One of the amazing things about writing a novel set in a real city is the opportunity to visit it. I went even further in my book, The Great Dagmaru, and had my main character, Stephen Dagmar, go to school at Queen’s University, in Kingston, Ontario, Canada. That I get tingles walking around the beautiful old campus is an understatement.
When I took these pictures, I thought of our dear departed friend, Paul Curran. He went to this school too. I hoped to show them to him, but I never had the chance.
Enjoy.
I took this picture not so much for the doors but to capture the reconstructive work they were doing. Note the missing bricks on the left.
Queen’s Theological Hall, east side
East side door.
Back of the Queen’s Theological building
…and the front.
Sign reads: “Same bat time, same bat channel.
“We’re awesome
you can be awesome too.”
I often have ideas for novels but are any of them really novel ideas? They say there are only seven plots in the world. Just like there are only seven notes (not including sharps/flats) and yet look how many variations there are to play them.
I’ve always wanted to be able to play an instrument. I love music. I love listening to people play who I can hear are really feeling the music. But I have no talent of my own. I started with the recorder in elementary school (drove my parents crazy) then I graduated to the clarinet (drove them even crazier) and at one point I even played the oboe. I drove everyone crazy with that – they took me off it after three days.
I inherited my dad’s two guitars – a 12-string Yamaha acoustic, and a 6-string Guild electric/acoustic jazz guitar. The latter is worth some money, but I’d rather play it than sell it. Except I can’t. As many times as I’ve tried to learn, I can’t. Ah well.
My NaNo project isn’t going very well. I’m having a hard time getting into it, and I think it’s because of what I’m reading right now. I need to be reading a novel that is in tune with what I’m trying to write. So if I’m writing something that is along the purely story-telling line, I need to read something like Stephen King, who is a master of storytelling. Right now I’m attempting literary fiction. It’s a huge leap for me, but I’m trying to get out of my comfort zone a little. I need to read literary fiction, to get the feel of it. Instead, I’m reading two other fantastic books, Eating Bull by Carrie Rubin and Eve of Darkness by S.J. Day. (You can find links to them both in my Goodreads widget on the right side of the screen. Below my twitter feed.) I don’t want to put either of them down but… NaNo is only 30 days long – and I’m soooo behind in my word count. I’m up to 4,300 words – by the end of tomorrow I’m supposed to hit 10K. Not going to happen with Alex at home. I need some fire under my butt. Or I need to rethink my novel. I suppose it’s not too late. What’s another 4,300 words, after all?
Or hey, maybe I just need some background music. Maestro! Where the hell are you, Maestro?
It’s the time of year again for the Kingston Writer’s Festival! I bought tickets for seven events this year, one of which was last night at the Grand Theatre.
I had the pleasure to attend an interview with Annie Proulx, of Brokeback Mountain and The Shipping News fame, and Emma Donoghue, who, most famously so far, wrote both the novel and screenplay for Room. Both lovely ladies talked about and read from their newest releases, Barkskins, (Proulx) and The Wonder, (Donoghue), and I must say both books sound fascinating.
The best part of the evening, for me as an author, was when they talked about writing. I nodded my head when Ms. Donoghue said that if she were to describe where “home” is for her, it would be her laptop. Both authors agreed that when writing a novel, they live there inside it. It’s true for me as well. Emma also told a funny story about when she was writing Room, how she used her young son to figure out the logistics of escaping a rolled-up rug. I did the same, using my son to help me figure out the intricacies of a certain magic trick in “The Great Dagmaru.”
It was wonderful to be able to relate to two famous authors on a professional level – as professional as it can be to use your offspring as a prop, that is. And, of course, to be in the presence of greatness.
Most of the events I’ve signed up for to come are more for the sake of learning. A few are on the subject of writing non-fiction, in anticipation of putting together my memoir on parenting a Deaf child. I hope to update you all on how things are going throughout the weekend.
When I started Stream of Consciousness Saturday, two and a half years ago, I did it because I wanted to write something on the weekends without having to think about it too much. For most people, the weekdays are the busiest and weekends are for relaxing. My situation is the opposite, having the kids home all day. So I’d sit and wrack my brain for a “good idea” of what to write and usually just get stressed while I watched my views plummet. (I’ve always paid attention to numbers, so the views on my blog were a natural obsession for me.)
The whole thing started at the mall, actually. I was sitting in the food court, eating my lunch alone, and wanted to write something. Anything. So I took out my trusty notebook and began. I came home later and transcribed it verbatim on my blog. It was a week or two later that I came up with the idea to let other people in on the fun. And it has been fun, hasn’t it? (This is starting to sound doomed – it’s not.) (Also, I’m going to end another paragraph with brackets.)
I think the whole love affair I have with stream of consciousness writing stems from the way I write fiction best. I’m a pantser, which means I don’t plot. I write by the seat of my pants. It’s a lot like stream of consciousness, because you never know where it’s going. The difference is, when writing fiction you’re in someone else’s head. Someone you have gotten to know by writing backstories and by living with them through their trials and tribulations. Their struggles and their joys. Once I know them well, they carry my mind along… much like my mind carries me along to write what I’m writing now. It’s so completely natural, and that’s what I enjoy about it the most when I read all of your SoCS posts. It’s a lovely, unfiltered glimpse that allows us all to really see how we connect with one another. Because we’re really all the same inside.
Hey! I managed to write a paragraph with no brackets! (So where was I?) (See what I did there?)
I suppose to go back to the beginning, I just wanted to say I still and will probably always appreciate the concept of stream of consciousness writing. It’s an escape inwards. Like an explosion of bodily fluids but without the mess. Fingertip sweat. I should probably shut up now.
If it’s not one thing… I’m sure at some point or another I’ve started a post like this before. In fact if I have, it’ll probably show up in the “see also” previews below this post. And the truth is, I hate being negative. So I’ll just get this over and done with. It’s really not that bad. In fact it probably hasn’t even been worth all this intro to it.
You know I had a bug bite the other day that made my hand swell? Well, that’s better. Now I have a sore on the very tip of my “d” finger. Why do I refer to my finger as my “d” finger? It only hurts when I type. No idea what the problem is. Can’t see anything except a painful blister. Yeah, wasn’t worth the intro.
In other news:
I used a sprint (set a timer for 10 minutes and just typed until the buzzer went off) to kick-start my novel writing. I got less than 400 words written in that 10 minutes, but it got me back into my story. I managed to write another 1,600 words today. The moral of the story is, sprints work when you’re stuck. It’s kind of like stream of consciousness that no one will ever read.
Every time I see “Cookie Policy” on a website I think about my own cookie policy – don’t buy them if I don’t want to gain weight. And definitely not if I go to the store hungry.
How is it that people think by writing f*ck instead of fuck no one will be offended? Is an asterisk any less offensive than a “u” just because it looks like a pretty flower? Okay, maybe it is.
Getting back to not wanting to write about miserable things, I’m actually a funny person most of the time. You can tell by my humorous fiction over at my fiction blog. Oh, and the novelette I’ll be (hopefully) publishing next week! It’s a light, romantic comedy that you’ll be able to read over a lunchtime or two. On sale soon for just $0.99 at Amazon and Kobo. Watch out for my celebratory post when the details are finalized!
It’s hard to be funny when you’re under pressure to be though, isn’t it? Waaay back when my SoCS prompt was fairly new, I made the prompt for the week “funny.” We all found it difficult to write about anything that was laugh-out-loud funny, so most of us wrote about something peculiar instead.
Knock, knock! Hang on, that one doesn’t work very well in a post. Why did the chicken cross the road?
About a month ago I was approached on Goodreads, completely at random, by a man (I think it’s a man – the name s/he uses is genderless) who was looking for people to give his novel away to in exchange for an honest review. I thought about it for a while. I looked up the book on Amazon and saw it already had a few good reviews, and then I accepted on the condition he wasn’t in too much of a rush. He said fine.
A couple of days ago I started reading it, but I was struggling. The story itself is so-so, but the writing is horrible. At least by my standards. Yes, I know, I’ve been at this editing thing for so long that I’ve started mentally editing every single thing I read. I’m critical to a fault. But really… the writing is bad. So I did what any decent author who doesn’t want trashy reviews of her own work would do, and I emailed the author, telling him he needed an editor. Because he said he’d just received a bad review, I suggested he pull his novel, fix it, and put it back up for sale. Along with a few examples I gave him on what he could improve, I gave him the choice that I, a) keep reading and give the best review I can, b) stop reading and forget about it, or, c) put it down and start again after he altered it.
He chose to leave it as is, and said thanks, but no thanks. Just delete it from my files.
Now here’s my dilemma: to write bad reviews for novels written by independent authors or not? I’m not talking necessarily about the aforementioned one, though it has crossed my mind that maybe I owe it to the public to let them know what they’re potentially spending $5.99 on, (yes, $5.99 for a first time author’s unedited novel) but in general. How does one author crush another author’s dream? And it really is crushing. Bad reviews for an unknown, independent author can, and probably will, mean no sales.
You may say that there’s always something positive to comment on, but if I only mention the good stuff, it’s my own reputation on the line. Say, for instance, I write in my review, “A fast-paced, thrilling ride full of twists and turns! I couldn’t wait to get to the end to find out what was going to happen!” but on the way to the end, the reader who took my review to heart comes across a line that should have read, “She turned to look out the windshield,” but that actually reads, “She threw her face at the windshield,” (an actual line from the book I was reading). Is that reader going to think I missed such a painfully painful detail? And if so, is the reader going to avoid my novels like the proverbial plague?
It’s been bothering me all day, this dilemma. It’s a question of morals, compassion, and self-preservation in regards to my career. I won’t review this particular book, but the situation is bound to arise again, unless I decide to just stop writing reviews, or only write them for good books.
What would you do? Or, as a reader, what do you wish I’d do?
There are, arguably, seven basic plots. I won’t list them here, but you can find them if you click this link: The Seven Basic Plots: Why We Tell Stories by Christopher Booker. All seven can be said to result from real life inspiration. While fiction can take these inspirations to incredible heights, the ideas begin from somewhere.
In this particular case, it seems to me a clear case of copying: if you read the exhibit (click here) given in the lawsuit, the infinite monkey theorem comes to mind as the only other possible explanation, particularly when Clare denies even having been inspired by Kenyon’s work. Either that or both authors are the same person and the lawsuit is an attempt to drum up business.
…hey, there’s an idea for a novel. You see what I mean? THAT’s inspiration.
While there is a lively discussion going on in the FaceBook group I belong to about whether or not an author can own an idea, and how within a genre certain aspects of creations (worlds, characters, fantastical traits) will keep popping up, there has to be a line upon which copying and inspiration is drawn. And my FaceBook acquaintances have a very good point. Though fiction is inspired by real life, fiction also inspires more fiction. How many novels and screenplays have been inspired by the character of Dracula? Countless. Although Dracula may be a bad example because its copyrights have expired, normally permission must be given to copy a story. But what about inspiration? I’m sure Ann Rice and Stephenie Meyer had no issues over creating vampires as their main characters. The point is, they created their own brand of vampires, expanding on the inspiration they received from the Master.
Just as there are only so many plotlines, world building is similarly restricted to having features that we humans can relate to; characters as well. There is a common fear among authors that we are infringing upon each other’s ideas, and these restrictions are to blame. Of course we can’t read everything, just to make sure, but when we do read something that inspires us, I believe it’s the mark of a good author that he or she can expand that inspiration to create something new from it.
So we have copyright infringement vs. inspiration. Is there a magic number of similarities which define where the line is and when it’s crossed? If so, what is it? Have you ever read something that you think crosses the line? Let’s discuss.
That would be Missing In Action, and the reason is also what is behind my exciting news. A friend, who is also an avid reader and a respected author and reviewer of fiction has accepted my request to read my manuscript. I’ve asked her to give me a no-holds-barred opinion on whether or not my novel needs a professional editor. Yes, I know how many authors and editors insist that every novel MUST HAVE an editor, but seriously… My novel is 750 pages long. I’m looking at paying more money than I can probably ever hope to get back. So this is my last-ditch attempt to really see what’s up with my grammar.
So why have I not been around? I’m concentrating on getting this baby as good as it’s going to get before I give it up. And then, it’s either going to an editor or not because come hell or high water, it’s getting published this year. Why is it going to be published this year? Because I told my muse in a letter that it would. And that’s what it all comes down to.
That’s right.
Not that I’m delusional enough to believe that even on the off-chance he read my letter he would remember it ten minutes later, let alone remember I’m writing a character with his sense of fashion, his stage presence and his face, he’s damned well going to (potentially if it gets to him) receive a copy of my novel in the mail, complete with his name in the acknowledgements! So there! (Disclaimer: The preceding run-on sentence is not, by any stretch of the imagination, an example of the grammar in my novel.)
Anyway, that’s what I’ve been doing and what I’ll be doing for the next week or so. But I haven’t forgotten about you! I realize I’m terribly behind in my reading and replying to comments. I’ll be going back a couple of weeks to get to them, so if you get a reply to a comment you’ve forgotten you left, don’t be surprised. In the meantime I’m going to try to post every day on my fiction blog, plus blog about my trip to Japan here, and, (of course) keep up the weekly prompts. In other words, I won’t be as busy as I was last month. 🙄
It’s odd that even though I love to write, sometimes it seems such a chore. I think back to a video* I watched again just recently of John Cleese, standing in front of an audience, talking about creativity. He stresses the importance of needing to be free of stress (haha. my bad) in order to be creative. He says that we have to be able to play – to play with ideas at least – and that means not being bogged down by the multitude of things we MUST do. Because let’s face it, as adults play is often at the bottom of our list of things to do.
Like just now, a perfect example: I was happily writing away when I heard a noise from the kitchen. The puppy was chewing on the table. Being a responsible adult who doesn’t want teeth marks in my table, I had to get up and leave my writing. It never ends!
Winston
…the constantly wiggly
…unless he’s sleeping
So Mr. Cleese, quite rightly suggests that there must me a time and a place to be creative. Only I rarely get it. And that really cuts into my enjoyment of writing.
So I come back to the beginning, don’t I? It’s not really odd.
And then even when I do get a moment to myself, and a space to myself, according to Mr. Cleese (and my own experience) it takes time to wind down. Speaking of wind, the dog just farted. For a small pup he can cause a big stink! Where was I? Oh yeah. Getting in the mood. There are times that I’m in the mood to write even when I’m stressed. An idea will pop into my head, or just a mood will overcome me and I can’t not write.
Being a writer is such a strange thing!
The “odd/even” prompt is brought to you by Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Click here to join in, and leave your link for everyone to see!
To find the rules for Just Jot It January, click here. Join in today! It’s never too late! And don’t forget to ping back your January 23rd post here at this post.
Note: If you combine SoCS and JusJoJan in one post, make sure you ping back to both this post and the Friday Reminder post.
*Google “John Cleese on creativity” to find it on Youtube.
It hasn’t been often in my life that I’ve felt elegant. I don’t have a job that requires any level of it, and I never really have. I used to dress nicely when I worked in an office, particularly when I was the receptionist. I’ve enjoyed going out to parties, dances, and bars, (in my younger years) but those days are gone.
But I do appreciate elegance. And so I write about it. The characters in my novels are far more elegant than I can ever dream to be. It’s just one of the many things I compensate for using my imagination. They say those who can’t do, teach. I suppose it could be said that I teach the population of my stories what I can do in theory but not practice in real life. Or maybe they teach me.
The “Elegance” prompt is brought to you by Kelli at Forty, c’est Fantastique!. Please go and say hi and follow her if you don’t already!
To find the rules for Just Jot It January, click here and join in today. It’s never too late! And don’t forget to ping back your January 18th post here!
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