Re-Revision: Getting Messy

May8

Don’t Tell Me: I’ve had my fingers crossed so long they ache. Do you know the feeling? Have you ever waited for feedback or through revisions, hoping against hope that this time was the charm? Anticipation rides high for a while. But time slides by and something changes. During the latter days of those fingers-crossed, hoping-against-hope waiting periods, I often begin to imagine the worst. They think it sucks. They weren’t drawn in. They can’t even force their way through my swamp of awful words. At some point a reversal occurs. I actually start to dread what I might hear.

Yet Again: So now I’ve actually heard, and lived to tell. I received some high-level critique of book one of my historical fantasy trilogy, The Bonds of Blood. There’s a lot to take in. Don’t get me wrong, much of it was good. I’ve been here before. I know I may be down, but I’m not out. And most of the advice I received this go-around rings true in my gut. Which means I am headed into revision…Yet again.

It’s not hugely shocking for me. But I must admit I’m disappointed. Of course after each round of revision, you hope your manuscript is finally ready. But even as I sent it out, deep down I had a feeling it wasn’t quite the book it could be. And it’s exciting to hear how close it is to ready, from several trusted sources.

The Labor Behind the Plot: I’m no gardener. But my dad was. My mom, too. When I was a boy, our family’s half-acre plot of land was lined with pristine garden beds, and there was always something in bloom. My mom had a real touch for it. In the early sixties, her gardens were featured in House & Garden Magazine. Neighbors would come and admire the gardens, as would passersby. My siblings and I were very proud of them, and her.

In the backyard my dad had a two huge vegetable patches. And he kept a compost pile. In the fall my dad would spread the compost accumulation and the lawn clippings over the vegetable patch. Then in the spring, he would turn the whole thing. By hand. With a spade. It took him a week or more, all in his spare time—evenings after work and weekends. But, boy, were his tomatoes wonderful! The soil in that patch of garden was greasy-black and rich. Everything grew well there—cucumbers, squash, radishes, peppers, carrots. It was all delicious stuff.

Our house was a simple, middle-class, three-bedroom ranch. But that simple little house was situated on a pristinely tended plot. And, having seen my parents toiling, having been put to work weeding, mowing, sweeping, and shoveling snow through my childhood, I knew that well-tended look, that riot of blooms, and those juicy tomatoes came at a price.

Digging Deeper: As I said, I’m no gardener. Maybe it was all those days weeding and mowing rather than riding my bike or playing baseball, but I don’t enjoy the act of gardening. I do enjoy having a nice garden and grounds. And now that I have my own house, I’m willing to put in the necessary level of labor to achieve a modestly attractive landscape.

As I was tidying our yard today, I was contemplating my upcoming revision. As I weeded and trimmed last year’s dead growth from our modest gardens, I realized a few things. Our gardens are never going to garner attention and admiration. We’ll never grow the kind of tomatoes that make people light up when we dole out the extras. Our yard and gardens are tidy, but nothing special. If we really ever want to make them special, it would take some serious commitment to hard work. It would have to start with the soil. We’d have to remove the surface mulch and replant everything. We’d have to dig deep, add nutrient-rich compost and manure and peat. And turn it. By hand. With a spade. For days. Like my dad used to do it.

My Pristine Garden: I may have work to do on my manuscript, and it is far from perfect, but one thing noted by most who’ve read it: it’s clean. I’ve worked at making it tidy. I’m not saying it’s masterfully written, but there are very few mistakes. The paragraphs and scene breaks work well. The POV changes flow smoothly. Mechanically, it’s fairly well-tuned, by most accounts. I’ve weeded my typos, and carefully trimmed and edged the breaks. The pathway through is smoothly groomed.

And, much like my yard, it’s very nice—but not as special as it could be if I did some diligent work and deeper digging.

Getting Messy: The most daunting part of returning to revision is knowing how messy it will be. If I dig in like I need to, all of my work to make it pristine will go by the wayside. Rewritten scenes will have clunky sentences and typos. And the scene changes may not be smooth. It will take more feedback to be sure readers aren’t accidentally tripped up on my new pathway through the garden of my manuscript.

But I realize it must be done. And my work this year may not yield ripe fruit and gorgeous blooms before the season’s changing. Another summer of my journey may pass. But if I am willing to get messy, and to be diligent, the growth in seasons to come will inspire the impact and results I seek—the response from readers that I know my story has the potential to inspire.

Pristine is not memorable or moving. Unlike my yard, I believe my story is worthy of being memorable and moving. Unlike my yard, there is no choice. I owe it to my muse and to everyone who’s supported me to get this far. I’m ready to roll up my sleeves and take up my spade.

It’s time to get messy.

How about you? Ever had aching crossed fingers? Are you willing to dig into your pristine garden and get messy?

Ambushed by Theme

Apr25

“Starting with thematic concerns is a recipe for bad fiction. Good fiction always begins with story and progresses to theme; it almost never begins with theme and progresses to story… But once your basic story is on paper, you need to think about what it means and enrich your following drafts with your conclusions. To do less is to rob your work (and eventually your readers) of the vision that makes each tale you write uniquely your own.” ~Stephen King (from On Writing)

It’s Just a Simple Story: That’s what I kept telling myself and others while I worked on what became my epic fantasy trilogy. I started with a young man who is an heir to his clan’s chieftainship, and a young warrior-woman assigned to be his guardian. I kept reminding myself I was just telling their simple story, through the next six or so years and six hundred plus thousand words of prose. Um, yeah, it sort of spiraled on me.

But I honestly always considered the story simple, and rooted in the characters. I only stopped when I felt I’d told their story. Only in hindsight can I see the themes that arose in the telling. And, in the spirit of the trilogy’s epic length and breadth, quite a few themes did indeed arise. I suppose the most central and overarching one would be the importance of embracing one’s own freewill over an externally imposed fate, as I explored here.

“I write because I don’t know what I think until I read what I say.” ~ Flannery O’Connor

Reading back over the trilogy and thinking long and hard about what was bestowed upon me in the process, I’ve come to realize I’ve been ambushed by my muse. I set out with no intentions of addressing thematic concerns or to make any statements on societal issues. But no few such issues and concerns arose in spite of my intentions. In hindsight I see: racism, sexism, militarism, the imposition of religious dogma, obligation to family, and duty to community versus self-determination, to name a few. As an example of one of the totally unanticipated issues that my muse sprang on me, I give you slavery.

Muse-Induced Enthrallment: When I set out, I knew the ancient Roman Empire would play a substantial role in the story. And I was also aware that Romans kept slaves. I mean, I have seen Spartacus. But I hadn’t thought too much more about it.

Very early in the plotting phase of my trilogy, I was looking for a reason for my protagonist’s father’s clan members and followers to have been kept completely separated from him through his childhood. An idea struck me: they had been defeated by the Romans, and were enslaved, as the conquered often were. It seemed so natural. Such a simple little layer to my simple little story. Oh, you sly muse. But, slave to her will that I am, I shrugged and added it to the storyline.

Little did I know that by book three, I would be featuring the POV of a Germanic slave-boy. Or that I would have a former slave reevaluating everything about his goals and motivations after seeing the slaves beneath him in a new light. Or that I would feature a highborn Roman, utterly accustomed to being constantly surrounded by slaves, come to question slavery because of newfound emotions instilled by a new slave in her service. By the end of the trilogy, the story is heavily entangled in the issue of slavery.

History’s Dirty Little Secret: Although it’s not really a secret if you look at the record, slavery was little more than a footnote in my school history lessons on, “The light of the western world,” as St. Jerome called the empire. By the time slavery reached its peak in the fourth century, slaves made up one third of the empire’s population, and over 40% of the city of Rome itself. Keep in mind, at this time Rome’s population was around one million (that’s 400,000 slaves, for those who haven’t had enough coffee to do the math).

Regarding the Goths, the subjects of my story, I’ve seen estimates of as many as 40,000 Gothic slaves being held in the Roman homeland by the start of the fifth century. Keep in mind, Constantine changed the official religion of the empire to Christianity in 313, and the Goth Ulfilas translated the Bible into Gothic and successfully converted the majority of Goths to Arian Christianity in the mid-300s. By the year 400, these were, for the most part, Christians keeping Christians as chattel.

“Beautiful writing is more than pretty prose. It creates resonance in readers’ minds with parallels, reversals, and symbols. It conjures a story world that is unique, highly detailed, and brought alive by the characters who dwell there. It offers moments of breath-catching surprise, heart-gripping insight, revelation, and self-understanding. It engages the reader’s mind with an urgent point, which we might call theme.” ~ Donald Maass (from Writing 21^st Century Fiction)

Muse Gift: So although I say my muse ambushed me with themes, I consider her little surprises wonderful gifts. Slavery is one of the oldest and greatest crimes against humanity. It hadn’t been on my radar at the onset, but it became a prominent element in the goals, motivations, and conflicts of several of my major characters.

Although I do not lay claim to having achieved the “beautiful writing” Don refers to above, I aspire to it. Slavery became a vehicle to explore intense human emotions, such as shame, humiliation, elitism, compassion, love, hate, and vengefulness, to name a few. I’ve now viewed anew the destructive and subversive power of slavery, not just for the slaves, but for the slaveholders, and the slave-dependent society. As a theme, it offers detail, depth, and complexity to my story world.

Whether or not you believe they are muse bestowed, I know that seeking out and pondering the themes and symbols that arose in the process of storytelling continues to move me closer to achieving that depth of engagement with readers in Don’s quote. As a side-benefit, I continue to learn a lot about myself and what I think in the process. That’s a thematic win.

What surprises have you found in your work? Have you been ambushed by theme? How does it enrich your story?

Writing To That Spooky Feeling

Apr16

Déjà Vu All Over Again: I had one of those spooky feelings about my work last weekend. I’m sure you writers have experienced something similar, or at least I hope you have. I’ve had several versions of it. I have found myself able to perfectly picture places I’ve never been. I have felt I was in the skin of characters I’ve never met or seen anywhere else. I’ve wondered where story elements came from even as my fingers tapped them out.

It’s been one of the most amazing parts of my writing journey. And even though I have written outlines in the past, and plan on continuing to explore better and more efficient ways to plot and outline in future works, I hope I never stop having spooky epiphanies and instances of literary déjà vu.

Whapped By My Muse: In this past weekend’s instance, I suddenly knew something about my historical fantasy series. I have four finished manuscripts—a trilogy and its prequel. At the end of the trilogy is a built-in spring-board to move the story forward. And I’d always had ideas, nearly a notebook full of them, for the day when I can actually continue the story. My spooky feeling this weekend came when I was noodling and writing my weekly facebook history post about a small group of actual historical figures—Goths and Romans. I started a sentence: “Although none of my characters is specifically based on…” And I got stuck. I stood up, stretched and went for more coffee to work out the rest. I poured the coffee and stood staring out the window, and said aloud to myself, “It’s almost as if the trilogy was about their parents’ generation.”

And voilà. My wheels were spinning so fast, I could hardly get the surge of ideas down on paper. It was as if my muse had whapped me upside my head and was standing there with her arms crossed, nodding in satisfaction, but saying to herself, “It’s about time you got it!” If I can pull this off, it’s going to be as if all four of my manuscripts had been specifically designed to lead into this exact series of events. The stars had aligned, as if it was always meant to be—as if by magic.

Channeling Ancient Terror & Tumult: I said that the spooky feeling is one of the most amazing parts of my writing journey. And my writing journey has been the most amazing of my life. Of course the emotions that surface are not always happy. But the emotions found are my own, and therefore an important part of my journey toward self-knowledge and personal growth. Even the sadness and grief I’ve found in fiction are cathartic. They help me to recognize and order my emotions, as well as to release those that are buried or bound up inside.

The tragic events in Boston this week remind me of my most profoundly haunting and emotional writing experience. It occurred during the writing of book three of my trilogy. Beforehand I’d read an account of a historical atrocity, and I immediately recognized it as a part of the motivation and mindset for my characters’ actions. The account was brief and very prosaic—maybe three paragraphs.

Reading about the atrocity hadn’t particularly moved me. It was just another terrible, cruel thing one group of people had done to another; history is rife with such behavior. But I knew it belonged in my story. When it came time to write the scene, a funny thing happened. Now I knew the characters involved. I knew it meant death for a few and immense pain for many others. I put it off… for weeks.

The day came when I could put it off no longer. I steeled myself and sat to write. The scene poured out of me as if from a broken dam. It came out fully formed, and has required almost no revision since. The moment I finished typing the final, tragic sentence, I leapt to my feet. I walked laps around my house, unable to draw a satisfying breath, tears streaming down my face. I finally threw on a coat and walked to my bench on the beach. I sat and sobbed. Until my black lab, Belle, could stand my odd behavior no longer, and nudged me to play Frisbee with her, as if to remind me that life goes on. She has a way of doing that.

Immortal Feelings: But the experience serves to remind me of the importance of fiction. Terrible events are marginalized by time and distance. Atrocities become history, which becomes prosaic. Until we are brought to the proper perspective. Writers offer that perspective. They say we write to be immortal. They say we write to make sense of the world and to seek ourselves. I think there is truth to those things. But my experience makes me wonder if we write to make sure that events remain immortal as well. And not just to make sure the events are unforgotten, but that the feelings evoked live on, as well. History cannot be allowed to become prosaic. Atrocities should never become statistics, and cruelty should never be a footnote.

Mystical Connection or Cognitive Complexity? I’m still not sure if my connection to the atrocity was somehow mystical, or if I was simply releasing my own pent up, subconscious grief. But I know it was a significant moment in my life. Whether my work is published, or whether another soul ever reads it or feels even a fraction of what I felt, it is significant. And I’m grateful.

In my first interview ever, here, interviewer extraordinaire Lara Schiffbauer asked, “Do you believe in everyday magic?”

My answer then applies here: “In a recent discussion about the mystical versus the scientific in regard to writers having a muse, I weighed in on the side of the mystical. I believe there is so much more going on than can be easily explained. Those on the other side claim that the seemingly amazing story elements that occur as if from nowhere are just a byproduct of our brain’s complexity—the result of accessing our cognitive subconscious. Even if the science proponents are right, it’s still pretty damn magical to me. Even if I’m self-deluding, why would I want to live in a world without magic?”

I still stand by my answer, even if I’m still self-deluding.

Have you written to the spooky feeling? Do you think it’s mystical or cognitive complexity? Or does it matter? Would you rather just join me in potential self-deluding than consider it?

Backstory—Fiction’s Foundation

Mar28

Ignorasphere: Know where it is? Trust me, if you’re trying to give life to a story, it’s not a good place to dwell. Your story won’t be able to breathe well there.

Very early in the process of outlining the story for my historical fantasy trilogy, I ran into a problem. I tried to ignore it, but turns out I couldn’t. I set out to write a story about a young man struggling to cope with his destiny, and a young warrior-woman assigned to be his guardian. But I kept tripping over the fact that his destiny, and the reasons for her assignation, were rooted in what had already happened. They were a product of their world, and its past. I kept telling myself it was simple stuff, which had to do with his father. I wanted to simply move ahead with the story, so I wrote side-notes like: “His father was a rogue chieftain—a raider who conquered a nearby port city.” And to fit the story as I progressed, I would add things like: “His father married his mother purely for political gain.” And, “His father’s followers are still living in the conquered city, and my protagonist has had no contact with them.” And so on. All in an effort to move on.

But notes like these only led to more questions, such as: Why was he a ‘rogue’ chieftain? Why was he raiding? Who originally lived in the port city? What would impede contact between the chieftain’s followers and the son? And on and on. The story just would not properly unfold without knowing more. It couldn’t breathe in the ignorasphere.

Turns out I couldn’t ignore the past.

Fomenting Forefathers: My muse demanded answers. So I started working backward. I named the father (as I explain here, I always start with the names). And I dug into researching my world, and began the process of world-building (which I’ve written about here). Fortunately, I’d already decided that I wanted to base my story in the world of the Germanic Tribe of the Goths during the fall of the Roman Empire. Since the Goths had two ruling clans, and basically split into two subgroups (the Visigoths and the Ostrogoths) during this era, I decided my MC’s father could’ve been the catalyst figure for the coming of this fracture. The son then quickly became ‘he who was born of both ruling clans.’ Of course prophesies are often wrapped around such figures, right? Wheels were spinning now. It was destiny! (Sorry, got carried away there, but such thoughts are good fodder for characters who believe in fate, right?)

Excavate and Lay the Footings First: Forgive the metaphor, but I’m a builder as well as a writer. And I knew I wanted to build something substantial with my story ideas. Every builder knows that to build something solid and lasting, you start with sound footings laid on good groundwork. The process of prepping the groundwork and laying the footings for my trilogy took about a year. I started with research and note-taking, and then named the people and places and drew my maps. Only then could I start laying the foundation, block by block. The backstory foundation took about another year, outlining and writing snippets of prose, often finding problems and going back to insert new elements or correct existing ones. And even though I knew these early blocks would be below the surface, they still had to be level and true. Only after I had a solid foundation could I begin to build my story.

World Without Beginning: You might be wondering how far back one must delve. I suppose it depends on the story. It might only require knowing a protagonist’s childhood. For my purposes, I went back and hashed out my protagonists’ parents’ generation, and their doings and deeds. Much later, after I finished a draft of my trilogy, and while I was going through a first round of submissions, I decided to start another project. I was really interested in further exploring the backstory, particularly the story of the father of the trilogy’s protagonist. How did he become a rouge raider? Sort of like how George Lucas went back to explore Darth Vader, but without any annoying Gungans or (hopefully) any wooden dialog.

Know what I found out? That’s right—I had to dig back even further. Turns out my protagonist’s grandfather had a sketchy past. There was a love-triangle, an accidental death, accusations of murder. Yep, the angst between my Goth’s two ruling clans has a long, tangled, and bloody history. Just goes to show, no story can exist in the ignorasphere. I’m glad I did it, as I feel it only added richness and depth to subsequent revision work on the trilogy.

What’s It Worth? Besides freeing your work from the ignorasphere, allowing it to breathe and grow, there are a lot of other advantages to a thorough exploration of backstory. For example:

*Enhanced Ambiance—For me, writing epic historical fantasy, I was interested in creating a legendary feel for the world of my story. Careful placement of historical tidbits throughout not only added shading, but color and mood to my story. For other genres and types of stories, backstory might add another ambiance, such as one of technological advancement for science fiction, or desolate isolation for a dystopian.

*Instinctual Context—If you know your world and its past inside and out, you more instinctively sense how your characters will react to situations. This is something WU contributor Lisa Cron refers to as avoiding character amnesia in a great post here. Having an understanding of each character’s beliefs and cultural mores gives you a firmer grasp on their internal and external motivations. Knowing the context of the conflicts, from all angles, gives your scenes a natural tendency toward authenticity.

*Elevated Stakes—A comprehensive exploration of backstory often reveals an enhancement of the stakes. Your protagonists have immediate conflicts, but these may impinge upon the larger picture in ways that raise the stakes. For example, my two Gothic clans are in conflict, which affects my protagonist in an immediate way. But by knowing the backstory I realized the bigger picture, that the Goths faced annihilation at the hands of a looming Roman military behemoth. If my protagonist fails to solve this inter-clan conflict, his people may face enslavement or extinction.

*Bigness—The concept is from a Donald Maass WU post, here. And I believe knowing the backstory gives you a leg up on achieving it. In the post, Don says, “In big fiction the main protagonist generally has several big things going on (plot layers, in my terminology), and a couple of minor problems too. One or more of the major POV characters also is on a personal journey. Think of this as an emotional sub-plot, such as a wound that needs healing. This inner need can generate as much plot as external problems.” Several of my secondary characters’ personal journeys came to light through backstory exploration. I also gleaned much of the nature of my protagonist’s inner journey, as well as the motivations and goals of my antagonists, through that exploration. If I achieved any level of bigness at all, it came largely through grasp of backstory.

Iceberg Warning: A writing friend told me about Hemingway’s Iceberg Theory–the analogy of backstory being like an iceberg, with only the tip visible from the surface. In other words, you can’t show it all to the reader. I like that, but perhaps my iceberg would be magically levitating as the reader progresses, with more and more readily apparent as they go. Much of what you discover and know may never break the surface, but it will have given your story buoyancy nonetheless.

I believe backstory will give your story context, complexity, and authenticity, making it a richer and more deeply involving experience for your readers. But care must be taken. Reveal backstory only as it becomes necessary. Lay the proper foundation, but always keep your story front and center. Stay out of the ignorasphere. Use backstory to shade and add nuance to your characters’ goals, motivations, and conflicts.

Whether you’re building an epic trilogy like me, or a contemporary standalone, through the thorough grasp and judicious use of backstory, we can build a substantial story and strive for Bigness.

How do you chart backstory? Have you ever experienced epiphanies or story enhancements through exploring backstory? Do tell.

Image credit: <a href=’http://www.123rf.com/photo_14533949_iceberg-floating-in-blue-ocean-global-warming-concept.html’>anterovium / 123RF Stock Photo</a>

Destiny Calling

Mar15

“Don’t believe the adverts, Don’t believe the experts, Everyone will sell our souls;
Get a little wiser, Get a little humble, Now we know that we don’t know;
Tell us when our time’s up, Show us how to die well, Show us how to let it all go;
Here we come, This is our destiny calling…”~Timothy Booth, James Glennie, David John (from the song Destiny Calling, by James)

An Age-Old Question: A recent thread on facebook inspired this post. It was a long and thoughtful discussion among friends, delving the depths of a deep and fairly personal topic: predestination versus freewill. Not bad for facebook, huh? A bit more provoking and inspiring than your typical Grumpy Cat meme.

I’m not sure anything was resolved. Everyone has their own feelings on the subject, and the answers for each of us are rooted in our own brand of spirituality (or, in some cases, a resolute lack thereof). But it reminded me how much of my work is tied up in the issue. You see, I’ve looked at destiny from a lot of angles—to the tune of four long manuscripts.

Bringer of Urrinan:

The Priestess Amaseila came to offer him blessing. She held her hands out to him. Upon his touch she gasped and convulsed, eyes wide and knees buckling. Vahldan tried to pull his hands away to help her keep her feet, but she clung to him, even as she slumped and grimaced.

The onlookers stirred and murmured, but none dared intervene. Her haunting gaze never left him, but she finally regained herself and straightened. “It is you,” she breathed, as if recognition dawned. Her voice rose, “You are the bringer. You will wreak great pain upon our people. But also will you bring glory, and great joy. What is to come through you will change us all— Gottari and Skolani alike—forever. You shall be the start of it. For upon your doom, the Urrinan shall ride.”~From The Severing Son (Prequel to The Legacy of Broken Oaths Trilogy by Yours Truly)

Destiny’s Child: And so it begins. Not just for Vahldan, but for his progeny, for generations to come. In keeping with the real world, I sought to include religious and cultural dogma and superstition in how my characters perceive destiny. I do not ask my readers to believe that the Priestess Amaseila has any prophetic abilities or that Vahldan is actually doomed, or that his progeny will bring about the Urrinan (a prophesied cataclysmic change in the imperial world). In fact, I hope I’ve left readers free to deduce that Amaseila, as well as her equally outspoken daughter Amaga, are: actually in touch with the divine, lucky guessers, clever enough to manipulate those who think them prophetic, completely delusional, or some combination of the above.

“There is a divinity that shapes our ends; Rough hew them how we will.” ~William Shakespeare

External Impact: It wasn’t the prophesy of the Urrinan or Vahldan’s destiny that particularly interested me. No, what I chose to explore was how our views about our own destiny are shaped externally, primarily by the social imposition of beliefs and the expectations of others in our lives. Time and again, my characters are forced to make choices based on their belief in a destiny imposed upon them. Over the course of the trilogy, they are faced with coming to terms with the concept of fate. They must choose whether to embrace a predetermined vision that had been laid before them, or to hew a path toward their own version of destiny by staying true to themselves. Of course, whatever they choose, there are consequences to face.

“What we call our destiny is inside us. It is truly our character and that character can be altered. The knowledge that we are responsible for our actions and attitudes does not need to be discouraging, because it means we are free to change our destiny.” ~Anaïs Nin

Hewing a New Course: You might be wondering what all of this has to do with writing, besides the thematic exploration of my four manuscripts. For me it has everything to do with it. There is no question that, like my MCs, I have been motivated by expectations. Even my expectations for myself were long shaped by external forces. Based in some measure upon the expectations of others—parents, teachers, community, society at large—I selected a curriculum in school, went to college, selected my major, sought employment, pursued business success. Our perceptions of our destiny can be powerfully shaped by the external.

And yet, in my heart I kindled a hope and a belief that writing was my calling. It certainly wasn’t a part of my parents’ vision for my destiny. Grandchildren and a nice house in the suburbs, yes. A cottage in the woods, pouring myself onto the pages of lengthy fantasy manuscripts, not so much. My mom has adjusted to it. And I’m sure my dad would’ve been proud that I followed my heart. But it certainly wasn’t what they had envisioned.

“You are what your deep, driving desire is.

As your desire is, so is your will.

As your will is, so is your deed.

As your deed is, so is your destiny.”

~from the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad IV, 4.5

Fortune Favors the Brave: Perhaps you’re also wondering what I came away with, after nine-plus years and 600,000 plus words worth of literary exploration of the topic of destiny. I suppose you’ve surmised I don’t put much credence in predestination. But to Nin’s point, I do believe we are each imbued with the elements of character. Whether it is an innate gift or a nurtured one, it’s there. Whether it is through our legacy—the expectations and lessons of those who love us in our formative years—or the complete lack thereof, leaving us a clean slate to create ourselves, our destiny is inside us. As Nin points out, our character can be altered. Indeed, I believe it is incumbent upon us to seek ourselves in our deep, driving desire. But only in seeking for that inner calling can we find the will to hew a course toward it. And only through the day to day deeds of hewing that course can we find our true destiny.

My writing journey has been the most rewarding of my life thus far. It can be scary, deviating from what had seemed a fated existence. But my journey has taught me that destiny rewards courage. It takes courage, and sometimes great sacrifice, to embrace our true calling, and to choose to strive toward it, whatever the obstacles. Of course there will be consequences—some for boon and some for burden. But even the burdens can be easily borne by those who stay true to their heart’s compass for destiny.

Calvin or Hobbes? I wouldn’t dare invite a debate on predetermination versus freewill in the comments. It might be safer to ask you if you prefer the cartoon kid or his tiger. But I’d love to hear your thoughts on destiny. Is writing your deep, driving desire? Are you up for the challenge of hewing your own course?

Image credit:<a href=’http://www.123rf.com/photo_11097070_idyllic-and-peaceful-forest-track-at-spring-time.html’>prill / 123RF Stock Photo</a>

Keeping the Faith (In Spite of All Contrary Evidence)

Mar6

Planning to write is not writing. Outlining, researching, talking to people about what you’re doing, none of that is writing. Writing is writing. ~E. L. Doctorow

Writers Write, Right? So I’ve been remiss. For almost three months. Oh, I’ve dabbled, written a few posts and letters, etcetera. But I hadn’t composed any new prose since November—until last week. That’s when it hit me. I’ve been driving myself bonkers by avoiding actually writing. I’m not sure how many times I need to learn this lesson, but this was not the first time. Apparently I’m a slow learner.

As to how I came to renew the realization, suffice to say I found myself rewriting a chapter in book two that had been made redundant by book one revisions. The two days I spent doing the new chapter were amazing. I felt so alive—exhilarated even. I hadn’t had these particular characters in my head and my heart like that in a long while. But they sprang right back to life for me, their voices as clear as ever. I didn’t realize how I had been missing them. Finishing the scene was cathartic. I was quite moved, feeling like I was floating on the ether for hours afterward.

Writers Obsess, Right? Then, as with any great high, I came crashing down. Reviewing book two brought me back to reality. It still needs work. I still have my editor’s notes. A big job awaits me there, which is both exciting and daunting. Like many writers, I both love and hate my own work. I know I will never be singled out as a poetic or masterful wordsmith. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not without confidence. I will always strive to be a better writer. I love my characters and my story. I feel good about my world-building and characterization. I aspire to be an improved wordsmith and a great storyteller. And I’m persistent.

I’ve experienced my share of self-doubt. I’ve even written a post admitting to (okay, whining about) my occasional lack of faith in myself. If you asked me when I last felt insecure about my abilities as a writer, I’d probably ask you what time it was, so I could tell you in hours rather than days or weeks. I’ve lain awake in deep despair, trying to convince myself I should shelve the trilogy and move on. But I can’t do it. I can’t because I still believe in my story (me, not always so much, but the story, oh yes). I know in time the story will find its place in the world. How do I know? That’s what last week’s experience led me to ponder, and why I am writing this post.

The (Abundant) Contrary Evidence: I admire and respect Jane Friedman. I consider her a gift to writers. And she’s been very kind to me over the years. A few months ago, she wrote a wonderful post titled: How Long Should You Keep Trying to Get Published? In the article, she singles out first manuscript attempts as problematic. I’m seeking to publish my first. She also says: “A writer who has been working on the same manuscript for years and years—and has written nothing else—might be tragically stuck.” Um, years and years? Yeah, nine of them. There is a caveat in regards to my work, as I have four complete manuscripts, but they are all set in the same world, and I can even make a case that they’re all essentially part of one large story. As I said, I respect Jane, and suspect her observations here are most often correct.

I’ve also been told that my work is too long, that series books by debut authors are ill-advised, that I should’ve limited the number of POV characters, that historical fantasies set in an alternate Europe are passé, and that fantasy fans want a well-defined system of magic. I’m on the losing side of each of those issues. Clearly I have a lot to overcome when I submit. And yet I still believe, and persevere.

“We who make stories know that we tell lies for a living. But they are good lies that say true things, and we owe it to our readers to build them as best we can. Because somewhere out there is someone who needs that story. Someone who will grow up with a different landscape, who without that story will be a different person. And who with that story may have hope, or wisdom, or kindness, or comfort. And that is why we write.” ~Neil Gaiman

In the Vault: Over the years I’ve carved a niche in my heart for my belief in my story. It’s a lockbox, hidden away from the world and, sometimes, from my own self-doubt. Neil’s quote sits nicely in that niche. I believe there is someone out there who needs my story. And that belief only gets stronger as I forge ahead. I know I must strive to make it the story it’s worthy of being—to make sure it gets through to that someone who needs it.

Writerly Debt: Neil says we owe it to our readers to build our stories the best we can. Two years ago, in the comments of one of her Writer Unboxed posts, I asked the aforementioned Ms. Friedman if there was a way to know if I should shelve the trilogy and move on. She was not only kind in her reply, but wise. She told me to ask myself not how long I’d worked on it, but whether or not I was still growing as a writer. I knew that I was. In the two years since, I’ve have endeavored to strengthen my story, and I know I’ve grown in the process.

It’s through this growth, and with the help and guidance of my mentors and fellow writers, I’ve come to recognize mine as good lies, and to see that they say true things. I know by continuing to persevere I can make them not just more seamless but more powerful, and that my truth will resonate all the clearer.

Hidden In Plain Sight: Only in pondering this post and writing it have I come to realize that my vaulted belief is rooted right there in my story. I have two MCs who must keep the faith. They are striving for something that seems such a distant hope, against seemingly insurmountable odds. My male protagonist fears he hasn’t enough courage to face his destiny, but—step by step, in spite of the ever increasing odds against success—he endures. And in doing so, he finds there is courage just in continuing to strive.

True Lies: My story is about finding courage you didn’t suspect you had, facing your fears, making difficult choices—choices that lead to sacrifices for a belief, and for love. And in making those brave choices comes the knowledge that you can live with the consequences of your decisions, because you were true to yourself and to those you love and who love you. These are my good lies, my true things.

Yes, I’ve kept my belief locked away, but by sharing it with you here I take a small step toward finding my own courage. And I’ll need courage to persevere, and to deliver my story to the someone who needs it. Only if I am brave on the page will that someone find hope, or wisdom, or kindness, or comfort there.

Feeling brave? How do you keep the faith?

Image credit: jgroup / 123RF Stock Photo

Redirect to Hugs & Chocolate – Headswerving (Mulitple POVs)

Feb20

Today I have the honor of standing in for Heather Reid, taking her slot on Hugs & Chocolate, the wonderful writing craft blogging home of six talented writers. In the post I confess to headswerving. If you don’t know what that is, I’m afraid you’ll have to go and see for yourself. I’ll give you a big hint: It has to do with multiple POVs, a subject near and dear to my heart. I’m not quite the writing equivalent of Lon Chaney (or Sybil), but there are a quite a few characters running around in the ole noggin. Are you scared yet? Head over to my post for the frightening truth.

Vaughn Roycroft's Blog

Seeking the Inner Ancient