The Televisionization of Fiction
Firefly (TV series) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I have a confession to make: I’ve never watched Firefly.
I’ve also never watched Serenity, Buffy, Dr. Who, Gossip Girl, The Vampire Diaries, Battlestar Galactica (the new one), Stargate: SG1, or True Blood. Well, that’s not entirely true. I’ve watched a few snippets of Buffy and True Blood, but no more than a scene or two here and there. I may have watched an episode of BSG early on. I’m not sure. I think that was when I had small babies. It’s all kind of a blur. I’ve watched a LOT of Elmo, Dora, and Blue’s Clues, though.
I grew up on Star Trek, which led to Star Trek: The Next Generation. And I did watch several seasons of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and Babylon 5 before I got distracted by life and other things. I never really got into Voyager, and Enterprise kind of stunk from day one, I thought.
Um, here’s the thing. I just don’t watch TV.
No, really, I don’t. I waited until the first season of Game of Thrones was on DVD and Blue Ray, and then I begged The Man to order it and call it my anniversary gift. He now teases me that whenever a new season comes out on DVD, he’ll buy it and give it to me for whatever holiday is next (“Happy Arbor Day, honey”). I also really, really enjoy The Office, but I’ve fallen behind on episodes and don’t really feel compelled to catch up. And whenever a new season of Mad Men comes out, we put it at the top of our Netflix queue.
It hasn’t always been this way. I used to watch a lot of TV–probably way too much. Maybe Facebook has replaced TV. No, actually, I think I was busy with work and things, and the shows that The Man and I both liked were just other genres (a lot of crime and police dramas) than paranormal and science fiction. Plus, there just really wasn’t a lot of paranormal stuff back in the day. Unless you count Twilight Zone, which you totally should.
There was also the kid factor. We stopped watching The Simpsons the day Sparky started going “d’oh!” I love The Simpsons, but I didn’t want my kid to become Bart, you know? And then there just was never really anything compelling enough to make me record it for later or . . . I don’t know.
Here’s the thing. A lot of the shows I mentioned above have huge fan followings in the writing and publishing community. Please know that I am NOT saying that’s inherently bad. I suspect they have those followings because they tell good stories. Really, that’s what we’re all here for–to tell good stories.
But I do wonder if TV is starting to inform our fiction more than it has a right to.
Hear me out. I don’t have a problem with visual media, but it is very, very different from print media. There’s a reason that people often say the book is better than the movie. But in this day and age, are we starting to expect our books to read like movies and TV shows? And more importantly, are we starting to write that way?
Personally, I have a dialogue issue. My characters talk a lot. I always have to rein them in, or y’all would just have pages and pages and pages of people yammering at each other. I’ve asked myself many times if this is perhaps rooted in my past immersion in visual media. I mean, scenes often play out in my head very much like a movie. When I talk about having trouble writing setting and building worlds, I wonder if that has anything to do with it. When you’re watching something, you tend to just absorb the setting rather than build it in your head, you know? If I read about Baelor’s Sept, I’ll have a picture in my head based on what I’ve read. If I see it, the words didn’t build the setting–some person on the set built it.
I don’t think it’s just me. I have noticed in other books I’ve read, both traditionally published and indie published, a trend toward heavier dialogue, more focus on physical descriptions of people, and less emphasis on setting. There’s also the proliferation of the first person present tense. Now, I’m not saying these things are always bad, but do you think the immediacy of visual media coupled with the fact that we interact more with the actors on the screen than the setting has nudged us toward a different way of telling stories?
I wonder, too, if the televisionization of fiction could account for more formulaic and/or lighter plots. When a story must be wrapped up in 22 or 42 minutes, it’s usually not going to be heavy on plot, or it’s going to be more “soapy” in nature so as to continue into the next week. Even movies have a limited ability to tell stories in the time allotted. Most people won’t want to sit and watch anything longer than about two hours. It has to be pretty compelling to keep us enthralled for longer (a testament to the wonderful filmmaking that is The Lord of the Rings trilogy).
I also confess to feeling a little out of the loop sometimes. When I see other writers talking about these shows, I feel a little like a geeky high school kid who has her nose in a book and totally missed the latest gossip. When I see publishing folk tweet about how they want to see something like XX TV show, I think, “crap, I don’t even know what that is.” Not that it’s necessarily a big deal what the publishing industry wants, because I firmly believe that the WORLD wants my work, but it just doesn’t know it yet. (Excuse me while I chortle and wipe away my tears of mirth.) But these are people who are supposed to know what the market “wants,” and they think the market wants more of XX, and I don’t even know if I do that because I don’t know what that is.
At the end of the day, I just don’t really care about most of those shows. I could go back and watch them all, I suppose, but I just don’t feel compelled to do so. I guess this is one way I know I’ve grown as a person since high school, eh? Not bowing to peer pressure? But I am kind of curious: Do you think today’s fiction is unduly influenced by visual media? Are we all watching too much TV and letting it negatively influence our writing? Or is it just that writing is changing and writers are responding to what the market wants–books that read more like TV shows? Have you even noticed this? Is it just me?
Okay, maybe it’s just me. I mean, after all, a lot of the writers I see talking about these shows are far more successful than I am, so maybe I’m the only one who wonders this. But if not, I would love to know what you think.
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A Major Change
I should be writing now. Or editing. But I’m dumping on my blog, and consequently, all of you, because my head is full and I need to dump. So move along if you don’t want to be dumped upon.
We finally had a “last straw” moment today with Sparky and his school issues. You have to realize–this kid is really, really smart. No, he really is. It’s an objective evaluation from, like, tests and things. And actually, it causes a lot of trouble, because the smart, fun, easy-going kids fall through the cracks really easily in a fairly large public school. Because he’s uber-smart and has always sailed through school until this year, and because he’s a bit of a dreamer, rather social, and a 7th grade boy, he and school have not agreed these last few months. His grades are slipping beyond what is reasonable to expect for even generous parents.
Now, Sparky has made some mistakes. There’s no question about that. But there are other factors involved. First and foremost, there’s a strike looming in our school district. I won’t get into the drama around it, and I won’t take sides publicly, although I will say that both sides could probably behave a LOT better than they are. Strikes are ugly. There’s just no way around it. And as of Wednesday, all of the teachers in our district are planning to strike. And by the way, this strike has been looming for a year. Today, teachers were pulled up outside of classrooms loading up their things. They’re already gone, and all of them are distracted in the extreme.
It’s not just the strike, either. Sparky has one teacher this year who–I kid you not–expected these seventh graders to read first grade books for the first month of the year. I’m not even joking a little bit. We got a picture of the books:
These were sitting on the desks in the seventh grade classroom for open house. The excuses given by the teacher were myriad, and I won’t go into them. And I will say that she did give Sparky some more challenging books when I complained. But oh, wait–did I mention this is a social studies classroom? Yeah. So for the first month to six weeks, they really learned not much at all about history or economics or humanities or anything. They read “baby books,” as my son put it.
Did I mention that he tests at a college reading level?
We should have known then that this year would be a struggle. I won’t recount all of the little niggling things that have been eating at us all year, but it’s been hard to hold our tongues. I’ve tried to be understanding of certain rules, policies, decisions, etc., but it’s really hard to keep being understanding and watch my kid being bumped along like a pinball because he’s the easy kid to bump along. Because he’s low maintenance–academically, behaviorally, socially–he just gets sort of lost. He’s not a trouble maker or a squeaky wheel, and he passes tests with flying colors. But his daily grades? Ugh!
Let me confess to you all that I am NOT a helicopter parent. I am so not wired that way at all. And rather than be the mom who’s always up in some teacher’s face, I’ve tried to coach Sparky in how to solve problems or get answers himself. Maybe he’s just too nice–he doesn’t do well with confrontation, sorta like his mom–and maybe he’s just a spacy, hormonal boy, but he’s been profoundly unsuccessful in speaking with his teachers. He’s asked for opportunity to do make up work and been denied, he’s asked for explanations and been given vague answers that I couldn’t figure out, and he’s asked for some general forecasting (as in, “will there be some big assignments that will help me bring my grade up?”) and been given a snarky answer of, “I don’t have time to add that all up and figure it out.”
Um, okay. I know y’all are busy and distracted, but if I were a teacher and a kid seemed to want to talk to me about assignments and grades, I’d frickin’ make thirty seconds to talk to him. And this is where all the teachers in my district will say they don’t have the prep time they need, and okay, maybe so, but the fact is, snarky answers do not help me or Sparky fix anything.
So, back to that last straw moment. The decision was made today to pull Sparky out of public school. For good. We will not be returning to traditional public school. Ever. Charter schools, yes, probably. And if those charters provide opportunity to take electives on a public school campus, then fine. But the traditional model?
I. Am. So. Done.
We will be homeschooling Sparky for the last two months of the year. He needs to get back on track, and between the timing and his choices and all that other stuff I rambled about above, taking his education back into our hands seems to be the only way to get him back to where he needs to be.
This is the second time we’ve tried regular public school and the second time we’ve been highly, highly disappointed. We moved into this area because the schools test well on state report cards, but as for the daily experience? It’s crap! Moving is not an option. Private school is not an option. The only charter middle schools (6th – 8th grade) are online, so that’s what we’ll do next year for both Sparky and Princess–an online charter school. That means they’ll be here with me. A lot.
God help us all.
I don’t know what this will mean for my writing. My hope is that, because they are older and fairly independent workers, I’ll mostly be a coach, guide, and taskmaster. I would hope that while they’re working, I can work, at least to some degree. We’ll try to find some ways to keep them busy during the day, too–electives, field trips, etc.
Princess will do great–she’s highly motivated academically. We call her Hermione. Sparky? I don’t know. I’m hoping these next couple of months and next year will get him refocused and headed in the right direction. There are some great options for high school–he could do an International Baccalaureate degree, which I think would be a great fit for him since he wants to go in a Liberal Arts direction–but he has to keep his grades in decent shape to have those options available. Being in charge of his schooling right now seems to be the only way to do that.
The thing is . . . we are not alone in making similar choices. I’ve heard from a lot of parents who are fed up with the school and the way things are going, and I know of many who have taken their kids elsewhere or decided to homeschool. It’s really quite sad, I think. But, Oregon is a very homeschool-friendly state, and the number of charter schools is growing, too. The traditional public school model is dying, but people are still finding ways to make sure their kids are educated. I’m just doing what’s best for my kiddo.
So, that’s where we are. It’s a huge change, and he’s really unhappy about it, but we’re kind of at our wit’s end with the whole thing. We don’t see any other good options, and we refuse to let him just slide and settle into bad grades, just getting by, when he’s so freakin’ smart. I know all moms say this, but seriously–he really is. All my kids are, and all of them are smart in different ways. It must be their father’s genes.
On the bright side, he tells me he wants to be an English major. He says he wants to write. And I don’t think he’s just saying that–he really is wired a lot like I am. I even wrote an essay about it once that was published in A Cup of Comfort for Writers. So maybe homeschooling and/or the online charter will give us some time to write together, read some good stuff, hit up a few courses or conferences together, and talk about books. I kind of look forward to that. It’s the one area where he and I really connect. And even as upset as he is, when I pointed that out to him, he perked up a little. I think he already knows how lonely it can be sometimes to be a writer.
Whew. This may be a record-setting post where word count is concerned. But you can see why my head was full. I must go sleep now. I have to tangle with the school tomorrow to get his records and then assuage his worries and tears.
My gosh, being a parent is hard.
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Brought to You by the Letter S
From Rabia Gale, who has one of the prettiest blogs I think I’ve ever seen.
How to Play: Comment to this entry and I’ll give you a letter. List ten things that you love that begin with that letter and then post that list on your journal.
My List: Ten Things I Love That Begin With The Letter S
- Sons
- Sleep
- Sarcasm
- Sweet nothings
- Sugar (unfortunately)
- Smiles
- Sincerity
- Scotland
- Symphony
- Stories
This seemed like a fun thing to do on a Saturday (ooh, another S-word I love!) and a way to share a little about myself. Your turn! Comment and I’ll give you a letter for your blog, journal, Facebook page, whatever.
New Publications At Last!
At long last, I have published new things. Without further ado, here are the links.
For Deception at Sea, you can purchase from Amazon and Smashwords. For The Accidental Muse, you can purchase at Amazon or Smashwords as well.
I have elected to let Smashwords do distribution to Barnes & Noble. I haven’t made any direct sales at B&N in months, but I have made a few sales through the Smashwords distribution channels. I haven’t been hugely impressed with B&N’s whole system, really, and their customer service was a bit lacking when I had some trouble re-uploading Ravenmarked a while back. So if you want to purchase from B&N, please be aware that it will be a couple of weeks before these stories are live there. If you just want an e-pub format, you can purchase that directly from Smashwords at one of the links above.
I have also updated my Deception at Sea page here on the blog, so if you don’t want to buy the story, you’re welcome to read the new shiny version in its entirety here. For FREE!
In the process of publishing these two pieces, I realized that it’s been a year since I published anything new. I published Servant of Dreams last April. I honestly can’t believe it’s been that long, but it makes me kind of embarrassed, you know? I mean, no wonder people are grumpy with me! Not only have I not finished Bloodbonded yet, I have nothing else to show for my time except the re-edited Ravenmarked! So let me just say to all of my threes of fans–thank you so much for being patient! I can’t say when I’ll next publish something new, but I promise you it will not be another year. And I also promise you that Bloodbonded is heading straight to the top of my writing project priority list starting next week!
So that’s it for the moment. Thanks for being my friends, fans, supporters, and comrades. I appreciate all of you!
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Confessions of an Indie Author
- I don’t trust the writing of authors who say they just write a story straight through, proof it once or twice, and publish it. I know what everyone says about judging a book and blah blah blah, but these are my confessions. I don’t trust the writing, and I probably won’t take a chance on it.
- I don’t trust reviews on those books, either.
- I still sometimes wish for a traditional deal. I sort of hope that someday I can have a foot in both worlds.
- I told my kids I’d take them to the library and made them wait in the car for five minutes while I checked Facebook and Twitter from my phone. Wait, that should have been in the Confessions of a Work At Home Mom post…
- I’m really scattered most of the time.
- I flipping hate formatting. I can do it. I just hate it.
- I am nowhere near making a living at this. Just so you know.
- I have to look up the rule on affect and effect every. single. time.
- There are moments when my chest tightens and my stomach churns from sheer terror at what I’m doing.
- I cry at my own sad scenes and laugh at my own jokes and nod at my own dialogue.
- I don’t understand the fascination with Pinterest. That has nothing to do with being an author. I just don’t understand it. And I even have ovaries and everything.
- I get jealous of other authors’ good reviews and ratings, even when I don’t trust them. The reviews and ratings, that is.
- I no longer expect my family and friends to buy my work. At first I thought they would, but now I know better. It usually surprises me when they do buy my stuff. And it’s okay either way.
- I find The Muse always grabs me by the hair and drags me into the rabbit hole on days when I have approximately seven hundred forty eight things to do.
- There are moments when I’m so far down the rabbit hole that the only thing I can do is go as far offline as possible to reset my brain. This is why I knit and crochet. Yarn keeps me in the real world.
- When the I Suck Fairy visits, I read 1-star reviews of my favorite books to make me feel better. It’s reassuring to know that even the greats get 1-star reviews.
- I write fast, but I edit slow.
- I do not belong to a critique group. With the exception of a couple of creative writing classes and one brief membership in a small crit group in the early 90s, I never have. I probably never will. I don’t see the value. But, if you see the value and you have a good critique group, I’m a little jealous. If I could join a critique group with Neil Gaiman, George R. R. Martin, and Ursula LeGuin in it, I wouldn’t have to think twice. I’d join in a heartbeat.
- Along those lines, as much as I love other writers, sometimes they drive me bat-s*** crazy and I have to retreat from them for a while.
- Other times, the fact that my brain is so very different from the normal people makes me feel desperately alone, and I long to be around people who understand my wiring. I feel a little less alone.
- But the truth is, I am never really alone, because there are voices in my head all the frakking time.
- Most of the time, I feel like an enormous imposter who has absolutely no idea what she’s doing.
- Most of the time, I wouldn’t change a thing. Most of the time. But on the days when I would change things, I’d change everything.
I do not share these things with you out of angst. I share these out of a hope that you will feel a little less alone if you read these things. Admit it–even if you haven’t published anything yet or decided whether you’ll go traditional or indie or both, you’ve felt at least one or two of these things. Haven’t you? HAVEN’T YOU??
All right. Back to proofreading. Return to your regularly scheduled programming.
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A Few Updates…
Sheesh, another week! I’m starting to think less and less about being online, and it’s getting easier and easier to turn off social media altogether in favor of writing. Which, really, I suppose is a good thing. I mean, if you like my writing, wouldn’t you rather I work on stories than ramble on my blog or poop around on Facebook and Twitter?
In any case, the reason for my absence this week is that I’ve been busily working on many things. I thought I’d take a few minutes to share some updates:
- The Accidental Muse: See that pretty, pretty new cover? The enormously talented Robin Ludwig came through for me again. This short story originally appeared in the Twelve Worlds anthology I contributed to last year. I received permission from the organizer of the anthology to republish the story on my own since our exclusivity agreement was for six months. I sent the story to Robin, and she skimmed it and came up with this beautiful cover. I especially love the little swirly lines on the lower half. They remind me of a musical staff, which is significant to the story. How, you ask? Why, you’ll have to read it! The story will go live sometime in the next week or so.
- Deception at Sea: I am happy to say the edits on this one are very nearly finalized, and I should be republishing it within the next week or two. I will most likely publish both this one and The Accidental Muse at the same time. I will also be updating the blog installments of Deception at Sea with the revised chapters, so if you don’t want to purchase it, you’ll be welcome to come back and read it all here for free.
- Bloodbonded: Now that I’m nearly done with the Deception at Sea edits, I’ll be getting back to the edits on Bloodbonded. After finishing that massive re-write last fall and then re-editing Ravenmarked, I needed some time to let Bloodbonded just simmer. I also had a million little niggling things on my mind, some of which I’ve blogged about. Now that many of those are resolved and the new novella and old short story are almost crossed off my “to do” list, I’ll be using my editing time to focus on Bloodbonded again. I have no update on publication, but rest assured that this project will now be jumping to the top of my “to edit” pile.
- A Whisper of Dragons (working title): At the beginning of April, I set a goal to finish the first draft of this new novel by the end of the month. My goal for this book was a first draft of 80,000 words. It now sits at 60,000 words, and I’ve been writing about 2,000 words a day. I think it’s safe to say I’ll finish the first draft this month.
Which leads me to a few thoughts on this current WIP…
When I wrote Ravenmarked, I shared it too soon. I published bits of it all along the way, and I’ve deeply regretted doing that for several reasons. With Whisper, I’ve shared almost nothing. Until the Lucky 7 post, I hadn’t even shared character names or anything more than “this is my cowboy/dragon/witch story.” I’m glad about that, because very little of this book is fit for human consumption yet.
However…
I just gotta tell y’all: I really, really, really love this book.
Tobias Birch is my main character, and I was thinking last night how different he is from some of the other male characters I’ve written. Connor Mac Niall is a superhero. There’s no other way to say it. Every time he turns around, something gets “leveled up” for him. He’s rather grumpy about that, but he tolerates it. Braedan Mac Corin is a dashing, easygoing, funny, thoughtful king who just wants to set up his kingdom and live happily ever after with Igraine. I’ve always said Braedan is the guy I could sit down and chat with over a beer. Edgar is a warrior to the core. Fierce and brave and very nearly foolhardy in his approach to fighting, Edgar’s never run from anything and never would. It’s not in his programming.
Tobias? He’s quiet. He’s a man of subtle strength and dignity. He’s got exactly one unusual skill, and otherwise, he’s sort of at the mercy of the women who run his town and have all the power. He’s an example of the whole “still waters run deep” mentality.
I didn’t think I’d find him so intriguing when I started writing him. I kind of thought he’d end up dull and boring. I mean, after you’ve lived in Connor’s head, just about everything is dull. But Toby? I find myself thinking of quiet cowboy types I’ve known over the years, and I think this type might be kind of unique to American fiction, you know? Not the spaghetti western cowboy. Not the “guns blazin’” cowboy or the berserker cowboy or the hard-drinking cowboy. This is the cowboy who works his tail off, who’s more comfortable with horses (in this case, dragons) than people, who may not be the best fighter in town, but he’s the guy who’ll give you the shirt off his back to help you out. He’s just a good, solid guy. Who happens to talk to dragons.
In any case, while I’m still not ready to share anything more specific about or from the story, I just had to share a little about Toby’s character or I was probably going to have an aneurism or something. I really can’t wait to share more of this novel with y’all. It’s so unlike anything I’ve ever written before, and I’m really excited about it.
So that’s it. Maybe this week I’ll find some time to explore the cowboy mythos on my blog. Maybe not. Sheesh, I think Toby’s reticent personality is starting to rub off on me…
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On Pacing
For someone who exercises so inconsistently, I sure do seem to come up with a lot of metaphors involving it.
I started tracking my work hours early last week–the week of spring break. I’ve never been very good at tracking actual hours worked unless I had a project that required it of me. Most of my commercial projects were flat-rate jobs, and I’ve always been kind of a multitasker when it comes to actually doing work. I’d take a call, work on a separate project, respond to e-mail, check Facebook, etc. in a kind of round robin that I THOUGHT was fairly efficient. I mean, I always got everything done, and I prided myself on being able to keep track of so many things.
But the thing is, while that may have worked for my commercial writing (and now I’m wondering if it really did), it’s not working for fiction. It’s way too easy to tell myself I’m “working” when I’m actually goofing around online.
So, just like a new dieter, I started tracking my actual work hours and my goofing off hours after I actually did them rather than on a pre-planned basis. What do I mean? Well, I’ve noticed than when I’m planning meals and tracking my food intake when I’m watching what I eat, I’m a LOT more honest if I do it after the fact. It’s good to have a general plan for what I’ll eat during the day, but often, when I go back and input what I DID eat, I find that I changed my plan or added a little extra something to a meal or added in a snack somewhere. When I know that I have an appointment with that food diary at the end of the day, I’m a lot more careful about what crosses my lips during the day.
That’s sort of what I’ve been doing since early last week. At the end of the day, I’ve charted how much I worked and what I did (editing, composing, blogging, work-related social media) and how much I just screwed around online.
Well. I think I see some patterns emerging.
First of all, last week–the week of spring break–I managed to actually work 15 hours. I also managed to screw off online for a few hours–about three, according to my records. Not bad, but it was spring break. I coveted my computer time since there wasn’t a lot of it. I was pretty good about making sure I REALLY WORKED when I was online.
This week was the real eye-opener. From Sunday, 4/1 through today, 4/7, I worked about 20.5 hours. That’s really pretty good. I composed a LOT of words on my new novel, edited a fair amount of Bloodbonded, blogged a couple of times, and managed to turn in my article for Fantasy Faction. I mean, I feel like it was a pretty productive week.
But then I look at the hours I goofed off. Keep in mind, I knew I’d have to write this down, so I probably did limit myself a bit when I was actually goofing off–you know, like when you eat two Thin Mints instead of the whole package because you know you’ll have to put the calories in your food diary! Holy cats, y’all–I still managed to goof off on the computer about 8.5 hours. That doesn’t count any volunteer stuff I did, either (which actually wasn’t a lot this week). That’s just pure and simple goofing off. Well, I will say a good portion was spent helping a friend with her knitting project through Facebook messages, but still–I goofed off a lot.
The funny thing is, I don’t feel like I was on Facebook or Twitter that much this week. It’s just that when I’m honest about it, crap–I screw around a LOT on the computer! Knowing that, I’ll probably be limiting my social media time even more and trying to keep it really to just writing-related stuff.
So now the exercise metaphor. (You thought I forgot, didn’t you?) In the interest of balance, I decided to actually limit myself to 20 hours of work this week. I went slightly over that, but here’s the thing–I was incredibly productive during those hours, and I was able to manage it really well with the rest of my life. I was tempted one day to keep editing, but I knew if I did, I wouldn’t have as many hours to work the rest of the week, and I’ve decided it’s important to at least compose a little bit each day. So I forced myself to put everything away that day, and you know what? The next day, I went into everything with a fresher outlook, more ready than ever to tackle the editing and writing.
I’m finding that I have to pace myself with writing just like I pace myself when I exercise. If I go too far down the rabbit hole on any given day, I have a terrible time extracting myself, which leads to grumpy beasties and hubby, which leads to more grumpiness from me, which makes me want to retreat into my worlds, which then feeds on itself in an endless repetition. If I pace myself, I find that not only am I more efficient when I do take the time to work, I’m also an easier person to live with and the family doesn’t get shunned as much. And, my brain seems to stay just enough in the story worlds that I can dive right back in the next day and pick up with renewed vigor instead of the plodding effort I was experiencing there for a while.
A marathoner knows he has to start at a certain pace in order to finish 26.2 miles. You can’t use up all your energy at first, or you’ll never finish the race. I’m running a marathon here. If I don’t pace myself, I’ll end up right where I was a few months ago when I was ready to give up for good.
Now I just have to add my actual exercise back into my schedule… One of these days, I might get the hang of this balance thing…
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On Reputation
There’s a post going around right now among my Facebook friends called Ten Things I Want To Tell Teenage Girls, and while I think it’s a truly awesome post with some really good advice for pretty much anyone, my friend Pippa Jay pointed out that #8 on that list could use some tweaking. (Also, as an aside, Pip’s book Keir releases on May 7 from Lyrical Press. You should definitely check it out!)
In case you don’t want to read the post, here’s #8:
8. Stop saying things like, “I don’t care what anyone thinks about me.” First of all, that’s not true. And second of all, if it is true, you need a perspective shift. Your reputation matters – greatly. You should care what people think of you.
Pip made this comment on my Facebook link:
If people expect you to be a certain way and keep telling you so, you need to be able to shut them out and stop worrying about what some people will inevitably say about you. Some people just say mean, dumb or thoughtless stuff, and you need to learn not to care about what those kind of people are saying.
I totally agree with both statements. Yes, you should care what people think. Reputation matters. So decide now what kind of reputation you want and aim to behave in a manner that encourages people to think of you that way. Then you’ll know who to ignore, because they’ll be the ones who are trying to convince you that the reputation you’re aiming for is unacceptable.
That got me thinking–what do I want to be known for? I’ve actually thought about this a lot over the last year or two, mostly since I started making more noise online and especially since I hopped on the indie bandwagon. Here’s the thing. I decided a while back that I really don’t want to be known as a crusader for indie authorhood. I also don’t want to be known as a ranter or an Internet loudmouth, which really, is probably a bit problematic when trying to build an author platform. The Internet tends to not care too much about what you say until you start shouting and ranting.
So when I die and people gather to talk about me, what do I want them to say?
“She had compassion.”
“She was generous.”
“She was kind.”
“She was thoughtful in her speech and manner. She was considerate of other people’s feelings.”
“She was fun. She had a great sense of humor.” (And then one of the girlfriends will probably mention sometime when we all laughed so hard we almost peed our pants.)
“She was a faithful wife, mother, friend.”
“She was easy to work with. She had great ideas, and she wasn’t shy about sharing them. She was creative.”
“She was low-maintenance.”
“She was open-minded and respectful of other opinions. She was always willing to engage people in polite conversation about things she disagreed with, but she also defended her own thoughts and opinions with good arguments. She made me think.”
Sadly, none of those things will get me my own reality TV show. None of those things will result in a sudden spike in blog hits. None of those things will garner me a million Twitter followers.
But those are the things that matter to me. I want people to remember me as someone they enjoyed being around, someone who made things interesting and, hopefully, a little more fun, and someone who brought thoughtful, well-reasoned arguments and opinions to the table. It would be nice if they thought of me as smart, or a talented writer, or a “good” wife and mother, but I can live with it if they don’t. Actually, I won’t care at that point, because I’ll be dead, but you know . . .
Reputation matters. The ranters and shouters, they might get a lot of blog hits or a lot of attention, but that’s not the reputation I want. There’s another line in that blog post that hit home: “all attention is not equal.” So true. When I look at the blog posts that have had the most hits, they’re the ones where I was ranting. I may have had a bunch of readers on those days (probably mostly other writers), and I may have even had a few new subscribers, but most of those folks didn’t stick around. If it bleeds, it leads. But I don’t want attention for bleeding.
I can’t say I’ll never rant on my blog again. That would be a foolish promise, one I would likely never be able to keep. But I can say that I’m going to intentionally focus on cultivating the reputation I want, both on the blog and in real life. Because those things? Those are eternal. Those things matter.
Be intentional. Cultivate the reputation you want. Then when the naysayers start being pissy, you’ll know it’s okay to tell them to shut up.
Like this:
I’ve had a bunch of thoughts about writing and publishing brewing these last few days. I’m trying really hard to maintain my relatively recent adoption of a publishing agnosticism policy–in other words, however you want to publish and/or think you need to publish is fine, and I wish you all the best–but I’m sort of . . . I dunno . . . dismayed? I sort of have to ramble before I implode. Or explode. Don’t worry–I’m not mad at anyone, and this isn’t a rant or a diatribe. I’m just processing. And I’ve tried very hard to make sure this post stays relatively balanced and calm and . . . well, sane. So I apologize in advance if I sound overly negative.
Several articles brought me to this point. First, there was Christopher Priest’s irritated post about this year’s nominees for the Clarke Award. Now, I haven’t read a single book he mentioned in that post, largely because I just don’t read much science fiction and because . . . well, I’m busy with my own stuff. And, you know, life. But reading that post made me think several things:
- “No one is immune to the ‘good heavens, there’s a lot of crap published these days’ demon.”
- “Gosh, I wish I were well-known enough to have another author take a public stab at me.”
- “I’ve only heard of one of those short-listed books that didn’t make the final six, whereas I’ve heard of most of the final six.”
It’s this last thought that I must speak to. I say again–I don’t know anything about any of these books, really. I haven’t read them. I can’t make any judgments on the quality of the writing or the work. But I do have to wonder–are awards like the Clarke Award, the Hugo, the Nebula, etc. just another popularity contest? Do they really take into account the quality of the work? Again, it’s just Priest’s opinion of the works, and that’s totally subjective, but this is where my head goes when I read an article like this.
Then I read an article in The Atlantic. The article proposes a “slow-books movement,” the idea being that we should all be reading more classics, because classics are better for us. Like, the way a grilled chicken salad is better for us than, say, a Big Mac. There was an overarching attitude that genre fiction is really not worth your time, and that if you really want to be a smart person, you should be reading “classics.” And here’s where my thoughts went on that:
- “Who decides what’s a ‘classic,’ and why can’t ‘classic,’ ‘literary,’ and ‘genre’ overlap? The Road is a modern literary classic, but it’s also dystopian spec fic. Jane Austen is ‘classic,’ but couldn’t you categorize much of her work as 19th century chick lit?”
- “Amen and amen. I mean, people should not be reading all the crap that’s out there. Every time someone reads a Snookibook, a puppy dies.”
- “Who cares what people read?? At least people still read!”
Yes, admittedly, this article triggered my more schizoid side. Any article that leads me to coin a word like “Snookibook” to encompass everything I think is stupid is probably not one I should take too seriously. I mean, it is The Atlantic. I would not say The Atlantic is exactly known for being reading material for the unwashed masses. The truth is, there are many “literary classics” that are really, really awful books, and there are many genre books that have some fantastic writing and terrific literary elements. And sometimes, a grilled chicken salad isn’t going to cut it, and you need to have a Big Mac. And a huge strawberry milkshake.
BUT! Then my head combined that article with this one about moving from self-publishing to traditional publishing, and that’s when the dismay started to creep in. But also hope. Because apparently, John Locke’s Kindle success is not necessarily translating into automatic traditional success his publisher was hoping for. And yet, Amanda Hocking’s success is translating, as is E. L. James Fifty Shades trilogy. It’s pretty likely that all three authors would be considered Big Mac writers by the author of that Atlantic article, wouldn’t you say? I mean, you have thrillers, YA paranormal, and erotica in that list. Those sound like airport staples to me. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that–like I said, sometimes you need a Big Mac. But what this article did highlight for me was that publishing success seems to have very little to do with:
- how you publish first;
- what your original price point is;
- how well the stories are edited; or
- how you market yourself.
In the end, it seems like it all comes down to luck. John Locke marketed his work heavily, but he also got in on the early stages of the Kindle explosion. Amanda Hocking just wrote and put her stuff out there after rejections from traditional publishers. E. L. James found an audience on fan fiction sites and Goodreads. But really, all three of those authors 1) put their stuff out there and 2) benefited from luck and good timing. Since I can’t control luck, I’ll just keep writing.
This morning, I read this post, which delicately reminds authors that we are a commodity. This is absolutely true. Look at Hocking, for example. Her work was rejected by the traditional publishing industry until it became apparent that she would make them a whole heaping pile of cash. Hey, I have absolutely no issue with that. Publishing is a business. Publishers must make money or they cease to be publishers.
But herein lies the weird Catch 22 of author life as we know it today. If you can be a self-published success, if you can somehow find that magic button that helps you take off and realize your dreams of being a writer who lives on your writing income, you will attract the interest of traditional publishers, and it really won’t matter too much whether you write Big Macs or grilled chicken salads. They will say, “hey, that author can make us some money!” And you know what? That’s what they do, and that’s fine, and if you can get that deal and think it’s best for you, go for it!
But the irony is–why would you want to do that if you’re making a living as a writer?
This is the thing people wondered about Hocking. I understand why she went with the deal she got–she said she wanted to get her books into bookstores, didn’t she? But then I read this article where the author talks about how she just called bookstores and told them to look up her ISBN and buy a few books. Every one of them did. Well, heck. I can do that. And then, am I not on at least equal footing with a small publisher? A big publisher could perhaps do more for an author in terms of exposure, but I’m not necessarily talking about exposure–I’m talking about making a living. Because isn’t that what we want to do?
Finally, I read this post by my friend Linda Cassidy Lewis. I was there with her a couple of weeks ago. I was done writing. I was fed up with publishing, with trying to balance my life, with fear, with the voices that told me I was doing it all wrong. Linda says something so profound in her post:
. . . if you stop listening to your character’s voice, eventually that character stops speaking to you. She says, “You don’t like the way I’m telling this story? Fine. Tell it without me.”
Silly me.
Do over. Stop being a sheep. Revise the revision. Start listening again. Write.
Amen and amen, Linda. I refuse to be a sheep. I will write what I love and publish it whatever way it makes sense, and if that means I plug away at this thing for years and never make more than a few hundred dollars, then that’s what I’ll do. I know I write Big Macs. I’m okay with that. I know I probably write stuff that’s been done to death, or stuff that’s not sparkly enough or groundbreaking enough or fresh enough or whatever. But then, I think about what I read and what I love, and it’s the old stuff–the stuff I miss from childhood, the David Eddings and Stephen Lawhead, the tropes and settings and magics that aren’t always clearly defined, because after all, it’s magic. And that all translates into my work, I’m sure.
So . . . I’ll probably never be up for a Hugo or anything, and I doubt anyone will ever call me a “groundbreaking” author, but I’ll keep writing. As long as three people besides my mom, The Man, and Ethel want to read my work, I’ll keep writing it.
(Sorry for the long post. Guess I’m making up for that week off.)
Like this:
A Whole Week?
Wow, y’all. It’s been a whole week since I posted anything here. So when I said “balance means less Internet,” apparently I meant it.
It hasn’t helped that this week was spring break for my kids. Not only did I have all four beasties home for the week, I had to shepherd them through homework (which isn’t quite done, by the way), make sure they didn’t spend the entire week in front of a screen (hard because it POURED this week–like, “those squirrels aren’t gathering two by two, are they?” poured), ensure that Sparky atoned for some minor academic sins of last trimester, and throw a belated birthday party for the Princess. I had to do these things amid the house chaos that results from having all six of us home at once. I had to just accept that I was doing good to make sure that we had clean dishes, clean clothes, and reasonably germ-free bathrooms. Next week, some time must be taken to sortakindamaybealittlebit put the house back together.
Despite the challenges, I did manage to actually work fourteen hours this week. Yes, I started keeping track. I think that will help me recognize what level of work I can manage to accomplish in a day and a week and also help me track what I’m getting done during the hours I work. I’ve split my tracking into “work” and “goofing off on the computer.” I need to know how much time I waste online. 
I do struggle with knowing what counts as goofing off, though. I sort of think reading blogs is somewhere between work and goofing off. Certainly writing my blog and my weekly Fantasy Faction article should count as work. What about social media? I’m sort of going on the honor system. This morning I spent time helping a young friend with a knitting project via Facebook messages. At the same time, I had a great conversation about indie publishing on a link I posted. So… Was it work time, or no? I don’t know. Probably the two minutes I spent watching a clip from the old Carol Burnett show isn’t working, nor was the time I took to read an article on Lent or the “52 ways to use coconut oil” list.
In any case, I did add a few thousand words to my new novel and put in several hours of editing on Bloodbonded this week. And, I spent some time planning some ideas and releases for later this year–short pieces, mostly. I’m finalizing my edits on Deception at Sea, too. So it may not sound like a lot of work, but when I spell it out on a day by day, hour by hour basis, it adds up and I feel like I actually accomplished something. Considering that I had the beasties home and that Monday was a family day (all day), I think getting fourteen hours of work in was a pretty significant accomplishment.
Even more significant than the hours, though, was the mental change I experienced. For the first time in months and months, I felt like I could do this–that I could balance family and writing. And for the first time in months, I chose to ignore the market, the reviews, the other writerly-type things that annoy me and I just wrote. I kicked the I Suck Fairy in the butt and wrote, and nevermind what other people think of epic fantasy–or rather, my variety of epic fantasy. If I write it, if I’m passionate about it, if I love it, someone else will, somewhere.
Anyway, it’s Saturday, and we’re heading to an afternoon movie with the beasties, so I’m off for now. Sorry this is so boring. Maybe next time I’ll blow something up to make things interesting.
