Quietly he flipped to the title page of the book, running his fingers over the faded ink scrawled in delicate writing from top to bottom. Then, almost in reverent awe, he muttered aloud, “Legends of Erris.”
I’ve already got a total of about 3,000 words from previous work on this manuscript, so I won’t be starting directly at the beginning. Still, this year’s NaNoWriMo might give me the push I need to sort through all those plot and character changes and get this series rolling again. And to all of you who are planning on participating this year as well, I wish you all the best.
“Start writing, no matter what. The water does not flow until the faucet is turned on.”
The Write Corner 