Stay Updated: Posts | Comments

Posts Tagged "Writing"

  • And so we come to gender roles in popular culture, about which many things could be said, but my housemate (a man) sent me the image below to get the ball rolling. I’ve seen a few variations of it kicking about the internet, but this one was especially pertinent given that it depicts comic book heroes.* And it does serve to highlight the general ridiculousness, and narrowness, of how women are portrayed in the media and popular culture.

    What if all the male characters looked like the female one?

    Gender roles is a topic that comes up over and over in conversation with friends, but it feels like it’s been more prevalent than ever in recent months (or perhaps that’s the influence of Caitlin Moran’s deeply excellent How To Be A Woman, a must-read for everyone, wherein she speaks upon Brazilians and the size of knickers amongst other things. In fact, if I could just quote from Caitlin Moran for the rest of this post, it would make life easier. She also makes me feel better about using copious quotas of exclamation marks).

    (more…)

    Read More...
  • The ever inspirational Maria Popova (@brainpicker) today tweeted this gem, which inspired the title of my blog for this week. And today, with tributes flooding in for Maurice Sendak, it also seems an appropriate day to think about the call of the wild things.

    Aged seven, I intended to be a vet. In view of a general aversion to anything involving gore, this was always destined to be a distant aspiration, but me and my best friend of the time harboured strong delusions of becoming the next David Attenborough and walking the planet in search of Amur leopards and the like. I would still like to walk the planet in search of Amur leopards, but I’ve realized that a life of surgery, even upon cute furry things, is not for me. I have however become a gardener, and it’s a constant surprise how much enjoyment it brings me.

    Fox visitor

    ... the local wild things also like hanging out in the garden (any excuse for a cute fox picture must be taken)

    Yesterday the folk over at Pornokitsch put out a call for favourite childhood reads, and I cited The Animals of Farthing Wood – a story about a group of animals who have to band together and seek a new home when their habitat is destroyed. This also got me thinking. I might have added Watership Down, but the tragedy of furry rabbit deaths makes it too heartbreaking a book for a favourite. I wouldn’t define myself particularly as a writer of eco-tastrophy, but considering the evidence, it does seem inevitable that I would end up being influenced by environmental issues. (more…)

    Read More...
  • It appears we have reached the week where I have to fess up to being a complete wuss, because if there’s one thing I refuse to read or watch, it’s horror.

    I don’t know if I always used to be this bad, or if things stay with you longer as you get older, but I blame it on having a vivid imagination. No doubt this is a useful thing in many aspects of writing, but in this instance it does not serve me well. The moment you can put yourself in someone else’s shoes – the moment you start to empathize – that’s when the chill creeps in. That’s when you imagine the same thing happening to you, be it being stalked by a psychotic serial killer or an attack of surprisingly sized arachnids, and that’s when things start to linger. For the *insert-your-greatest-terror-here-please* is not content to rest within the pages of the book or the frame of the film – oh no. This is merely the beginning of its lifespan. After that, it will creep into the twilight hours and perch at the edge of your brain. It will loiter there for a while, testing, teasing. And finally, when you are on the verge of sleep, or have woken with that 4.48 psychosis, then the *insert-your-greatest-terror-here-please* chooses to spring, in all its full paranoia! It may disguise itself as the curtains, the shadow cast by the lamp, the dressing gown draped over the back of the door, the dust-chasings of the cat! However it chooses to manifest itself, you can be sure it’ll hang on for dear life. Say farewell to sleep. (more…)

    Read More...
  • This week we’re discussing: why write fantasy? But perhaps the question should be, why not write fantasy? As a lover of the fantastic, I’ve never really understood the viewpoint ‘I don’t read fantasy or science fiction because it’s not real’. The subtext to this inevitably seems to be and therefore what’s the point? To which I would say: firstly, that’s the whole point! Fantasy is escapism! It’s an abundance of imagination and wonder in a few hundred pages and it’s also fun! Why would you not want to read fiction like that?

    And secondly I’d say: you’re right, it’s not real, at least not in the literal sense. But if you peer a little deeper into the mirror, reading fantastical fiction is often about reading between the lines as much as what’s offered up on the page.

    I’ve tried writing mainstream or contemporary fiction and it’s never quite clicked for me. I always want to go off at a tangent. I spent eighteen months living in Paris, and ever since leaving I’ve wanted to write about it, but I didn’t want to write exclusively about my experiences – I wanted to add another dimension. Something dreamy and fantastical. Something unexpected. (And I did actually draft that novel, but I guess it’s going to be sitting in a drawer for a while now.) I think this is why I love Murakami so much – you think you’re in an ordinary world, and suddenly you realize you’ve landed in a whole other dimension.

    I’m a reader and writer of fantastical fiction because it’s a joy to read and to write. Because it conjures other worlds. Because it places no limits on the imagination. Because it’s full of possibility. Because you can do anything and go anywhere with it. If everyone was confined to writing what they knew, fiction would be a much duller sphere. (more…)

    Read More...
  • I’m always been interested by authors who co-write, because it’s something I can’t imagine doing. I don’t think I could give up the level of control needed to collaborate, even though collaboration can be incredibly inspiring. Writing feels like a solitary pursuit, and if it were a full time job (oh far, far distant goal!), I don’t doubt that I’d find it a lonely one as well. For me, writing is vocational; something I always have done and always will do, whether as a professional career, for friends and family, or only for myself. When I write, I put a piece of myself on the page. You can call it heart, soul, worldview – but it’s both the creation and reflection of a certain period of my life, be that a week or five years. Writing is a way of reaching out, searching for people who share a way of thinking, a way of perceiving and understanding the world. The process of writing is solitary, but it’s ultimately about connection. And of course, when you do find someone who connects with what you write, that’s amazing.

    Producing work I feel is worthy of being read, however, is inevitably a long road of self-doubt and self-critique. I have moments of believing I’ve written something amazing and moments of believing it’s utterly diabolical. Often those thoughts are about the exact same paragraph. So writers may be lone wolves, but we need perspective. We need someone to say: ‘You know what? That’s okay. That’s working.’ And occasionally: ‘That, my friend, is really not working.’ Willing friends help: my go-to lady is the marvellous Clare Bullock, who has cast an eye over various works-in-progress for me over the years, and invariably offers sound editorial advice. But there’s only so much feedback you can ask for, and the other thing I find useful is workshops.

    (more…)

    Read More...
  • Paul Tobin

    This week’s theme is the wolf pack of… one?

    Meaning, when writers go about the task of crafting a novel, are we writing in a vacuum, staring at the walls and lost in our own thoughts, with no knocking on any of our mental doors or outside influences crawling through the windows and catching us at the computer in our underwear? Or… do we participate in writer’s groups and workshops, sending material to beta readers or asking our Ouija boards if our characters should make love or make war, and also pleading with the spirits to make sure we don’t accidentally use your when we meant you’re?

    I think the answer to all of this is… yes. A novelist is alone. Everything is blank before you. And everything is blank UNTIL you. Every word that’s on the page, every single sentence, every character that’s pulling a trigger, every barista who’s blowing a kiss, every woman with a dagger behind her back, every spaceship that’s crash-landing, every villain that’s stepping from the shadows, every pair of underwear on the floor and every yeti that’s trapped in the outhouse… that’s all you. None of that happens until the writer says it does. If a writer doesn’t put it down on the page, then none of this ever happens. The girl never gets kissed. The spaceship never enters orbit. The story never develops and sasquatch is saved from an embarrassing predicament.

    You’re a writer. You’re alone. (more…)

    Read More...
  •  

    What better way to start an introductory post than a quote from James Bond?  That it’s said in Sean Connery’s accent is a bonus, a bonus that offsets the fact that it comes from one of the, ah, lesser Bond films (Diamonds Are Forever).  I’m hyperbolizing, of course–blogging isn’t really Hell (at least, not yet–talk to me under a tighter deadline).  In fact, since I get to offer my opinions on things, it may be closer to Heaven for me…and the rest of you, too.  We may disagree from time to time, but we’ll laugh, we’ll cry, these blogs will become a part of us.  Really.  It’s gonna be a fun ride. 

    Trust me.

    My name is Thomas Morrissey, and I’m one of the new authors at Night Shade Books.  My first novel, FAUSTUS RESURRECTUS, is being published today, Tuesday, April 3.  It’s a Supernatural Noir Thriller, a terrific read with elements of thriller, horror, mystery and romance, and is the first of a series featuring Donovan Graham, occult scholar (MA in Philosophical Hermeneutics–the study of interpretation and the search for truth), bartender (in midtown Manhattan), biker (motorcycle, not Schwinn) and (occasional) stoner.  Kind of an eclectic mix, but hey–write what you know.

    So who am I?  

    (more…)

    Read More...
  • A writer comes to many realizations. Sometimes it’s about how best to schedule writing time, or how to be true to characters, or pacing, or all those other tools we all need but which are often boring to sit down and master. Hopefully, though, not all of a writer’s realizations are

    Paul Tobin

    about his or her writing. There’s a chomping lot of LIFE that needs to go into a novel, and that life needs to be raw. It has to be real. A writer needs to give a novel some teeth… because a good novel is a mirror that bites back.

    My novel, PREPARE TO DIE, was written in a mad haze of realization. I was gleefully slamming words down onto the page, letting them sort themselves out, because as any writer knows… the words are often smarter than we are. Characters and events, once given the nudge, will take matters into their own hands. I can’t guess the number of times I’ve been working on a project and I’ve referred to my outline and was well on the way to implementing the next piece of the organized skeleton when a character all but looked up from the page and said, “Sorry, Paul. There’s no way in hell I would do that. Either think of something else or, even better, hand me the keys. You’ve given me life, and I can handle this.” So, while Character A was once going to date character B, and Character Z was going to die, suddenly Character A and Character Z are stripping each other naked, and Character B has far too strong a will to die.

    But then, in this new alignment, everything suddenly makes sense. Before, it was a trudging trek, and now it’s an adventure. It’s a story.

    (more…)

    Read More...
  • There are two ways to look at publishing your first novel.  My friend Mark Lawrence looks at it this way: you have already won the lottery. With so many good writers out there, and agents and publishing houses drowning in submissions, somehow you got your book noticed, and not only  noticed, but in print and on shelves. Everything else that happens after that is a gift. (He says this while simultaneously writing a best seller, designing a rocket ship, and saving his children from terrorists.)

    I take a more stressful view: this first book is a chance, a foot in the door, a job interview. After that, you could be a writer for real. You just have to learn to write for a deadline; suck creativity out of your overtired, depressed, distracted head; learn how to write a good sentence the first time instead of the fifth; be professional and adult when discussing your work (harder for me than I originally believed); and come up with a good idea more frequently than once every five years.

    Because Mark is right: the first book is a sign of incredible luck. But I think the second book (or trilogy, if you write SFF) is a sign that you are a writer. (more…)

    Read More...
  • Ah, conventions. They sound like such fun. Great costumes, parties, roleplaying games with everyone’s favorite authors—who wouldn’t want to go? Well, a shy person like myself. The best thing about being an international person of mystery is that nobody knows who I am. No phone calls, no author readings, no book signings: so far I have loved it. But I also know that the writing community is just that – a community – and that one day I will join it in person.

    Even so, I imagine my first venture into conventions this way: I will attend a few panels (“Chronological Dissonance: Modern Archetypes & Morals in a Historical Setting” and “Science Fiction & Religion: How Readers and Writers Mix the Two”—both from past cons—are what I imagine), then run off to a museum by myself or else hole up in my room, writing. (more…)

    Read More...