Posts Tagged "Stina Leicht"

• Look, Ma! No hands!

  Writing the Second Novel

  I always thought my problems would be solved the moment I had an agent and my manuscript sold to a publisher. I thought that once you were published the negative voice in the back of your brain vanished forever. Ha! Yeah. Not so much. The voice that tells you you suck merely acquires a new script. You’re not a real writer because you’ve only one book in print. You’re not a real writer because your book didn’t sell enough copies. You’re not a real writer because you haven’t won an award. You’re not a real writer because… well, you get the point. But you know what? Dealing with that negative voice, blowing it off, and still writing — that is being a real writer. It’s having to cope with all the doubts and all the things which you’ll never have control over. (Like how many people buy your work.) It’s not easy, but every job has its downside. That’s why you have to love writing with every fiber of your being. Because it’s just not worth the heartache, otherwise.

  With the first book, you’ve all the time in the world. I had three years to do all the research I needed to write Of Blood and Honey. When it came time to write And Blue Skies from Pain frankly, I panicked. The pressure to get everything as correct as I could get it had become too much. I didn’t know if I could finish the second book. I cried all over my agent’s t-shirt at the retreat last summer. He told me it was going to be fine and that I really did have all the information I needed. It took an expert on Northern Irish politics, Nicholas Whyte, to make me understand that for sure. (Thank you, Nicholas!) My agent was sooo right. Of course that wasn’t the only stress. There was that awful internal critic. It was chanting, “The second book won’t be as good. No one will like it. You’ll never write anything as good as the first.” (Thank goodness that turned out to be not true.) My goal has always been to improve as a writer over time. There’s so much to learn! There is no way anyone can know everything about writing, and now I feel I can grow. That first book isn’t everything.

  Honestly, all this pressure and stress is normal. It’s why being a new writer is so difficult and also so hard for outside people to understand. The second book is where you find out if you can really hack it as a professional. The first… well… I wouldn’t call it a fluke, myself. You work too damned hard and bleed too damned much to call it that. It’s more than mere luck — far more. Sure, luck is a factor, but you made that luck with your bare hands and others helped — many others. But the second book is where the training wheels come off the bike. There’s a risk of falling over and skinning your knees or cracking open your head. There’s always that risk that you’ll have to put the training wheels back on too, but there’s also a chance you’ll ride down that road in no time with your hands in the air, laughing. You never know until you try.

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• INCONCEIVABLE!

  Sub genres, what do they mean (steam, cyber, bio, splatter)? 



  “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.” — The Princess Bride

  What do various subgenres really mean? It’s important to think about the answer to that question because SFF works are constantly being categorized and re-categorized. The English language is a living thing in that it constantly shifts and changes. Words are dropped out of current use and others are revived. The particulars of grammar alter over time as does spelling. One can object to such things, but it doesn’t do much good. (Although, I do wish sometimes that people had a bit of historical context.) Readers need labels in order to find what they like. There are simply too many books out there. Here are my thoughts on a few subgenre labels.

  Urban Fantasy/Paranormal

  The meaning of Urban Fantasy seems hotly contested these days. There are those who swear it is Fantasy with a romantic sub-plot (a newer definition) and those who deny that romance has anything to do with it and that it merely means fantasy set in an urban environment (an older definition.) As I’ve said before, while I don’t agree with the first definition (I’m in the ‘not romance’ camp) it does have merit. Those of the first group tend to use television (specifically Buffy the Vampire Slayer which aired starting in 1997) as the start point. Those of the second group are referencing  Borderland (an anthology published in 1986) and authors which contributed to it and the subsequent series such as Terri Windling, Charles de Lint, Ellen Kushner, Emma Bull, and Will Shetterly. Neil Gaiman and Jim Butcher are (in my opinion) Urban Fantasy authors. Traditional Urban Fantasy also has a musical (usually punk but also country-folk) element. Laurel K. Hamilton started as an Urban Fantasy author and then drifted into Paranormal Romance, that is, fantasy with romance plots. (She is where the lines between the two start to fray.) If you ask me, the whole argument is a bit like asking music fans about the origins of punk music. Some will say that punk started in New York and is defined with music and fashion only. Others will state with absolute certainty that punk started in London and also encompassed a political movement. (I’m of the belief it started in London.) The truth is, while the London scene had a bit of a jump on the New York crowd — each heavily influenced the other from the very beginning. Which brings me to the next set of subgenres.

  *-punk

  As you can probably tell, I’m into punk music. So, the word punk has certain associations — subculture, youth, rebellion, shock culture, artistic edgy-ness, fringe, political upheaval, anger, DIY, chaos, anarchy, and anti-establishment. Now that ‘punk’ has become a genre suffix… well… I don’t believe that it’s necessarily being used in the same way. In the case of Steampunk, I’m dead certain it isn’t. However, it can be argued that Cyberpunk (the first subgenre to use -punk) did intend the ’70s era meaning of the word. Cyberpunk stories contained high-end technology combined with a disintegrating social order, that is, chaos. It tended to glorify the loner, had a DIY (do it yourself) mentality (if you were a programmer) and very definitely was anti-establishment. Steampunk, on the other hand, is about nostalgia, more specifically, a nostalgia for empire. My theory is that the movement is rooted in the anxiety that America (like Great Britain before it) has lost its status as the dominating super-power in the world. Thus, steampunk looks backward instead of forward — to the good old days when men were men and women wore corsets and looked dainty and everyone (well everyone not being oppressed by the empire in question, anyway) was optimistic and financially stable and all was right with the world. (Again, provided you weren’t a minority.) For that reason, I don’t understand why Steampunk rates the punk suffix. Perhaps it’s because of the DIY costuming element, or maybe it’s the mad scientist angle, but for me that isn’t enough. Of course, there are authors who are challenging the Steampunk stereotype. Frankly, I look forward to seeing that aspect of the subgenre develop more fully.

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• It’s All Happening

  Conventions and Conferences

  William Miller: I have to go home.
  Penny Lane: You are home.
  –from Almost Famous

  Conventions work best for people with a touch of extravert in them. I love conventions. I wouldn’t be where I am without them either.* But before you go to the trouble of reading this entry, I’d recommend reading the previous one: “Getting the Most Out of Your Time on This Planet.” It covers the subject (and networking) in ways that I’ve never been able to get across because I don’t have a corporate sales background. So, go ahead. Read that article. I’ll wait for you here.

  Humm-hum-hum. La-la-la-hold music. Hum. Hum.

  Okay. Done reading? I’ll continue, then.

  For new writers, conventions are long term investments. They aren’t for people who are into instant gratification. Conventions are not ‘marketing opportunities.’** They’re for meeting people, learning, and making new friends. The other stuff, the business stuff comes after–sometimes years after and sometimes not at all. For example, a good friend of mine just heard from his agent that an editor my friend met at a convention years ago remembered him. My friend made a good impression as a serious student. As a result, the editor in question asked to see my friend’s manuscript last week. This is how it works. Meeting people gets your face and demeanor linked with your name–or at a workshop, your work. That, provided you weren’t obnoxious, will send you to the top of a slush pile. Otherwise, SFF conventions are about making friends, seeing good friends, and long chats about the things we love.

  As a new writer, there is a great deal you don’t have control over. It sucks, but get used to it. (Hell, as a professional writer there’s a great deal you’ve no control over.) For your own mental health, it’s best to focus on the biggest thing that you can control: your writing. Take all the opportunities you can to learn from others. Talk. Listen. Read. Absorb. It’s an opportunity to find out how others, who have achieved what you wish to achieve, made it in the business. Since there are all sorts of paths that work, you really don’t know which one will work for you. Consider such discussions research. But understand that conventions are about creating the potential for connections. You’ve no control over what form a connection will take. So, it’s best to relax, be yourself, and have a good time. People who treat conventions like their moment to stand with their sandwich-board sign and hawk their wares (from what I’ve observed) tend to have the least fun and therefore, get the least out of the experience. No one wants to talk or listen because no one enjoys a high-pressure sale–at least no one I’ve ever met. Think about it.

  ————————

  *Of course, conventions aren’t the only reason. Working in a bookstore for six years was another factor as was working my ass off learning all I could about writing, practicing writing, writing, and more writing, and reading, reading and reading. Rejections, feedback, and workshops were also big factors, but hard work and determination were the biggest.

  **And, for the love of Pete, please understand that writing workshops are not marketing opportunities either. They’re work-shops. They’re for learning about writing as well as learning how to give and receive a critique of your work.

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• So Alive

  From airships to jet packs--The best flying machines.

  This is terrible, but I don’t have a favorite flying machine. Well… unless you count Columbia (Apollo 11.) I liked the WWII bombers with the tiger’s teeth painted on them when I was a kid. (I’ve no idea what make they were.) I still think those things are pretty cool looking. However, they don’t compete with Columbia (Apollo 11.) I remember watching Neil Armstrong bounce around in moon dust and thinking, “Damn. I want to do that.” Yeah. Not so much. First hurdle? I’m afraid of heights, and I’m a touch claustrophobic. Bad combo. Still, it was exciting and inspiring to watch. I’d even go so far as to say life-changing. Because 1969 was the year when Sci-fi dug its hooks in just bit deeper. Apollo 11 made just about everyone I knew believe anything was possible. Science meant hope for the future. Science meant an end to hunger, war, ignorance, poverty, and fear. I miss that optimism and that sense of wonder. Apollo 11′s Columbia will always represent that to me.

  Of course, people forget the world was in turmoil then as much as it is right now. There was the dark side to the space race because the race in question wasn’t science for science’s sake. It was, let’s be honest, science being used against the Russians. Adults were terrified of the emerging generation — that was the year of Woodstock, after all. Those hippies were uneducated, over-educated, irresponsible, jobless, lazy, spoiled, and down-right dangerous. It was also the year the Troubles started in Northern Ireland, and the year student protestors were shot dead at Kent State. The fight for civil rights for persons of color had just settled into an uneasy stall after the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr. the year before. The women’s rights movement was gathering steam. (Roe v. Wade was four years coming, and women had had use of the Pill for less than a decade.) There was a lot of hostility toward women due to the feminist movement — a lot. The Vietnam War was in full swing. (1955-1975.) I could go on and on. And I can’t help thinking it’s no coincidence that Columbia was also the name of the second space craft that had a huge effect on me. To this day, I can’t really think about it without tearing up.

  Anyway, does any of this tension, this sense of danger, sound familiar? People have a tendency to glorify the “good old days.” I’m here to tell you that’s bullshit. For me, Apollo 11′s Columbia symbolizes that tumultuous time when anything could happen… and did. So, much good came out of the struggles of that era.

  I firmly believe that we have the same opportunity now.

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• My Answer is e) All the Above

  Inspiration or Calculation? How do you decide what you are going to write?


  Once upon a time a creative writing teacher told me that all stories had to have outlines. As a result, I thought I couldn’t be a writer because I have a very difficult time working with outlines. My brain simply doesn’t work that way. Years and years passed before I discovered that writers work in all sorts of different ways, and they’re all valid. (If someone tells you there’s only one way to write — run, don’t walk to the exit.) Also? I’ve written six novels so far, and every novel is a bit different from the last one. (Some are more different than others.) You’re working with your subconscious, and your subconscious sometimes can get a bit tricksy with you because… well… everyone has their insecurities. (Get used to it. You’ll be facing them every time you look at a blank page or computer screen.)

  That said, I’m an organic writer for the most part. I get a scene in my head and then I follow the characters around until things start to jell. That’s what it feels like. I’m spying on my characters and jotting down the things they say. Sometimes I get ideas ahead of time for how things should work, and I write those down. Once it’s down on paper or in the computer, I can safely think about other things. Often, my husband and I go on long walks around the neighborhood and talk about the story. He’s not only my alpha reader, but my idea wall — I bounce ideas off him. (I can tell you the neighbors have given us an odd look or three. Oh, the conversations we’ve had in public.) The thing to remember is that writing is in the re-writing. Type whatever comes to mind. Polish it later. It’s okay to suck. Just write. Eventually, I end up with enough to stop and plan. (Usually, this is the famous “middle muddle.”) Where is the story headed? Where does it need to go? What do the characters want? What best serves the story? That’s when the planning comes in. I need to know what the ending is before I get there. That said, sometimes the characters throw me for a loop and that’s the fun part. I know I’m in a good place when that happens.

  Books are different than short stories, by the way. I have to know everything about a short story before I start writing, and I guess that’s why I don’t write them often, but they’re great practice. They make you focus on the ending. Most beginners focus on writing beginnings over and over and hardly ever write endings. That’s why endings — good endings are hard.

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• Meet the New Boss, Same as the Old Boss

  From Hunger Games to The Windup Girl. Is Dystopia the new black?

  

  Before I launch into today’s topic I want to make sure we’re clear in our definitions. Dystopia is (according to wikipedia) “–is the idea of a society in a repressive and controlled state, often under the guise of being utopian, as characterized in books like Brave New World, Nineteen Eighty-Four, and more recently, The Hunger Games. Dystopian societies feature different kinds of repressive social control systems, various forms of active and passive coercion.” This is not the same thing as post-apocalyptic fiction. In post-apocalyptic fiction, society falls apart and chaos reigns. One is about oppression. The other is about chaos. Yes, there are stories and novels which combine the two and blur the definitions — nothing wrong with that, but I feel it’s very important to remember the actual meaning behind the words. Why? Because dystopian fiction is a tool used by the left to criticize the right. While post-apocalyptic fiction is generally used by the right to criticize the left. They’re two very distinct points of veiw. I believe in checks and balances. We *need* both points of view. Neither should be totally in charge. As one of my favorite dystopian writers, George Orwell, said, “Absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

  (more…)

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• Another World, Another Time, In the Age of Wonder

  From Middle Earth to Dying Earth: How to create SF and Fantasy settings.

  That title is a Crystal Method “Trip Like I Do” reference. Did you notice? Some of you understood right away from that reference that I listen to electronic music (or at least had listened to it) without my ever telling you so up front, and therefore, got a peek into my everyday life in a flash. The fact that it’s a song that came out in 1997 could indicate a million other things. Think about it. It definitely indicates I live in a time and place where computers and electronics are an important cultural factor. The deal is, it’s a telling detail. That is world-building. Creating a believable fantasy setting isn’t about sketching a detailed map and writing 1200 years of history and then infodumping that onto the reader in a wordy prologue — although that information can be helpful to the writer. Creating a realistic setting is like research, in that it too is an iceberg of information with which the writer is intimately familiar and the reader only experiences the tiny bit that appears above the waterline.

  Fantasy (and Sci-Fi too) is one part escapism. The reader signs on to be a tourist of an imaginary (or in my case, not so imaginary) world. It is the writer’s job to make that world as real for the reader as they can. At the basic level, the senses are the most obvious way to do this: what colors are predominant? What plants? Animals? Architecture? Climate? How do people dress? Fashion is a big factor, like it or not. Music too. What is the culture like? What is the ecology like? How about the economics system? Class system? Language? Food? And with each one of these factors comes a great big “Why?” Always remember that no detail exists in a vacuum. All of them knot together and affect one another. Don’t forget smell. Science has proven that the sense of smell is the most powerful memory trigger for human beings, bar none. Take advantage of that fact. Remember telling details are far more potent than broad strokes of the writer-brush. The detail you touch on and your reader fleshes out for themselves is the detail that will hit them the hardest. Also remember that Readers relate to characters. They can’t relate to settings. So, show your world through your characters’ senses — all their senses, including touch.

  The job of creating a realistic setting is overwhelming. The sheer amount of data required to make a setting work well is vast. A quick study of perception will tell you that right away. Sitting in front of your computer reading, there are millions of bits of information that your brain takes in and either dumps as unimportant or bubbles up to your consciousness. Are you in a coffee shop? Think of all the smells around you. Then the sounds. Are you at work? At home? Each bit of data says more to you than the surface information. That voice you hear in the cube next to you? Is it your boss? Or a coworker? What is your relationship like? Then there’s all the cultural data that goes with that and so on. One sound can lead to a million points of data you don’t conciously think about but know and react to automatically. For example, if the voice belongs to your boss, your gut might tighten up or your shoulders get tense. Now think of that information in terms of a fantasy setting. There’s a reason I’ve seen more would-be writers get buried in the sheer amount of data needed to create a realistic world. However, you don’t need to know absolutely everything. You do need to know what is important.

  To use film as an example: Ridley Scott is well known for the amount of layering that goes on in his sets. If you pause at one of the scenes in Bladerunner, you’ll see old paperwork tossed on top of the ceiling in Deckerd’s boss’s office. You’ll see an old west lampshade with buffalo hunters painted on it. (A very telling detail, that.) You’ll see dirt and grit and a million little things stacked on other things — each doing their part to make the scene real even if viewers only see it for a brief second. However, at its base, that futuristic police station is based on a present day police station. That’s the short cut. And that’s how you have to think as a writer. And no, that need isn’t strictly limited to fantasy writing.

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• It Takes a Village

  Trusted Collaborator or Annoying Schoolmarm?

  It’s a good idea for anyone who thinks they want to be a professional fiction writer to learn the ins and outs of the business from different angles. Reading slush, selling books at a bookstore, and working as an editor — even for a short while — all give you a better perspective. Seeing behind the curtain will let you know what to expect from others as well as what is expected of you. That’s why a number of us have been editors. I’m not cut out to be an editor, but that two years (the first year was spent reading slush) was definitely not wasted.

  My husband says I don’t do rough drafts. (I disagree, of course.) But to be honest, I really do edit the living snot out of my work before anyone sees it. I pass things through my husband and a couple of beta readers after him. Then my agent sees it. I came out of the workshop school, and I like feedback because it’s been proven to me over and over again that my perspective of my own work isn’t always so good. (Sometimes I’m my own worst enemy.) If you ask me, every author needs at least a second set of eyes to go over their work. For that reason, a great editor is a priceless treasure. They’re what a conductor is to a symphony performance. They know when to dampen something down and when to punch it up. (The crazy thing is, they make it look so effortless.) Working with a great editor means seeing how your work can POP and being amazed. At the same time, working with a bad editor is a total nightmare. At best it becomes an ego battle. At worst they can destroy your manuscript. The trouble is, you won’t really understand the difference until you’ve experienced both.

  A good copy editor is a whole other animal and every bit as vital — particularly in my case. Copy editors are the ones who check your grammar and punctuation and make your work conform to the publisher’s standards. (There are certain details that some publishers handle differently than others.) They’re to make sure your meaning is clear to the reader. They also check for inconsistencies in continuity. (Sometimes that’s a different person — sometimes it’s the same.) I’ve learned a lot from my copy editors so far, but I’ve been lucky. I’ve had two good ones, but I’ve heard horror stories about more than one set of STET wars from authors with more experience.

  In neither case is an editor there to re-write the story how they would tell it themselves. It’s important to be able to discern the distinction between someone trampling over the work versus someone who is perfecting it. That’s one of an author’s toughest jobs — knowing when to let go and trust, and when to take a stand.

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• True Love

  Reading Habits of a Writer

  They say the key to success and happiness is to do what you truly love — whatever that is and they’re right, but love is tricky as we all know. Sometimes it’s difficult to tell the difference between infatuation and love. (There’s always a catch, isn’t there?) So it is that it will come as no surprise to most of you (hopefully) that writers read. Seems fairly obvious when you think about it. Artists enjoy looking at art so much that they pretty much live in it 24/7. Musicians are the same. I promise Jim Hensen loved every little thing about puppetry — even the things that made him just a bit crazy or frustrated. Writers, real writers, are the same way about writing. We love good writing* with every fiber of our being. So, again I say, writers are readers. If you’re wondering if you’re a writer, I’ll give you a hint. If you read, if you have a book or a poem or a short story crammed in your pocket/handbag most of the time, if you talk about stories at least a couple of times a day, if you glory in the feel of paper bound in book form and are thrilled with the texture of the cover, if you’ve ever given up lunch in order to buy a book or an eBook, if you’re interested in everything about publishing, even the bits that make you want to scream, you’ve got the heart of a writer. If you don’t, you just don’t.

  All writers have their writer heros. I’ve a long list, and it grows every year. Ray Bradbury tops it because he was the first to teach me the astounding beauty of language and story working together as a whole. Charles Dickens showed me how story can be used to create change. Madeleine L’Engle made me fall in love with science fiction. Mark Twain taught me about the power of humor. From Charlotte Brontë I learned the joy of words and how to use layers of meaning in every word. Kurt Vonnegut taught me the importance of rhythm and of positive and negative space in writing. Stephen King illustrated the flawless use of gritty reality entwined with fantasy to get reader buy-in. Charles de Lint taught me wonder and spirit. Adrian McKinty helped to teach me Irish dialog. So did Gerard Brennan and a whole host of other Irish crime writers. (Speaking of dialog, I feel I have to mention Joss Whedon as one of my favorite dialog teachers.) There are many, many others. I’m always looking for new instructors. It’s important. There’s so much to learn. One of the most amazing and frustrating things about writing is that you’ll never learn everything there is to know, and one of the most worrisome is that it’s so easy to forget your lessons.

  What am I reading now? (more…)

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• One of These Things is Not Like the Others

  Novels VS Movies

  If there’s one thing I think people should understand regarding adaptations, it’s that films and novels are two different creative mediums. It’s much like how computer monitors display color versus how printed materials handle color — the two will never match exactly. (see subtractive color vs. additive color) Really, my only requirement is that the film should not go against the heart of the novel.

  My favorite film of all time is an adaptation that has little to nothing to do with the novel on which its based. Yes, I’m talking about BladeRunner. I adore the sets, the aesthetic, the actors, and the themes. The P.K. Dick novel on which it was based? Well, I read it after seeing the film, and well… not so much. (Of course, that was BWP –before writing professionally– and that is a whole other kettle of water breathing critters.) Another top favorite is V for Vendetta. It isn’t the graphic novel, exactly. (That’s set in the 1980s and made commentary on the Margaret Thatcher regime not the Bush administration.) Dune (the David Lynch version and not the Alan Smythee version) is an adaptation I enjoy but would normally be classified as a failure by most Herbert fans. I’d read the novel in seventh grade and liked it. However, I loved the film’s costumes, acting and sets. I loved the way the future was visualised – as a period with a history with necessary grittiness. (Everything cycles, particularly within fashion and interior design.) I liked the added details of the move from one planet holding to the next: the family dog sitting next to Junior in the moving van. It felt like a real family re-location. But then I’ve never believed in the sterile, gleaming steel and plexiglass version of the future that had been portrayed in SF up to that point. Human beings don’t live like that. Never have. Never will. Of course, the end jumps the shark, but that’s a fault of the novel too, frankly. For the record, I quite liked what Peter Jackson did with The Lord of the Rings. I had issues with a couple things he did, but largely, I understood why he did them.

  Adaptations I hated? The most recent rendition of The Stepford Wives. Talk about ruining the heart of the novel. Ick. The Postman film took one of the only pro-feminist post-apocalypse novels in existence (if not the only) and made it into a macho-man, chest-beating extravaganza. (Although, Tom Petty made up for a little of that bullshit.) I was furious. (Don’t get me started on the post-apocalyptic sexism trope.) And The Wizards of Earthsea TV series? Let’s pretend that crap never happened, shall we? Ugg. I could go on, but I’ll stop here.

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