Fatty-Fatheads

By Kathleen Sawisky, Esq.

There wasn’t always a sister. Wasn’t always a foil to my main character, to illustrate her alienation from family, her transition as a young girl to a young woman. Then one day I asked myself “What if Natalia has an older sister?” I couldn’t get the concept out of my head, and Beth was born. It was monumentally frustrating on many levels; everything had to be rewritten, and I mean everything. The inclusion of a character who had not existed in the ten, twenty, even thirty previous reincarnations of the story.

I can’t deny it. The addition of Beth has made the story stronger and, more importantly perhaps, made Natalia a more rounded character.

That’s what I’ve always tried to achieve. A richer, more vivid world that my characters and prance merrily around in while simultaneously avoiding numerous explosions, and for a solid three years I thought I had it down to a science. It was only when I turned, maybe 24, 25, when I looked back on my writing and it felt thin, watery. Oh sure, lots happened. Explosions, murder, death, love, gun fights, and just a ridiculously amount of bloodshed. I had it all, but none of it resonated with me. I can’t speak as to what happened or how I mentally flipped the switch to begin the transformation into a rich, carefully detailed world. I assume it has something to do with maturity which, yes, I know, is highly ironic given the number of poop jokes I can level out at a person during an average conversation. Still, something changed. It wasn’t the way I wrote, necessarily, but the way I understood how I wrote things. I can only assume that is a by-product of my own understanding of the world altering. Even at 24, knowing that my writing was flimsy, I couldn’t create the proper voice that reflected my own vision.

Once again, I blame my time at University for educating me on what was going on in my own head. I’m less stubborn now, but more importantly, I think less of my own previous writing. I’m not looking back at what I wrote and thinking to myself, “Ah yes, this is perfect. I am brilliant and all will bow down to me. Bring me the head of Cussler and Frazen on two silver trays so I may kick them about the throne room like a football.” What I haven’t edited is still thin, watery, weak, and the editing process is grueling. Still, just like the addition of Beth as a foil to Natalia, making her a stronger, more vivid character, so too will each and everyone of these changes. The moral of my post? I don’t think any of us can claim we are so perfect that we can claim our writing to be flawless. We need to be willing to take a step back and say, “Hey, I’m acting like a fathead. I’m not THAT good, but with practice, I just might be.”

Unless you are Cussler or Franzen. Those guys will always be fatheads.

Subplot Inception

This week neither Ashley nor Kathleen could remember whose turn it was to post. Thusly they have developed their new segment “Work it Out Commentary, with Ashley and Kathleen.” This week Ashley and Kathleen play with the idea of subplots.

 

You know something, Ashley? I friggin love subplots. They are like bacon on sandwiches to me. Sure, you can have too much, but honestly, the line between not enough and too much is pretty wide.

 

I do love me a good subplot. I just finished a re-read a Deathly Hallows and Rowling is a master of this. I really enjoyed her “hey look over here!” approach. Just when you get a piece of information relative to one of the subplots something happens in the main plot, or just in the scene and you completely forget to think through what you just learned. It really kept me from figuring things out too early.

Sarcasm, Smarm, and ‘Splosions

By     Kathleen Sawisky

Yesterday I got over my hump. I’d been struggling with, I hesitate to call it writer’s block, for a few weeks now. Oh yeah, I had the plans, the good intentions. I even had the bottles of wine and requisite lumbar support pillows. Despite that I just couldn’t bring myself to actually sit down and make the darn changes I was so invested in.

So when I stumbled half hung-over into CC chat yesterday (only one of those things is a lie) and an impromptu sprint was announced I figured, what the hell, I’ll give it a shot.

That half-hour proved to be a mercy killing for my struggles.

Edited in explosion? Check.

Changed Andrew Wagner into a dilapidated old man? Check.

Spilled icy water on Howard Dreyzon’s lap, forcing him into the bathroom where he is subsequently attacked by Steven who makes it clear in no uncertain terms that he is lucky to be leaving the bathroom with all his dangly bits attached? Triple check!

That leaves me down to all minor edits. Oomph up Carmen’s creepy factor, insert the ghostly corporeal spirit of Steven’s dead child throughout the entire novel. A dash of zazz there, a pinch of zip there, and I think I’ll finally be able to step away from The Code: Book 1 and feel satisfied with the overall structure of it.

It’s been a long haul. TCB1 (Hey, I like that!) has been with me since I was diagnosed with scoliosis, for every hospital visit, every dramatic family moment, every time, good and bad. Twelve years is a long time to work on the same piece of writing, but I couldn’t have finished it any sooner than now. I was always too immature or too impatient, or too desperate to create a look of this or that. Too desperate to force emotions down the throats of readers because if I was feeling that surely everyone else should feel it too.

Somewhere in the last year and a half of editing and rewriting I watched the character of Natalia form into this confused, frightened child, with just the right amount of sass and confusion about the world that she’s been thrown into.

The narrative has all the matches laid out on the floor, ready to be lit the moment the moment strikes, and when everything is said and done, the world of Natalia Artison is going to explode like a fireball. This character has no idea what is about to come her way, and that excites me. I think part of the reason is because there has been a distinct pattern in Natalia’s development. Every time I’ve struggled with something, she has too. Every time I’m in pain, so is Natalia. Every time I experience family misfortune, she does too. For so long, Natalia was a means by for me to deal with the stress of life, but now she is moving on her own, and it’s freeing for me.

There are stills bits of me in her. The sarcasm, the smarm and sass, all my own. I don’t think there’s anything wrong of that in the long term. Don’t get me wrong, I want to avoid smarmy, self-inserted, Mary-Sues for all its worth. But Natalia is chalked full of flaws, failures, successes and growth that takes her away from everything similar to me.

Everything but the sarcasm, mind you. I like the sarcasm. I am keeping the sarcasm.

…

And the explosions.

Kathleen Sawisky is a satirist wannabe-writer in Calgary, Alberta who likes to drink beer and troll people on Twitter. You can read more of her work here!

And Now For a Brief Interlude

by     Kathleen Sawisky

I’m going to take a minute away from my school work to write up this post. I did leave it to the last minute, but in my defence I have been swamped with readings and study guides. Those of you on Critique Circle have probably seen me whine about them at least once. The basic concept is this: we read a piece of ancient, classical, modern, or post-modern literature and discuss how is applies to our current culture. Simple, right?

It actually is a lot of fun, but since doing them (this is the fourth class involving them) I’ve discovered that the way I read and write has changed drastically. Oh, I am still a sarcastic ass, that will never change. However, my ability to do close readings and ask questions has improved tenfold, and if there is one thing I think writer’s need to do more often, it’s ask questions. Maybe it’s just me, but for the longest while I was content to write something, lean back with a cigar between my fingers, a parakeet on my shoulder and say (in a snappy old-time radio voice), We’ve done it, Janet. It can’t get any better than this. Proof it and send it to the printer! The parakeet always complied, of course, because that is what I taught Janet to do.

Yes, I was absolutely content to write and say something happened because it needed to. I never bothered to ask myself why, at least not above the bare-bones “for the plot” answer. There was never any questioning about how it could have happened, or what the consequences might have been to the setting, outside of the main character or antagonist. That’s why I love these god-forsaken study guides. They make you work for it. They make you ask ‘but, why?’ like a petulant child, always looking for another answer.

In fact, the 5 W’s are my go to when someone on the CC chat has a question about what they should do in their manuscript. Who does it? Got that covered. Where? Also known. When? At night. I don’t know. Who cares? What? A diner, I don’t know, what is the point of this exercise? Why? And trust me, ‘plot advancement’ isn’t a good enough answer in any case. By trying to look at the bigger picture I’ve seen my own WiP grow in a way I never thought possible, and it is very exciting!

That’s not to say I think it always works. Maybe I’m just excessively inquisitive, or maybe I like the idea of pretending to be aforementioned petulant child. Even if it doesn’t work, it is still fun. It makes your brain spin out and consider things you might have otherwise ignored.

You don’t know me, man!

Now, if you’ll excuse me, Janet and I have to figure out what Heisenberg was getting at with his physics paper. And no, it’s not that Heisenberg. Unfortunately.

Kathleen Sawisky is a satirist from Calgary, Alberta, and likes writing open letters to people who annoy her in her spare time. You wouldn’t guess she had any of it, but apparently she does.

Be true to your writing.

By P.A.Thompson

Greetings.

A couple of days ago I went to a movie. American Sniper. Why? I was curious about the story and I didn’t feel like researching it. I like Bradley Cooper, who was getting rave reviews. The previews looked good, to me.

This is a really good movie. It has some good action, is technically correct, and is a character study of the man and the effects of his time in the service on him and his family. It doesn’t romanticize him being a sniper, or killing people, or go rah-rah USA. Open to all interpretations of course.

Secrets

by    Amber P.

I’ve recently come to realise that the most compelling aspect of fiction for me is the secrets in characters’ lives. A secret is an instant source of conflict, tension, consequences, and obstacles. It has the potential to make every action and conversation harder for the character. A single slip up could ruin their life, cost them their job, or their loved ones. Or it could be a smaller secret, something on the side that doesn’t impact the main plot so much, but has an influence over one or more relationships with other characters.

Hidden love, secret identities, drug addictions, heritage, spies, traitors, online personas, special training, genetic handicap, terminal illness, social stigmas, past crimes–there are so many varied and wonderful secrets a character can have, covering the entire spectrum of significance to the plot and shock factor, but they all have one thing in common: they make life hard for the character, and that tension is what sucks us in. Who’s going to find out? How will they react? How’s she going to keep this a secret under these circumstances? Will he out himself to save someone or something?

He Ordered the Lobster and Fillet Mignon

by     Amber P.

 

First chapters make promises. There’s continual debate in writing communities over the nuances of an opening–what belongs in a first line, a first paragraph, a first page. People debate about the amount of description versus action, the establishment of POV, how much information to give away. We try to quantify what, exactly, a “hook” is, and when we need it by. We spend hours crafting that first sentence, and get into arguments on whether or not it’s okay for it to be dialogue. Out of all the discussions and ponderings, I think we can safely extract an underlying theme that holds true regardless of genre or style: first chapters make promises.

When you pick up a book from a new author, even if it’s been recommended to you, they haven’t established your trust. It’s a bit like a first date (a blind date if a friend told you to read it). Just as you’ll develop your opinion of your date based on their conduct, mannerisms, and common courtesy, the first chapter of this new novel is creating the first impressions of the author. There’s the grammar and use of language–your date’s fashion sense and hygiene. The character–their personality. The scene and action–what they do for a living, what they like to talk about. The execution of the story–your date’s charm and charisma. Sorry, I’m getting analogy-happy. My point is that regardless of what a “hook” means to you, or what particular balance you expect of setting-character-plot in the first few paragraphs, the first chapter gives you a taste of your “chemistry” with the novel, and if it goes very poorly, you might not ask them back for a second date.

Outlining My WIP? Who, Me?

by       D.M. Gutierrez

 

Wait! Not that kind of outline!

Last week I talked about Aeon Timeline, Scrivener, and Scapple—all useful writing tools I recently discovered (yes, I came late to the party, so?). This week I have been wading through Critique Circle’s Outlining* Workshop tool. I’ve been a member of CC for four years, but had never taken a look at it. Now I wish I had! Because the template that I chose—Society –  fantasy (maybe sci-fi)—has been helping me to fill in the blanks in some world-building areas I knew I was lacking in, as well as some facets of my world I never even thought about.

Here are some examples:

Chapter Eight

By P.A.Thompson

When is a flashback not a flashback?

When is a chapter not a chapter?

When is nothing okay for a chapter?

Why won’t I just rename Chapter Nine to Chapter Eight?

Why do dominos fall better if they are all facing the same way?

Thick crust or thin crust Pizza?

Are boneless wings better than chicken Mc’nuggets?

Chapter Eight: Is it magical?

When will we find out the true story of Willie’s death?

Chapter Nine: Is it just being stubborn or are there reasons beyond our knowing?

Do you love your characters?

Is the dog the big attraction?

Nine is divine – or is it?

Eight is greight. Not a question.

Click on “read more” 😉

Stuck in the Middle

by P.A.Thompson

I guess this is one of the costs of pantsing your story, right now I am Stuck in the Middle (more cowbell!).

Clowns to the left of me,
Jokers to the right, here I am,
Stuck in the middle with you.

And by you, I mean my WiP.

As I’ve said before, my WiP started as a short short in response to a writing prompt on one of my teachers’ blog (My entry is a few screens down under PAT). I liked the characters, Marty and the dog, so I wanted to expand.

Who is Marty? Hmmm, don’t know yet. Okay, then where is he going? Don’t know that either, probably nowhere. Yeah, that’s good, he’s going nowhere.

Click on “read more” 😉