Robert Frost

My mother made me memorize Robert Frost. The two poems I remember are The Road Not Taken and Stopping by Woods.

I didn't get it. A horse thinking it queer that a writer stops in the woods to watch them fill with snow? At the age of twelve, I thought that was kind of queer. The poems were just simple stories, and while I understood some of the allegorical content, I couldn't grasp the beauty of the language. It was just words.

I'm not sure why, but Robert Frost has been in my head for the last few days. Between the woods and frozen lake, the darkest evening of the year. It could have something to do with the blizzards that have recently brushed through my locale; Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. Or maybe it's just idle thoughts of a 9-5 laborer, pondering his situation, wondering what might come next.

Either way, words fell me. No matter how much I quote Monty Python, it's still funny. Now matter how many times I stumble over Shakespeare, it's still stunning. And no matter how little I understand of Robert Frost, it's still beautiful. Beautiful like I could never imagine before I tried to write it myself.

It's November... and Nanowrimo!

Nanowrimo.org

Day 3: I'm on schedule. I've selected a story outside my normal genres, but I'm not sure if I should call it historical fiction or something entirely different. What might you call a modern-day Jane Austen story with a man as the protagonist?

The Name of the Wind

Have you ever noticed how most every debut novel is jam-packed with admiring quotations from substantial someones? Wouldn't be nice to know which novel was actually as good as the fly-leaf quotations say it is?

Patrick Rothfuss's The Name of the Wind is every bit as good as the flyleaf says. Very probably, it's the best book I've ever read. Go buy it.

Scones

On frequent occasion, my lovely wife undertakes a random task of domestic experimentation. This usually involves something crafty, and always something new. This week, it's been, "how do we put this mountain of raspberries to use?"

Easy, right? Open mouth, insert raspberry. Mush between tongue and roof of mouth. Savor flavor. Swallow. Repeat until mountain is gone.

That's how I would have done it, but my domestic creativity ends with mixing various types of salsa to obtain new flavors for my tortilla chips. Is that even creative? It reminds me of mixing all the fountain pops together when I was six. Mountain Dew, Slice, Root Beer, Coke, Diet Coke, Tahitian Treat, all in one glass... ah, that was good stuff.

No, my wife made scones. I mean, really good scones. Like, the type of scones that make Starbucks scones seem ordinary. White chocolate, raspberry scones. And she made lots. I quickly determined that selecting a menu for the next few days would be incredibly easy. I was in a state of euphoria that might possibly emulate a heavenly afterlife.

Yes... I WAS euphoric. I'm not any more. Tragedy has struck. See, there's only one left. One little scone, hiding in old tupperware on the top shelf of the refrigerator. Calling my name. Please eat me.

She froze them all. Froze! As if the juicy, tender succulence of white chocolate chips and perfectly ripe raspberries can ever be the same! Each scone is now caged within a devilish layer of aluminum foil and ziplock plastic. The experience can never be the same, and not wholly in part because I must now DEFROST a scone before I can experience its delicacy. Woe is me.

I must plot the timing of the consumption of the last unfrozen scone. Tomorrow morning, perhaps, before the wife wakes, I will make it mine. Hmm. Or maybe right now.

Amren, Redraft 4

It's been almost 10 weeks since I mailed Amren to an editor. Haven't heard a peep. That's to be expected.

And so it's on to redraft #4! The process of writing book two and planning both two and three have done tremendous things to point out the issues in book one (I suppose, technically, I should still be calling these lengthy documents "manuscripts"), and since the current incarnation hasn't gotten a response, it's time to make it better. My list of areas up for axing isn't long, but it seems that every bullet point represents weeks of work, so I'll be prioritizing and handling one at a time lest I get lost in the deluge of sub-par text.

In the event I get a much anticipated but unexpected e-mail from an editor, I guess I'll have to ask him which variation of the story he wants...

Noveling

I’ve always had a certain sense of [very possibly misplaced] pride in being a hobby artist. The kind of pride that says, much like my previous post, I’d rather be hungry and creative than wealthy and employed at Doldrums.

I’ve become kind of a fan of Brandon Sanderson ever since meeting him at MiniCon. I’m about the worst fan in the world being as I haven’t read any of his books yet, but his first, Elantris, is slated for my literary consumption later this year. Sanderson is well known for writing 13 novels before finally publishing his first, but even he admits this was probably because, rather than editing current projects, he would quickly move on to the next, determined to fix the issues in the next book.

While speaking of this and of writing as an art at MiniCon, he pointed out how new writers frequently differ from other types of artists in their approach to the sale of their first work – no painter finishes their first painting and rushes off to the gallery, hoping to sell it for hundreds of thousands of dollars. Writers… sometimes do. And while the comparison isn’t entirely even (it doesn’t normally take a painter several years to finish their first painting), Sanderson’s comment about the need to refine your art form doesn’t vanish once a writer sets out to pen large manuscripts.

Noveling is an art form entirely separate from writing, and while many writers possess the talent necessary to write the quality of text needed for a novel, fewer have the gumption and perseverance [should that be reckless stupidity?] to complete a novel... and even fewer have the blind belief in themselves necessary to write more than one.

Business Writing

When my college experience made the wonderful switch away from general classes, there were only two majors for me to choose from: business writing and creative writing. At the time, I knew that business writing was more practical; potential employers like their unfortunate need for a copywriter to be softened by that person having the word “business” attached to their degree. I also knew that I’d rather be a starving artist than a working-class copywriter. I chose the creative writing path, knowing the degree would mean almost nothing, but that the experience would benefit the color of my writing more aptly than a dowsing of “business.”

Not along ago, I had an opportunity (within the confines of my necessary day-job… you know, the one that feeds me) to interview for an internal web-copy position. I jumped at it, figuring that my decade (or so) of strategically honing my subject-verb-infinitive-preposition (etc) combinations would merit some consideration for the position.

I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so belittled. Despite the interviewer’s gracious demeanor, the disregard for what I had to offer was… disheartening.

Clearly, I didn’t have the word “business” attached to my degree. Whatever this “creative” nonsense is that’s obscuring my portfolio, it meant nothing to this bureaucracy. In business, the succinct writing of Elements of Style pays homage to search-engine-optimized diction.

It’s made me wonder about that choice I made after high school. Part of me thinks there shouldn’t even be a choice: I’m pretty confident that if my 9-5 bureaucracy were patient enough to try me out, this creative writer can write whatever they throw at me. I might even be better than Joe business writer, considering I’ve had training in multiple genres.

But then again, business doesn’t wait for the muse. Better to plug in someone who’s already walked that learning curve, even if it means the opposite of saving money. God bless all of those editors and agents who can make a living by walking such a tightrope.

Amren Update

I'm happy to announce that Life After has reached a place in its life where it can enter the realm of submissions. It's just a matter of time before I start receiving rejection letters.

In the meantime, Life After 2 is now earnestly under construction. The main storyarc has been determined, and while many of the conflicting subplots are outlined, much yet remains to be discovered. I began writing [what I believe will be] the opening scene today but I'm getting bogged down by the creation of a vocabulary to describe a fantastical religious sect. I have to be careful to select words from multiple religions so as to not give the impression of satirizing any real-world religion, plus some phrases have evolved into terrible cliches. I'm not much of a word-inventor as taking the time to explain what the new word means detracts from story evolution.

It's looking like the beginning of book two will be especially difficult for Amren, but I'm sure there are some blues skies out there somewhere.

"the internet is for being rude"

I found this nugget of joy in the Pandora radio comment threads.

It has caused my wits to fly from my head.

The Dark Tower, Book I

Everyone should read the greats, right?


Perhaps my first experience with Stephen King should not have been the plodding, meandering, anti-chronology that is The Gunslinger. Not that flashbacks don't have a purpose; in fact, had the book been written without its hoop-jumping through time, I would have liked it less. For me, what the story lacked was the big, fat WHY. I understand what the Gunslinger's immediate goals are, but never why.

Image from BN.com

It's exactly as King intended, of course. The Gunslinger himself hardly knows WHY he slaughters an entire village with his six-shooters or travels across a phantasmal Sahara desert with a boy who's been sucked into his universe by the book's anti-hero. He only knows that he must, and he capitulates to the will of the author as every character, good and bad, must always do.

Ok, now I have to ask myself... did Mr. King know what his character's motivation was? I doubt it. The fact that he revised the book in 2003 says much of the book's seat-of-the-pants origin. So much of the story was yet unimagined at the initial 1982 (drafting began in 1970) publishing that later books ended up contradicting it, and the revision altered some details so that the first book fell in line with the others. In a way, I admire King for making this revision... it shows he was willing to admit that he'd made some mistakes.

Yet no matter how much I may decry those things that I perceive as shortcomings within The Gunslinger, Mr. King cannot be mocked. His work stands alone, his legacy already established.

I still think The Gunslinger is a terrible read. King's Colorful language does not fulfill the woeful gap left by my incapacity to feel any empathy at all for the 'slinger, and while I've heard and read that the first book is a joy to read once it can be placed within the context of the multi-book story-arc, I have this lively suspicion that King's brilliance is probably little more than building the rest of the story off the things he arbitrarily imagined in 1970-1982.

The Loft Literary Center

I've stumbled upon a writer's paradox.

I'm a firm believer that writers, as a general rule, are fairly empathetic people. Writing is an art that requires feeling, and those types of people who make a practice of really observing the world and find themselves vicariously experiencing another person's life just from a mere conversation are those that embody marvelous literary talent. It could come from anyone. Writers realize this, and it sparks a kind of open-mindedness, an empathy for fellow writers.

The business side of writing is populated by editors, agents, and boogie men. The gauntlet of deleted queries and rejection letters is scary.

Fortunately, we writers have more resources available to us than we could possibly ever use. Countless support groups, advisory panels, how-to websites, and sympathetic organizations provide useful information, if they can be found.

Here's my paradox: The Loft Literary Center is one such helpful institution. It hosts classes, readings, and other activities. However, it has developed a reputation amongst "outsiders" as being the paragon collective of writer's ego. If ever there was a high-brow writer's guild, this is it. Every time I've attended a reading, I have felt like I was snooping in upon an elitist cultural event. It didn't matter HOW good a writer I was, I would never be trendy enough to be a "Loft" writer. It was a paradox, a writer's organization for writers that managed only to make me feel as though my abilities and accomplishments were insignificant. How dare I call myself a writer?

I recently attended a two hour class at The Loft. What a difference. Maybe it was the time of day, morning, rather than evening. Maybe it was that I was in the midst of writers who were actually working to improve their craft by attending this class, rather than in the midst of those intent upon advertising their craft. Regardless, the class was quite good, and I plan to keep attend others.

My angsty paradox has begun to redeem itself.



As a post script, I'd like to add that my experiences with the business side of writing have been far LESS scary than I imagined they might be. Writers aren't the only people that realize talent can come from anywhere. Yes, I may be channeling Ratatouille.

Minicon

From what I've heard of the speculative fiction conferences in Minnesota, Minicon is the most literary. I attended Minicon this Easter weekend.

Among the panels for discussion (many of which were very worthwhile, covering topics such as editing and the publication process) was a "pitching and catching" session. It was American Idol for writers. An editor from a [very] large publishing house was at the judge, and anyone who wanted to pitch their book or story idea was welcome to do so, provided they didn't exceed the 3 minute time limit.

They ran out of time. I didn't get to go.

I was crushed. What an opportunity for aspiring writers! ...and I just couldn't raise my hand fast enough.

A friend of mine, a member of my writer's group, looked me in the eye and said, "we're going to corner him [the editor] tomorrow and you're going to pitch your story, even if I have to taser him to keep him from running away!" Thank you, Sam.

We cornered him in a mostly empty conference room the next day, and he went along with the pitch idea without the need for hostilities. His reaction was favorable. He asked several questions to clarify story/world construction, inquired whether I had an agent, and then asked me to send him the entire manuscript.

I think my response was in sentence format. I might have just been babbling.

Hermitage, thou art not devoid of reward. I will embrace thee once more and endeavor to fix various errors within my story before I make my submission. May the editor's inbox be empty when my document arrives.

The Good and Bad of Harry Potter 7

As a fresh writer, I’m keenly interested in the process which established writers used to become so. I read Joanne Rowling's Wikipedia entry with grotesque abandon several weeks back, utterly absorbed by the fact that Harry Potter was her first published book. Isn’t that what all new authors yearn to hear? That maybe, just maybe, their work will turn into a multi-million dollar, culture-electrifying smash?

It’s childish. And yet, that same childishness (perhaps I should refer to it as the state of being “child-like”) is what makes many science fiction/ fantasy works interesting. The ability to recklessly day-dream makes the unlikely become real to the author, who in turn must wrestle with their inner disciplinarian to cultivate those dreams into words that appeal to the market.

Deadly Hallows is the only Rowling book I've actually read; the first six books I absorbed through audio-CDs. I have a few... observations.

-The wedding; Perhaps my mind hasn't completely opened to the "magicness" of magic. Perhaps I just don't understand the sheer size of the Burrow. Either way, I found myself stumbling over logistics in regards to preparation for the wedding. HOW do so many people function in such a tiny space? I also think some of the appeal of the wedding is lost on Rowling's male audience, but that's hardly a reason not to include it. The wedding prep scenes just feel a little drafty to me. That being said, the wedding itself is a fascinating intersection of hackneyed personalities and
storylines.


-Grimmauld Place doesn't become interesting until the book is over. It's unfortunate that the reader spends so many pages in a place where nothing happens. Even the month-long process of observing the Ministry of Magic for their foray within, even though Rowling barely mentions it in passing, is stagnate. The book could have been improved by having another, more immediate means of information present itself to Potter and friends before the reader has a chance to wonder why in the world the muggle police force hasn't done anything about the troupe of men watching the join of number 11 and 13. Sure, this could be easily explained away by magic, but it isn't, and the reader is stuck experiencing the boredom of sitting around, watching paint dry.

My wife presented a counterargument for this point with an appeal to realism: A 16ish year-old boy and a couple of friends would indeed be very likely to spend lots of time "at home" -- especially if that home is as secure as Grimmauld Place.


-Wandering, the tent, and Ron's falling out; Rowling did a great job of making me feel as lost as Harry Potter. Not that the section is confusing or misleading, but that it goes on... and on... focusing around characters who are floundering. Appeal to realism? Or perhaps Rowling could have discovered other, more interesting ways of causing Ron to become so upset that he leaves the party. And Harry's finding the gryffindor sword at the bottom of a frozen pond while being simultaneously reunited with Ron after following a strange patronus spell took every ounce of disbelief suspension I have. It became even less believable to me after I learned that it was Snape's patronus at the end of the book.


-Godric's Hollow: Rowling impressed me twice with her musings on death and the loss of a loved one. I consider this portion of the book, in which Harry Potter visits his parents' grave, to be some of her best writing. However, immediately after, Rowling throws the reader into a miasma of confusing changes in point of view, vague statements apparently intended to be dramatic, and lousy descriptions of events. In what was intended to be an intense, life and death struggle between Harry and Voldemort's horcrux-infused snake, Nagini, the most predominant feature of the text is Rowling's relentless use of ellipses.


-Gringott's: This feels a little bit like Rowling was writing by the seat of her pants, but if so, it adds to the element of uncertainty while Harry and co. penetrate into the vault. The journey out, however, is no worse than the ending of the movie Deep Rising, one of the most laughable, poorly scripted conclusions ever conceived in the history of scriptwriting, complete with ski-doo. If ever Rowling turned the implausible into the convenient for the sake of her protagonist's heroism, this is it. The dragon is the worst cop-out in the entire series.


The end: was extremely satisfying. 4.75 stars. The last quarter point could have been earned if Snape had gone down fighting, rather than limply, while Nagini chomped on him; if Mrs. Weasely's magical combat skills had NOT inexplicably transformed into that of a warrior-mage; and if Voldemort had remained true to his inner character, even at the last. Voldemort is the paragon of cowardice: he has never faced Harry alone, one on one, in a duel, nor would he ever allow such an event to take place. Only when surrounded by his cohorts and while holding all the cards has he dared to confront Harry. In the end, he goes down as a "noble" villain, fighting against the overwhelming odds of the good guys, which makes for a complete ending, but it also goes against everything he has ever done in the past. Voldemort would have fled. The moment the Hogwarts battle drifted south, he would have been watching from afar, not fighting his way to wherever might make the most epic ending of the book.


Now that I've bashed the book, let me also say that once I got passed Grimmauld Place, I read the entire book in one sitting, easily eight hours of reading for me. In books, character development and consistency is more important than what events unfold, and aside from her antagonist breaking his mold of cowardice in the end, Rowling just might rival C.S. Forester in character creation.

Untitled Short, draft 1.0

The Room1.1 now resides on my laptop and in various backup states. What a horrible title. I guess -everything- is still in the draft stage.

The concept behind this piece is based on a series of real life dreams, not mine. My source was kind enough to write an essay detailing the mood and surroundings of the dreams, which I found compelling and inspiring. The story has some strong horror elements, which I absentmindedly placed in a Gothic, Transylvania-esque setting. The problems: my characters are American; I intended the story to be modern-day even though the mood is somewhat older; I have supporting characters that serve no purpose; and the entire first half of the story is totally unrelated to the latter half.

But it felt so good to write. What happened?

Project update: Trivial Technicalities

Outline in progress. This is way more work than I thought it would be. I should never underestimate projects that require research. I also anticipate several live versions of this reaching something resembling a final draft, so this may be a work in progress for quite a while.

Writing is a Lifestyle

I've run into quite a few definitions of what it means to be a writer. The most common has been "someone who writes." Should I be concerned that this self-evident definition seems to be deemed the most apropos by the majority of self-help authors?

Less frequently, I've read, "a writer is someone who writes every day." Ok. I missed a day. Now what? The intention behind this definition is good, but skipping Tuesday evening's freewrite shouldn't put the writer in danger of losing part of his self identity.

I've also read that, to claim yourself a writer, you must be published. I see the merit in claiming publication as the ultimate litmus test for "writership," but I can't think of a better way to discourage a fledgling. This particular opinion came from a successful novelist who freely admitted that for him, writing meant sitting in his office for 8-10 hours a day, slugging it out with his manuscript for months on end. I admire his tenacity and discipline, and mean to replicate it. But his definition of "writer" hardly lends a hand to the writing community.

What do I think it means to be a writer? I think I gave that away when I titled this entry. Being a writer means taking steps to market yourself; it means creating the time to read prolifically in your genre; sometimes, it means declining social invitations with the genuine reason that, "I need to go stare listlessly at my computer screen for an hour." It's being able to accept all manner of criticism and take the good (with thanks) and discard the bad (without comment). It's mulling through your current project in your head while plowing through your day job. It's critiquing other authors. It's a lifestyle.

Your writing lifestyle will be different than mine. Let me know how it goes.

Arbiters' Child: Draft 2 underway

Having received a healthy dose of feedback from a number of sources, the fine revision process for Arbiters' Child can finally begin. I was pleasantly surprised that the most troubling sections are fairly ambiguous, and while consistency is an issue, the largest change I need to make is simply redrafting for clarity.

The other major issue within the piece is its inherently abstract nature, in which I have struggled to ground the reader. If I can figure out a way to give the reader a concrete starting point, the abstraction will be less invasive and easier to explore.

Nonfiction and Timing

I was part of a formal debate league in high school. The community was pretty small. Close-knit, kinda. And very dramatic. My debate partner and I were the only two guys in the midst of a (small) sea of ladies.

Debate was great. Attempting to form and maintain basic friendships with some of the other debaters was laborious. No matter how well you know the other debaters, there's always that underlying knowledge that you'll be trading brutal argumentation the next weekend.

Immediately after I graduated, I wrote a short, (almost) nonfiction essay detailing some of the drama that was carried along on the shoulders of teenage angst and formal debates. Reading it now, it has far more depth of feeling than anything I could currently produce about that time period. I think I remember a professor once saying to me, "it's important to have enough distance when writing nonfiction. But it's also important to be close."

I put my pen (fingers) to paper (keyboard) a few days ago, and the death of my grandfather came out. He died in 2004. Is nearly six years enough distance? I think I'm still too close to tell.

Trivial Technicalities: Early Development in Progress

I started jotting notes on this project today. Five paragraphs later, and I've yet to produce an ounce of actual work. Still, the notes are promising. This is one of the few projects I undertake that will require actual research, so I'll be making a journey to the library in the next few days. Before I hit the library, though, I'll be surfing the web for options so that I know what I want when I get there. Oh, the irony.

Lolwut?

This is the pinnacle of internet slang. The power of communication via written text has been reduced to criminal ineffectiveness by an acronym. Lolwut?

I'm no English scholar. I'm just a guy who gets annoyed when useful phrases get turned into nonsensical jargon by spam. Have you played an MMORPG recently? Have you watched the world chat channel? How many statements (because it's impossible to measure internet chat by actual sentences) included some variety of LOL?

But here's what really gets me... the vast majority of the uses of "lol" are meaningless. Some even use it to temper ambiguous statements that might be interpreted as bigoted, despite that the subject matter has nothing to do with humor of any sort.

I'm a fan of lol. I can't stand it when people type something other than what they mean.

Second Drafts: To Rewrite or Refine?

This is a question I ask myself with repetitive frequency in my current labors with the Amren project. My initial writing process normally involves its own kind of in-process-edit, so I've been fortunate enough to have several first writes make it to the final edition on several smaller projects, but Amren has been long enough in the workings that I can see a certain level of growth within my own writing between the beginning and the end. Several passages, like tonight's project involving an extra-planar entity, are just plain lousy. I've even updated it once before. Was I not paying -any- attention to diction??

I could rewrite. I could probably make it a lot better. Yet despite its coarseness, I still suffer that illogical clinginess that writers often have for pet projects. Against my own better judgment, I decided on the "refine" version of second drafts.

I'm not done yet. But halfway through, I'm pleased with the results thus far. The events of the scene weren't particularly imaginative or dramatic, but often it's the desperate grasping for mundane necessities (breath; water; solid ground; life) that makes a story ring true. This particular "maxim" might seem out of place in a story involving alternate realities, but I don't think Amren would disagree with me. No matter what plane he is in, maintaining his flesh in an unbroken state ranks very high on his list of interests.

Shameless Plug

--------> www.nanowrimo.org <----------


Sorry for the lame arrows.

This is the web address for the creators of the National Novel Writing Month. If you're familiar with Nanowrimo, skip down several paragraphs.

The idea behind Nanowrimo is... is... well, here's what they say about it, from their "about" section:

"National Novel Writing Month is a fun, seat-of-your-pants approach to novel writing. Participants begin writing November 1. The goal is to write a 175-page (50,000-word) novel by midnight, November 30."


Now, if you're like me, you're asking yourself this question: Of what practical use is a 175-page novel? John Grisham barely gets going in 175 pages. Charles Dickens considered 175 pages to be somewhere in the middle of chapter three. And Herman Mellville could have written 175 pages worth of text on the back of a postage stamp. The point is, most "good" novels occupy the mind for far more than 175 pages. I am not of the opinion that good literature must be lengthy. I'm just citing a trend that I've witnessed in an entirely non-scientific manner.

If a 175-page book is so pointless, why the shameless plug? Because Nanowrimo is the best tool I've found to help young writers get their good ideas on paper.

I'll say that again, and since vertical space is free of charge on the WWW, I'll be generous with my carriage returns:



Nanowrimo is the best writing tool for new writers!



It's free. The staff commentary and pep-talks along the way are witty and encouraging, and they take part in the journey with the masses. Local support groups can be found in virtually every major metro area. Resources to assist in keeping the groundbreaking, breakneck writing organized are readily available. The only real requirement to participate in Nanowrimo is lots of idle time and plenty of knuckle grease. It is truly a transformative experience.

That being said, the end product is an extraordinarily tiny, horrendously choppy and bumpy, nearly random piece of garbage. Unless the author gets lucky or spends inordinate amounts of time editing and revising, my guess is that the average NanoNovel isn't worth much.

But aside from the 30 day requirement, is Nanowrimo really much different than writing any other large, story-driven document? My experiences are hardly extensive, but I frequently find that I'm writing by the seat of my pants. I rarely know if my current paragraph will last beyond the chopping block. Surely there is merit in planning and outlining, but most authors will tell you that characters almost never cooperate with them throughout the whole story.

To me, Nanowrimo is a proving grounds. I've survived, twice now. I figure I probably have what it takes to write for a living. The next step... is to make the Nanowrimo endeavor something I do every month.

A Note on Typogrpahical Errors Found Herein

This is a blog about words and writing. It will therefore be free of typographical errors in every sense. There will be no misspellings, incorrect word choices or placements, no syntax transgressions, and no doubled spaces when not preceded by a period.

However, it should also be noted that I cling to the principle that when creating art, rules and structure must be followed unless there is a reason to break the rules. Henceforth, all questionable formatting found upon this blog can be attributed to my sense of art. I find rules are usually made to be broken.

Amren's Holiday Review

Four invaluable friends (Ok, so one of them is my wife. She's -doubly- invaluable.) are undertaking the challenge of reading the entirety of Amren while it is yet in its adolescence. If you've never read a book-length document that is full of errors, inconsistencies, plot holes, hasty writing, and half-baked thoughts, I would suggest avoiding doing so at all costs. Nevertheless, writers around the globe need this kind of verification fairly consistently, so friends, spouses, and writer's groups across the globe submit themselves to this kind of abuse regularly. If you four ever read this... thank you!

I've obtained one of the scribbled-upon copies already (he had it read in less than a week) and the comments are enlightening. After reviewing the first quarter of his comments, I've already filled a page with notes of changes and alterations that need to be made... and these aren't necessarily simple fixes. A few of the changes will require revision of many scenes throughout the document. I've got my work cut out for me. However, I've never before been so happy to work so hard. My epic yarn is spinning, and that's neither gamer nor fiber-lover terminology.

Arbiters' Child: Draft 1 Complete

I dredged up a short science-fictiony bit and put to work expanding it over the holidays. Considering it was published in a university's creative arts newsletter, I was disappointed to find so many awkward phrases yet retained their place within its margins. The fresh rewrite, easily three times the length of its predecessor, is hardly what I would consider polished, but I'm fairly confident the diction is better than before. I'm having a second pair of eyes review it tonight. Draft 2 comes soon, if Amren decides to leave me alone for an evening.