Book review: "The Beast of Talesend"

Beaumont & Beasley, Book 1

Some people will call this a "Beauty & the Beast" retelling, which it definitely isn't.  (Indeed, that tale is specifically referenced as a story within the text.)

Instead, it's a wonderful fantasy adventure that uses elements and iconography from that classic fairytale (among others) to tell a fun and whimsical new adventure.

Like one of my favorite TV miniseries (The Tenth Kingdom) this first in a new series of books is set in the fairytale kingdoms many years after the famous events.  Except in this case, thousands of years have passed, causing the tales to become legends many no longer believe in.

One such skeptic is Nick Beasley: a so-called "magical detective" who makes it his business to debunk instances of supposed supernatural occurrences.

And he barely gets paid for his efforts.

"The Beast of Talesend" describes what happens when Beasley gets caught up in events that prove to him the existence of magic without any room for doubt, and places him firmly in the role of sorting out some of these mystical dangers.

While the inciting "twist" comes later than might perhaps be optimal to set up the real story, and is easily guessable by most, I shan't spoil it here for fear of upsetting those who might not have anticipated it.  Suffice to say that a certain occurrence forces Beasley to become part of this magical world despite his natural lack of desire.

What makes this book so entertaining is not simply the "updated fairytale" nature of it (which we've seen before - if not specifically in this form) but rather the pace, the wit, and the loveable characters.

The setting itself is vaguely described - being a sort of "timeless modern" in nature - in a part of the Afterlands transparently modeled after the United Kingdom (with Wales being habitually overlooked again) that clearly expects us to imagine something classic and yet contemporary at the same time.

This follows through to the tone, where Beasley's dry acerbic nature clashes with Cordelia's Jane Austeny plucky-yet-occasionally-proper adventurous spirit.  The dialogue and the first-person narration are easy to read without feeling as though the text has been too modernized for our ears.

The plot is fairly basic, and the villain archetypal rather than layered, but this is all in the service of setting up a fairytale-based world and Beaumont and Beasley's place in it, while moving through a rollicking adventure quest.

Might I have preferred a more complex story worthy of telling in itself?  Perhaps (though future installments may yet provide such a creature) but for a book intended to set up a world, a tone, and designed to emphasize the roles and functions of a specific set of characters, it does its job pretty much exactly right.

And yet because of this book's (deliberately) shallow nature and slight story, I find myself unable to give it the full five stars some might imagine it deserves.  Being something of a stingy mark-giver, I reserve five stars (usually!) for the most exceptional writings, or those that affect me the most deeply.

"The Beast of Talesend" is not striving for such a target, so to not achieve it is a success rather than a failure, in a way.  Four stars without reservation, then, for something so entertaining and breezy to read.

Looking forward to more from these characters!

Buy the book now!

Close third - the cheating POV

Writing is tough.

Even when you've got your plot figured out, your characters, the arcs, all that good stuff.  How do you actually tell the story?

First person?  Third person?  The rarely-used second person?

And beyond that: past tense?  Present tense?

These things can greatly affect the way in which your text is received, the way the human brain processes and interprets the words.  The way the reader experiences them.

And if you're like me, you fall back on the easy one.  Close third.


Actually, I'll admit that I'm exaggerating here for effect.  Someone a while back wanted me to write this blog post, and I finally am getting around to it now.  If I get any comments below, they are sure to be angry ones!  But let me explain.

Third person is more... removed.  Obviously.  You - the writer - are not sitting in the character's head the way you are in first person, where everything is a direct translation of the character's thoughts.  Instead, you are the narrator, describing what the character sees, thinks and feels.

But "close" third: that is somewhat different.  In this POV, the writer is close enough to the character's head that he/she almost conveys it in first person - but not quite.

In essence, it's a way to get the benefits of first person POV without actually having to mess with the

headache that brings with it.  It's cheating.

No, no it's not really cheating.  It's my favorite POV to use - and usually to read, truth be told.  But it sure is easier than being restricted to first person, and can convey more immediacy and relatability than a strict third can.

Plus (and here's where I really rely on the crutch) it allows me the freedom (which I abuse mercilessly) to use my natural tendency toward lengthy, wordy sentences in my role as narrator - while also writing punchy, snappy text in character as the protagonist!

Best of both worlds!

Except in rewrites I always have to tone down this disparity.  At times I can even tell on reading back when I stopped writing for one day and took it up again the next.  One day I may have been extra flowery, the next super-slangy.  Editing is partially about fixing this.

But I still have that leeway.  That flexibility to incorporate my writerly inclinations with my character's more off-the-cuff, stream-of-consciousness way of thinking.

Is that a cheat?  It is the way I do it.

And then I have to fix it.

Killing Your Babies With the Bathwater

For writers, the phrase "kill your babies" is something we are used to hearing over and over.

No, not because we're part of some freaky, Manson-like cult.  This piece of advice is to remind us that sometimes an idea, a character, a sub-plot, can be holding back the work as a whole but we are too fond of it to (as Elsa would urge us) let it go.

A lot of the time you have to "kill your babies".  Throw out the trash that's hurting your fiction, regardless of how much you might have grown attached to it.

And yet, a part of me resists that advice with all of my strength.  Is it just my petty attachment to my (obviously wonderful) ideas getting in my way?  Or is there something wrong with the famous advice?

Probably the former, I'll admit, but allow me to explore this idea somewhat on the page here.  You see, if a writer is unduly attached to a particular aspect of his or her writing, perhaps that "baby" is not holding the story back but is the one part giving it life.

Look, I understand the aphorism.  And I'm sure most of the time it's right.  But sometimes - just sometimes - we might find ourselves throwing out that baby with the bathwater.  What was intended to save the story, by cutting out the parts fighting against it, instead gets rid of the very heart that beat at the center.

A (possibly poor) example, if you will.  Many years ago I was (for the sake of writing practice) attempting to condense five books of David Eddings' "The Belgariad" into one screenplay of 120 pages.

Madness, sure, but it was an exercise.  As I pared it down, and down, and down, it resembled the source material less and less.  Fine then, I said, let's change it to an original work instead, if I'm altering it to that extent anyway.

So I turned this into that, nipping and tucking and snipping until I had a story that resembled "The Belgariad" no more than, say, "The Lord of the Rings".

And yet.  And yet...  One scene remained.  The part where Garion and Ce'Nedra bathe together in the stream.  I couldn't get rid of it, I loved it too much.  But with that piece intact, it was very clearly a "rip-off" of "the Belgariad".  No matter the name changes, the source material shone through.

So the scene had to go.  But I couldn't.  That one scene (small as it is) in one of the 5 books was everything to me.  The lynchpin, the centerpiece, the pivot on which the entire story turned.  To remove that was to pluck the heart from its chest Temple of Doom style, and I could not do it.

Thus I abandoned the screenplay entirely.  Leaving in the bathing scene would make it too reliant on the source material, taking it out killed the entire story stone dead.

For me, in that instance, the baby that needed killing was the story.  It couldn't be done.

I faced a similar issue with "Straw Soldiers" - my first novel.  A mistake (I'll admit it) early on hampered the experience of the book.  And yet getting rid of it would destroy the presentation and development of the main character in the book.

So vital was this element (an element which held back the book quite obviously) that I strongly considered changing the entire premise of the six-book series to accommodate it, to make it no longer a flaw.

When I realized just what I was proposing, I decided this was a baby that could not be killed.  Yes, keeping it in hampered the impact of the novel - I know it did - but taking it out would be worse.  So much worse.

Is killing your babies a good piece of advice?  I'm sure it is.  Just, when you're working on that, make sure that what you're excising is not the heart and soul of your book, your screenplay, your poem.  Maybe sometimes, it's the bathwater that needs changing instead.

Review: "Captain Hawklin and the Skyhook Pirates"

Could also be called:

Sky Captain and the Temple of Doom.

I love a good pulp novel - and a good pulp movie serial as well. Here I get something of both.

For while this book is a tribute to the old pulp works, to me it reads more as a pastiche of the cinematic pulp adventures than the written ones. Indeed, the author seems to say as much in the book itself.

Furthermore, I catch more than a hint of the modern tributes to the pulp classics. For example, it feels more like Sky Captain than it does Sky Raiders. More The Rocketeer than The King of the Rocket-Men.

And that's not a bad thing. A modern sensibility to the period-pastiche is a nice touch which I appreciate. And while it does a good job emulating a 1930s environment (I was able to picture the whole thing in black and white) I personally think it has elements of a more contemporary storytelling style that help it remain relevant to today's reader.

It's not too deep, I'll tell you that. Nor is it trying to be. What this book wants (and what it succeeds at) is to be a rollicking adventure drenched in the spirit of 1930s pulp sensibilities. It is pretty steadily-paced with a plethora of cliffhangers, and it never flags.

Some storytelling problems include very uneven chapter lengths (which disrupt the pacey flow a tad) and a very swift ending which follows a late plot revelation that could have fueled much more story beyond that point.

In addition (and this is the only thing that knocks the rating down a peg) there are frequent (and I mean ubiquitous) typos and punctuation errors. If these bug you too much (and they usually do for me) then prepare yourself because they are impossible to ignore. A lot of word repetition finds its way in as well, though this is a stylistic criticism rather than a technical one.

I don't want to seem down on this work as I enjoyed it a lot (and look forward to reading the sequels which this initial book leaves room to improve upon) but the flaws have to be noted. And they do detract - even if less than they might have.

"The Skyhook Pirates" is intentionally derivative. Don't expect much innovation here. The skill involved here was stitching together various elements to achieve a surprisingly cohesive whole. It ought not to be as good as it is with so many disparate ideas masquerading as one story, but it works dammit. The diversity helps make the plot seem fresh as the story unfolds - like each new chapter of the movie serial has its own character, but is telling one overarching story.

So, yeah. Get it if you like old pulp stories. Avoid it if you don't, because it makes no pretense to be anything other than what it is - and rightfully so.

Very entertaining.

Buy the Book

How to present diversity

Okay, so I've been busy writing my book and not this blog.  Sorry 'bout that.

But an interesting conversation I had on Twitter about presenting your characters that are people of color brought up issues that I have struggled with in the "Sleepwar Saga" series I'm writing now.  The poster made a very good point, and yet I can't say I 100% agree, either.

The Tweeter in question advised writers to state up front the ethnicities of their non-white characters.  The poster said that the presumed-white mentality is so strong that if you don't bring ethnicity up as one of the first things about your character, they will be assumed white by your audience and that view will be hard to shake.

I agree with this, actually.  I think diversity is important - not just in regards to race, but sexuality and physical ability, too - and so it is important that the reader recognizes this about your characters so as to experience the diversity correctly.

However...  I worry about stating up front that a character is black, South Asian, Hispanic, whatever.  Why would that concern me?  Well, for a couple of reasons.

One is that when you're being introduced to a new character, you are absorbing their primary traits in an attempt to understand who they are.  If one of the main traits I choose to mention is that a character is (say) Vietnamese, then the worry (possibly unfounded) is that the reader will pigeonhole that character as "Asian" above and beyond any other attributes.

In other words, they'll remember that the leads include: "the smart one, the athletic one, the nerd, and the Asian chick."

Yes, I can have a well-rounded character with all sorts of subtleties, but if I have prioritized her ethnicity as a defining feature, will the reader do the same?

Also, I never want to "other" my characters.  That is to say, if I feel the need to state one character is black, but never think I have to point out that the others are white, I have singled out "blackness" as aberrant.  I am presenting white as default and describing any deviation from the assumed norm.  And I never want to do that.

Most of the time, I try to describe one characters whiteness for every instance I talk about another character's non-white color.  To ensure that it is a descriptor applied equally and not to demarcate those people who stand out as non-standard.

What, then, is the solution?  Probably what that Twitter poster said, but I still go back and forth.  I don't want to disrespect either my characters or my readers by having race be any kind of defining aspect of my characters.

Their upbringing (of which culture, and society's response to their ethnicity, will be a part) certainly is a strong influence on who they are.  But the color of their skin or the shape of their eyes ought not to be who they are.  On any level, as far as I am concerned.

I like to use strong and unique names for my characters when I can.  If everyone is "Pete", "Dave", "Sandra", "Jill", then it is all too easy for the reader to forget which bland label belongs to which individual.  If they have stronger, less common, names then it is easier to tell them apart.

Luckily for me, this also helps with the dilemma of introducing a character's ethnicity.  In "Straw Soldiers" two minor characters (Kaz's friends at school) were named "Julia Ng" and "Daisy Rivera".  I hope that any reader knows the ethnicities of these girls without being told.

Similarly, my current work in progress features an extremely minor character named "DeShawn" whose skin color I do not feel needs to be stated.  His personality is not a stereotype, but his name is recognizably African American in the way that "Brian" would not be.

This can't be done for every character who is non-white, of course, but on occasion is does bypass the problem I struggle with.

What do you think?  How problematic is it to single out a character's ethnicity for comment?  And how problematic is it not to do so, and have the reader just assume everyone is white?

Inspiration (Part One)

Compensation is 99% inspiration, or so they say.

(No they don't.)

But what exactly is inspiration?  For me, at least, it is certainly not wholesale lifting from other sources.

Most often, an character's arc, or a fantastical element, in one piece of fiction will lead me - stepping-stone-like - to a somewhat related idea that I flesh out on my own to create something brand new.

Sometimes (very rarely) it will be about stealing an idea someone else had.  But in these cases, it's more like turning a throwaway comment into a full-blown novel.  Like reading an offhand remark about 'a YouTube comment by a man who never existed', and then creating from that an entire story about someone who was erased from reality, but gained a second life as a sentient online footprint.

It's not about stealing.  It's about great works of fiction stirring your imagination to create your own (hopefully very different) art.

For this post, I want to talk about my series of pulp science-fiction e-novellas: "The Star Travels of Dr. Jeremiah Fothering-Smythe".

I've talked before about the origins of this series, but basically I wrote an unsolicited spec for a defunct series of pulp e-novellas set in 1970s North America.  At the time, a paperback collected edition was being mooted, but as the project was put on hold, my story (which was strongly being considered for inclusion in the book) went to limbo.

But the experience prompted me to realize that I could write (and would have fun writing) my own series of pulp adventures, of a similar length.  At the time, I thought I could bang them out one a month at a decent quality (provided I went into the thing with a sufficient number of ideas) and because of my love of Victorian-era pulp SF, I immediately conceived the story of a gentleman of the era finding himself on a journey through outer space, becoming an unlikely hero as he floundered his way through the cosmos to make it back to Earth.

The action-adventure pulp series I had written for was a main inspiration - but only for tone and format.  The content of my novellas would be quite different.

So what inspired me beyond them?  HG Wells, of course, was a main inspiration, and I sought ought some of his books I had not read up to that point, to immerse myself in the right tone.

Also - and quite in opposition to the staid pacing of late 19th Century literature - I was greatly inspired by (and wanted to emulate) the flow, rhythm, and structure of the Flash Gordon serials starring Buster Crabbe.  Not the newspaper strips (which I liked as well) but the cinematic serialized adaptations.

If I could somehow evoke the fun of those serials, with their frequent cliffhangers, while also emulating the style and content of early SF works that I loved, then I would be onto a winner (as far as creating what I intended to - I never expected, nor received, financial success from those books).

My main influence, though, was a little loved book called "A Honeymoon in Space" by George Griffith.  First published in 1901 (the same year my Victorian gentleman set out on his celestial adventure) this book describes a dashing man who rescues his old flame from an unwanted marriage in his newly-invented spacecraft.  Together the two take to the stars to see what wonders the solar system has to offer.

In its light-hearted and adventurous tone, its fascination with bizarre alien life and how such societies would evolve, and its utter lack of concern for real-life science, I found something I wanted to emulate in spirit - though not in content.  Its resonances with the concerns of the novel "The Time Machine" gave me much fuel for the fires of my creative writing.

Throw this all together with my love of Sherlock Holmes, adventure serials, Edgar Rice Burroughs' Barsoom books, and with just a whiff of steampunk about the whole thing, and you have a series I was very proud to more or less succeed at producing once a month (for the six months it endured).

If you want to, you can buy the collected e-books for Kindle for $5.99.  "The Star Travels of Dr. Jeremiah Fothering-Smythe" - one of my favorite things I have ever had the pleasure of writing.

National No Writing Month

Wow.  I've been gone for a while...

So, many of you will know that for a large number of writers, November was NaNoWriMo: "National Novel Writing Month".  Basically, you set strict word count goals so that during the month of November you write a full (first draft of a) novel.

Pretty cool.  I did my own NaNoWriMo: "National No Writing Month".

Why was that?  A bunch of reasons.  I work retail (managing a shoe department) and the Christmas season is a very busy one, leaving me with little time and energy to devote to my writing.

In addition to that... well, I don't want to get into it too much here, but I'm American and early November saw a major event occur that didn't put me in a good mental state for the next few weeks.  I stayed away from all social media for a while, just to avoid dealing with people and their ways.

You guys know what I'm talking about.

As of now, I still don't have the time or energy to put in any serious writing, but I am going through my notes for The Sleepwar Saga Book 2, soaking up all of the details again.  And I'm steeling myself for a more hard-nosed writing schedule at the beginning of the new year.

If I do this right, I could have a (very rough!) first draft by the end of February no problem.  (But, knowing me, I won't - and the end of March will be the earliest.)  Then comes the real work of rewriting.  Yeuch.

But have no fear: I haven't vanished off the face of the Earth!  And with any luck, I will come out the other side of Christmas refreshed and ready to write better than ever before.

I'll believe that when I see it...

My Journey to Self-Publishing

How does one get started on self-publishing?  Well, I'm sure there are many different paths to that.  Sit down around the campfire, folks, and hearken to my own tale.

It all started with reading; it usually does.

Unfortunately, I shall have to be somewhat vague here as there is still the possibility of something happening with this property, but suffice for now to say that there was an incredibly fun series that I was a big fan of.  It was a pulp-style, 70s-set, series of e-book-only novellas starring an entertaining character in a crazy world where it seemed like anything could happen.

They were fantastic, and a lot of fun, but unfortunately a lack of interest caused the series to come to a close eventually.  This disappointed me, but it was not unforeseen.  A niche product like that will be limited in its appeal, but if it - by chance - finds that target audience then it can really take off.  This one didn't (quite).

Some time later, I (who have always been a writer since my youth, even if I had never sought out publishing in any way before) contacted the creator of this series and wondered if he would be amenable to me sending a spec manuscript over to him.  I knew the likelihood of the character making a return was low, but I figured I may as well give it a shot - I had a couple of vague ideas for what I would like to do if given the chance.

To my surprise, the creator messaged me, saying that he was actually considering a hardcopy collected version of the stories, and would like some new novellas to be included so as to make the paper version appealing even to those who already owned the stories electronically.  And he was willing to take a look at my submission!

Energized by the possibility of being published even by a small press like this one (especially one whose works I had been such a fan of) I set to writing straight away, using the concept that most interested me out of the few I had conceived.  I finished a 20,000 word story quite quickly, and sent this first draft off to the man in charge.

And this is where things fell apart.  For various reasons, the project was now not a priority in any way - and although he was enthusiastic about the parts of my story that he read, he never finished it or got back to me with any notes.  The book was dead in the water, and took my story with it.

(Or so it seemed: there remains the possibility - I am told - that the book could still happen, so watch this space for news.)

I had fun writing it, though.  A lot of fun.  Indeed, I had so many ideas for subsequent stories in this property that I would have loved to have taken over publishing the stories myself - even at a schedule of one novella per month (I thought).  Despite having had a couple of ideas for novels in my head for a few years (which will be written... eventually) I had never seriously tried to write something for publishing.  Or self-publishing.  But now...

The existing IP was something out of my hands; I knew this.  But what if I invented my own pulp novella series, that I could put out there myself.  Would such a thing be possible?

Indeed it was (a quick bit of internet searching later on showed me) and I spent the idle hours of one day at my job thinking about the possibilities.  Immediately, my love of old-fashioned pulp SF made me think of a concept involving a Victorian gentleman having adventures in outer space.  Perhaps it could be called Josiah Kensington: Space Adventurer?  Or maybe The Star Journeys of Dr Jeremiah Fotherington-Smythe?

Very quickly, this became The Star Travels of Dr. Jeremiah Fothering-Smythe, and I set about giving myself a target of 18,000-22,000 words per story, at a rate of one per month.  I would give it six months to have a chance of catching on, of finding an audience, and if after that it was going nowhere then I would end it.

Anyway, fast forward to six months later (during which I had also written a couple of other novellas or short stories) I completed the series with Book 6: "The Free World".  As expected, it had not found its audience and, much as I adored the character and his world, I wrapped up the story.  I had ideas about where the story could go later on, should it unexpectedly find a late following, but for now it was done.  (A paperback and eBook collected version was later released.)

Quite disheartened, I decided to treat all of the previous time as warm-up.  Like it didn't happen.  I wanted not to think of that as wasted effort, but instead as little more than rehearsal.  The real writing, the real career, would start now.

Looking for something that could theoretically be commercial but that I would still be just as in love with, I devised a series of Young Adult novels called The Sleepwar Saga.  In it, a group of six teenagers who don't know each other would find that, when they slept, they were together in another part of the country.  Fighting evil, questioning their reality, learning to work together.

It took some 8 months before the final draft of Straw Soldiers was ready, but it is the work I am most proud of, and I'm ecstatic about it and the rest of the series to come.  Whether this find its audience or not I cannot yet say, but even if it does not I will be thrilled to write the rest of the installments, so in love am I with this series and these characters.

Other books fight for idea space in my head, however.  There's the fun Lawyers vs Zombies: The Legal Dead which I can't quite forget about, ever.  The Universe Device was actually plotted out to a great degree and ready to be written, until I decided that I needed more novels under my belt before I could attempt that one.  (The structure is more complex than I feel I can do justice to yet.)

I also have a Christian thriller in mind, a sci-fi murder mystery, and a few horror shorts that I began but lost track of when I didn't feel I was quite hitting the mark.  (I'll get back to them later.)

I love writing.  I love self-publishing.  I hope someday I can focus on it as a career, instead of that thing that takes up all of my time when I'm not at my "real" job.

But it never would have happened if I hadn't been inspired to contact the creator of a book series I loved and asked about writing for his characters.  I'm so glad I did.



Some links for people looking into self-publishing:
Amazon's Kindle Direct Publishing
CreateSpace for the paperback version
Draft2Digital or Smashwords (which I haven't used, but are important if you don't want to be Kindle-exclusive)

Defining Characters by Groups

A little trick I taught myself when writing screenplays was not to rely on defining a character as himself or herself, but to define each person in relation to the others.

To some extent, this applies to prose as well - not as much to POV characters as to others, but even then it can be helpful.

But let me back up a little.

In print, the reader has access to the POV characters' innermost thoughts and feelings. What this means is that it is not only their actions that define them, but what goes on inside their heads.

On screen, this is not so.  Nor is it for characters on the page whose thoughts the reader is not privy to.  What does this mean for the writer?  Allow me to explain my thoughts.

No matter what work you put into a character's design - their backstory - what matters to the reader is what they see.  If the things you invented do not impact the story, the reader sees none of it and your detailed character bio results in nothing but a 2D stereotype that the eye merely glances over and forgets.

An example: your main characters stop at a sandwich shop three days a week for lunch.  You have a beautiful bio drawn up for the guy behind the counter.  He fought in Operation: Iraqi Freedom - two tours - but when he came back he was a changed man, tortured, haunted, and his wife left him.  Since then, he has become a Buddhist and is seeking inner peace and enlightenment.  His father back in Idaho is dying of cancer, but the sandwich man can't leave his job to go and take care of Dad because he needs the money.

How does this manifest on the page?  "Here's your sandwiches, ladies.  Enjoy!"

That's it.  None of the backstory you devised, the intricate personality you worked out in detail, shows itself to the reader, because the story being told has nothing to do with any of it.  In practical terms, he is not any of those things in your bio: he's just the guy who says, "Enjoy."

So what if you define him in relation to other characters.  Maybe he's like the Soup Nazi and is combative with your leads.  Or perhaps he owns the sandwich place with his sister who is a flake and sleeping on his couch, and so every time we are in the sandwich shop there is some nice conflict happening between them.

Even if it's just a little color, it is something.  He's no longer just the guy who hands your MCs their sandwiches; he is a character.

Your other characters can benefit too; it doesn't have to be just bit-parters.  If you have decided that Jack's younger brother was bitten by a poisonous spider and almost died while vacationing in Brazil, unless your plot is about spiders then the most we will see (unless you shoehorn in some dialogue to explain it - which is itself problematic) is Jack staring suspiciously at a spider in the corner of the room.  Not compelling drama.

So start again.  Make Jack a control freak, and Betty a free spirit who is offended by structure.  Together they spark, and will create drama simply from the way they respond to every situation.  This particular example is a cliche, but there's a reason for that: it's a good one.

The point, though, is that while backstory is not a bad thing, if it doesn't show up on the page then it isn't a good thing either.  Define your characters against one another, make it so that the way they behave is in direct contrast to everyone else.  How they respond should not only be about the events of their past, but about how other characters will respond to the same stimuli.

If you want drama, if you want entertaining characters, if you want depth, then that bio sheet alone is probably worthless.  Think about they way every character relates to, and contrasts with, the others.  Know their alliances, their clashes, their romances.  Define the group together, so you know they complement and contrast.

Make good drama that doesn't just exist in theory.  Then write it.

99c sale!

September 15-19

"Straw Soldiers" Kindle edition is on sale for:


99c from the Amazon US store

99p from the Amazon UK store



Pick it up, before this sale ends!

Perfection Minus One

Terry Rossio and Ted Elliott once wrote an article called "Crap Plus One".

In it, they expounded that one of the problems with screenwriters trying to make it in the industry is seeing a terrible movie that got made, and thinking: "Well, I can do better than that!"

The problem is that a bad movie can happen for many reasons, but Hollywood is filled with amazing unmade scripts, and anyone aiming for the level of "crap plus one" will end up with a massively substandard script that will get them nowhere.

The same is true for self-publishers like me.  It is so easy to see a bunch of lousy indie books that have had unexpected success, and to think: "Well, I can do better than that!"

Success happens for a bunch of coincidental and unfathomable reasons.  Sure, it is very possible for a bad book to make a lot of money.  But more often than not (much more often) a bad book will just sit there making nothing very much at all.

You need to aim for the best you can possibly manage.  Only by writing a truly excellent book can you be reasonably in with a shot at hitting that magic cross-section of quality and marketability and chance that creates the hit novel.

But (and here's where I get controversial) there's just as much of a problem the other way.  Aiming for "perfection minus one" will lead to nothing but frustration and eventually giving up.  Unless you're a truly gifted author of the like the world rarely sees, your work will never live up to the standard you demand of yourself if you want "perfection minus one".

The number one reason for my despondency and desire to pack it all in is my failure to write prose the way Vladimir Nabokov did.  Or to create whimsical characters as well as Paul Magrs does.  Or construct immersive, enthralling worlds the way George R.R. Martin does.

I can't do it.  I want to, but it doesn't happen.  And when I refuse to accept anything less than the soaring standards of the world's best writers, I become so fed up with the level of my own talent that I almost decide to just give it all up.  Do something else, something less demanding.  Something where I don't feel like such a freaking failure every single day.

Ben Burtt, sound designer and sometime editor of the Star Wars movies had a saying posted at his work area: "Films aren't released, they escape."  A movie is never 'done'.  It is put out into theaters only because the release date is up and the filmmakers have no other choice.  They would fiddle with it endlessly if given half a chance.

Aim for the best that you personally can possibly do.  Accept your limits - strive to break them - and don't hate yourself when you fail to live up to impossible standards.  Improve every day.  Reach for the sky; just stay grounded.

Be amazing.  But know that you will never be the best, and that's okay.  'Great' is a lot better than 'decent' - even if it isn't quite 'perfect'.

Memorable Supporting Characters

I don't mean necessarily your host of secondary characters.  Sure, you want them to be memorable and full of personality too, but this article is about something else.

I'm talking about the little guys.  The two-liners.  The people that fill out the world your protagonist inhabits.  In most cases, you're going to have a lot of bit-parters who don't have much to say.  But if none of them are interesting to read about, all of those small lines here and there add up to an awful lot of space being filled up by stuff that nobody cares about.

And it's not even a matter of creating a fleshed-out role for each of these either.  Let's face it: no matter how detailed a bio sheet you create for these guys, if the person just sits in an office and contributes an expository line once every hundred pages, that background you invented for them just isn't going to come across to the reader.  At all.

Something I've been thinking about lately are colorful characters in some of my favorite TV shows that were invented just to be these amusing bit-part characters who instantly draw your attention even if they have only one line of dialogue (or no lines).

I think about Starburns on Community.  Just a guy who shaves his sideburns into star-shapes to give himself a visual hook.  Nothing else, but he became a recurring guest character just on the strength of the kooky appeal of this gimmick.

Or the first full-length episode of Nickelodeon classic The Adventures of Pete & Pete.  One of the Petes encounters an antagonistic bully by the name of "Open Face", who only eats open-faced sandwiches.  His cohorts with the meager dialogue include "Gravy Breath" and "Butt-Stripe" (whose bike saddle leaves an identifiable mark).

These are the kind of quirky, colorful extras that can really bring your story to life.  I'm not saying your Steve Jacobs and Jill Watsons have no place - but when all of your characters are such lifeless, dull creations, much of the story's atmosphere is robbed of color.

So yeah.  Why not have that man who points your protagonist in the right direction be a purple-haired punk in an Edwardian suit?  Why not have that office co-worker be nicknamed "The Voice" because she spends all day rehearsing to herself for that reality-show audition she has coming up?  A kid with a raccoon for a pet, a man who only wears fur coats, a teenage girl who only wears teal...

Be creative.  Let your minor characters pack a quick punch.  Fill out your world with people that lend it life, not a thin fog of characterless line-feeders.

Entertainment is your job, writers.  Do that!

Book 2: The Difficult Second Album

Just as with musicians, the sophomore release is in some ways the hardest.

It's partly the artist to blame, and partly the audience.  The first book/album is the culmination of possibly years of creative percolating.  After that, it's time to just get the next product in the assembly line out, and it's likely to be a letdown.

Why is the audience to blame?  Well, in some ways the expectation of something just as amazing as the first installment is impossible to meet.  The consumer is not privy to the long history that first work had prior to its release, and can't fully accept that the sequel is simply not going to have the same creative weight behind it.

But let's face it: it's mostly on us.  The writer, the musician, the movie director.  If we experience the old Sophomore Slump it's because we haven't put the work in that we needed to.

Yeah, it's difficult.  You want any second installment to be the same, but different.  In exactly the right ratio.

It's very easy to make the second book too similar to the first.  I call this the "Chamber of Secrets" effect.  An installment that serves only to reinforce what the author intends to be the "pattern" of the series, and not to add anything artistically new to the pot.  It has a purpose - to say "this is what the series is" - but to the reader this is merely dead space.

And yet, going the other way is even worse.  When the second book is too different to the first, the series loses all cohesion and you lose all of the readers who wanted more of the kind of thing they liked so much about that initial book.

There's a line there.  A very narrow, fuzzy, hard-to-find line.  And that's where I'm walking right now, plotting and inventing, trying my darndest to pull the story of Book 2 out of the mire of swirling possibilities it exists in currently.

If you fail at the second lap, you've lost the race.  This is no time to get complacent.  This, right here, this is the biggest challenge.  And I have to be ready for it.

Putting Together the Puzzle Pieces

I've talked before about being a "Plotter".  I don't write without knowing everything that's going to happen in the story (but leaving room for surprises to happen along the way).

So what does that look like?  Well, for me, in many ways it's like putting together a jigsaw puzzle.

First, you have to decide what difficulty level you're going for, what length of project.  Is it a 200-piece puzzle, or a 550-piece?  Then: is it the picture of puppies, the sailboat, or the bridge of the Enterprise?

After that is the hardest part: starting.  You see, it's not just a puzzle.  It's a puzzle that has been knocked over.

Because you don't have any of the pieces to begin with.  Here and there on the floor you can see a couple of puzzle pieces, but on their own you have no idea what they are or how they fit into the bigger picture.  But following the trail of pieces leads you to more, and eventually you find the motherload: the stash of all the puzzle pieces somewhere underneath the coach.

Of course, the work isn't over yet.  Oh no.  You have to sort through the pieces, find which goes where - tossing out any pieces that you think belong to another puzzle altogether.

It's hard work, this, but satisfying.  You get to see the picture come together.  And it's a fascinating experience, at times, to find that what you thought was a bird's eye is actually a black shirt button, and that edge piece is really an odd-shaped center-piece.

But once the picture is complete, you can start the actual writing, knowing in full what you're going for, what the actual story is.  Because if a character isn't heading for a specific destination, they really aren't headed anywhere at all.

Right now, in planning Book 2 of The Sleepwar Saga, I'm at the early piece-collecting stage.  I have a handful of disparate segments, but I'm just on the verge of them leading me to the main pile of spilled pieces.

And soon will begin the main planning of the book.  And then, the writing.  I just can't write about the basket of puppies without seeing what the completed jigsaw puzzle looks like in the first place - writing about a few loose puzzle pieces just leaves me with a mess of purposeless prose.

My Struggle With Adverbs

Hello.

My name is Doug, and I am an addict.

It's been four days since my last adverb.  Already I find my fingers itchy, desperate to type that beautiful "-ly" at the end of of a word.

Adverbs are not inherently bad; I know this.  Used in moderation they are descriptive and poetic.  But I know I can never use just one.

Sure, it starts with a "softly" or a "wryly".  But before you know it the adverbs are spilling off of the screen and I wake up in a pile of my own vomit, staring at the page I have written in my stupor:

"Hi there," said Fred breezily.
"Hello," Jennifer replied flatly.
Frowning, Fred delicately inquired, "Is everything okay?"
She sighed.  "I guess," Jennifer answered despondently.

Friends don't let friends abuse adverbs.  I need your help.

It's a struggle, but if I can get through today without an adverb, I know maybe I can do the same again tomorrow.  And then the next day.  And the next.

One sentence at a time, my friends.  One sentence at a time...

Plotters vs Pantsers: why you shouldn't choose

You shouldn't choose because, of course, "Plotter" is the obviously correct selection.

I kid, but let me back up a bit:  What are these terms?

Writers tend to use these words to describe the two basic types that make up their group.  "Plotters" plan the story out in advance, and write to an outline.  "Pantsers" make it all up on the fly.

So which is better?  This is what I came here to explain: there is no choice.  You don't decide which path to follow; you learn which group you are already in.

It's not about technique, it's about the way you naturally write.

Some will say that Plotters leave no room for inspiration to hit, or that Pantsers hit writer's block and give up too easily.  Neither of these are necessarily (or even often) true.

Let me lay my cards on the table: I'm a Plotter.  And how.  I can't even start writing until I have every last beat of the story figured out.  I just can't do it.  (Or rather, I can't do it well, which is kind of the point.)  If I try to write without a very sophisticated outline, the story just veers off into nowhere and I have to delete vast swathes of text and start again.

For me, a story needs to have a shape.  I don't just put finger to keyboard and see what comes out.  I know what comes out: nonsense.  A story is about progression, about characters following their nature but encountering hiccups and overcoming them and developing in certain precise and entertaining ways.  If you just let them bumble about doing whatever they feel like, it might be believable but it sure as hell won't be entertaining.

Ah, you may well cry, that is what rewriting is for.  And this is true.  Many writers find the story in the redraft stage and get everything into shape then.  Me?  I'd rather do all that pesky rewriting before the writing has actually started.

It's much easier to redraft a "beat sheet", or treatment, than a 90,000 word document.

But have I abandoned all artistic integrity by sticking to an outline?  Have I hamstrung myself, leaving out all sense of inspiration and become a slave to a blueprint that I have bound myself to?

Not at all.  In those cases where things start developing in ways that contradict my outline (and yet seem potentially more interesting than my outline) I see where that takes me and develop a new outline where necessary.  (Or else realize I was right the first time and return to an earlier file which I conveniently saved when I began to deviate.)

Similarly, Pantsers are not necessarily more prone to giving up due to writer's block than Plotters.  We Plotters have the same writer's block - we just experience it earlier (in the planning stages).  Pantsers, in some ways, have a better reason to just plow ahead and see where the story takes them; if a plotter becomes stuck on how to implement his or her outline then it becomes harder to just power through the blockage.

So neither is necessarily beneficial.  There is no reason to choose between the two, based on merit.  What is important is to find out which of the two you are and do so quickly.  The more time you waste following the wrong technique, the harder it will be to write anything half-way decent.

I legitimately do not understand Pantsers.  How is it possible to craft a comprehensible and entertaining story without knowing where everything is leading?  There are so many strands to a novel that I do not see how a writer can cause them to artistically convene and converge in any kind of believable and satisfying manner by doing it on the fly.

And yet it is done.  Again and again, every single day, by artists whose talent is far above my own.  I couldn't do it, that is for sure.  It's not about choosing, it's about discovering.  And I discovered very early in my life that I can only produce a satisfactory story by doing all the donkey work up front.

You may be the opposite.  You may find that any outlining you do results in a mundane and predictable story that satisfies no-one, and the only way to create something of worth is to sit at the keyboard and figure it all out as you go.

It's not a choice; it's an identity.

Twitter account

Hey all.

Just a quick post to say that I have officially joined Twitter!

Yeah, I'm a newb at this, but follow me on the Twits @jdouglasburton for all the news, and whatever random thoughts pop into my head that can be expressed in 140 characters or fewer.

I have a few ideas for blog posts in the coming days, so keep your eyes on this page as well.

Paperback now available!

That's right, Book 1 of The Sleepwar Saga is now available in genuine Dead Tree form!

It's 6"x9" and 264 pages of awesomeness.  And you should buy it today!

$8.99+shipping from Amazon US

£6.99+shipping if you're in the UK

Or, of course, the Kindle e-book version is still available for $2.99 or £2.49 from the links elsewhere on this blog.

Character diversity in fiction

Diversity is important.

Now, I don't believe in tokenism, but I do believe in representation.  As a straight white male, it is all too easy for me to be blind to the way my 'type' is over-represented in fiction.  That most fiction seems to be directly catered to me, to appeal to me, to feature me.

But having diversity among your characters is not only about representation; it's also just good drama.  What your characters look like might not seem superficially important (in text there is no color) but even if all of the characters are white (or black, or Hispanic, or desi) it is important to make each distinct.

Basically, the less variation the characters' cultural and developmental backgrounds, the less inherent drama there is in their interactions.  Why limit yourself?  No matter how well you define your individual characters, if they all share so many of the same characteristics then there is much less scope for clashes.

For me, as a function of where I live, it is easy for me to create a naturally diverse cast.  I simply look at my friends and co-workers and draw from them - as they are from various backgrounds and ethnicities, so will my own characters be.

Especially the teenagers I work with, since the Sleepwar Saga leads are all teens as well.  As I look to real young people I know from which I can extrapolate brand new fictional versions, I naturally will create a diverse group as that is the culture that surrounds me.  Were I still living in some of the more overwhelmingly white areas I have lived in before, perhaps I would have to work that much harder to ensure I created a realistically and entertainingly diverse cast of characters.

That's not to say I always succeed in my efforts.  Only after the fact did I realize that all six of my leads (and the supporting cast of "Straw Soldiers" as well) are cisgendered hetereosexual able-bodied people.  Clearly this is an area I will need to deliberately focus on if I want to be representative (and to mine all resources for inherent drama).

Actually, one of the characters in "Straw Soldiers" is gay, but as it never came up in the text no one will ever know.

What about gender?  More than half of the world's population is female, so why are so few fictional characters female?  Especially in movies and on TV, but books can be just as guilty.

I want to be diverse.  I want to be representative.  Not just to ensure that straight white men are not the only (or even primary) type that gets stories written for them, but because when drama is all about the way characters clash and interact, why would any writer remove potential for this by limiting the variation among the core cast?

But while sometimes this comes easily, at other times I realize how far I still have to go if I want to meet my goals.  It's so easy to surround yourself with people like yourself - to write about people like yourself - that you just don't notice how insufficient this representation actually is.

What is 'Young Adult' fiction, exactly?

And why write it?

This is just a question I was thinking about lately, and figured I'd jot down some thoughts.  You see, 'genre' is an interesting concept which so many people seem to get wrong.

Genre doesn't define content; content defines genre.

In other words, no good 'Young Adult' book (since that's the category I'm discussing today) began with the author thinking: "I'd like to write a YA novel.  What elements do I need to put in to make it YA?"

Many writers do, indeed, think like that.  But not the good ones.

Writing YA isn't about taking some of the staples of the genre (dystopian future, strong female protagonist, vampires) and figuring out a plot you can build around them.  This only leads to inferior fiction.  No, instead 'Young Adult' fiction is merely fiction that is about being a young adult.

It's about writing your story in such a way that it is defined by the experience of being a teen (or person of similar age).  Not about featuring teenagers; rather, it is about being a teenager.  The entire subjective experience should be the way an actual young person views and chooses in the world.  This is what makes a YA story, not the plot elements.

So why write YA?  Why is the young adult experience such a popular topic for authors and readers alike?  My guess is that the experience of 'coming of age', of being right at the point in one's life where one is transitioning from dependency to autonomy, is simply the most inherently dramatically rich period to form a story around.

This is a time when emotions are at their height, when the weight of the future first begins to burden a young mind, when the person they will be for the duration of their lives begins to fully take form.  Obviously, this makes for a vast well of story potential to be mined.

And adults - who are actually the main consumers of YA fiction - will connect with the material every bit as powerfully as those who are going through the same experience depicted in the story.  We have all been that age, and any story that properly conjures up the reality of having been that age will bring us older folks back to when we felt the exact same way.

One of my favorite movies is Where the Wild Things Are.  It is based on a young children's book, and is about the experience of being a young child.  But is not for young children.

Oh, there is nothing there that is unsuitable for kids.  I just don't think it caters to them particularly.  It doesn't speak to them in any strong way, because its purpose is to remind us who have left that period behind of exactly what it felt like to be a kid.  What we went through, the way the world treated us.  It reminds us of that time, and helps us relate to those who are currently children.

Kids don't need that.  They're already living it.  It's the rest of us that sometimes need to be reminded of just what a fearsome and difficult time childhood actually is (or can be).

That's what I like about YA, and why I choose to write it.  It is, in a basic way, about being at a time in our lives that defined us, that we struggled through, that we sometimes find it all too easy to forget.

And sometimes it has vampires in it.