Author: Scott William Carter

A Psychological Stew

About halfway through my second pass on the young adult fantasy, and so far, I’m feeling good about this draft. It definitely has a richer texture than the previous ones. The reality never quite matches up with the vision I have in my mind, but I find that the more I work at my craft, the closer I get to the vision. At least, sometimes. There are also times such as yesterday, when I took a break from the novel to work on a story for an upcoming horror anthology, when I lapsed into moments of despair at how big the gulf is between the kind of writer I want to be and the kind of write that I am — or, as I said to my wife, that my reach seems so much farther than my grasp. But then a couple things happened, as they often do, to pull me out of this mood. First, as I was transferring this story from my desktop computer to my laptop, I happened to use a disk I hadn’t used in years, and it turned out that on this desk were a couple of stories from four or five years ago. Reading them, I nearly gagged at how bad they were (so bad I quickly dropped them from inventory, and, apparently, also from my conscious mind). It made me feel better, knowing that the million or so words I wrote in the interval weren’t wasted, that my craft had definitely improved in that time.

Then, making me feel even better, I got my galleys for my upcoming story in Analog (“A Christmas in Amber”) in the mail. Looking over the story, which will be my third appearance there, I suddenly realized that I could, in a way, now be considered a regular contributor — and how strange this feeling was, making me remember when I was wet-behind-the-ears eighteen year old freshman in college having late night coffee with a bunch of other aspiring writers, dreaming of the day when my name would appear in what’s called the Big Three in the science fiction field (F&SF and Asimov’s being the other two). So while I would prefer that these nagging doubts and black moods vanish as I progress as a writer, I’m thinking that ain’t all that likely. But at least I’ve got more life preservers to keep me from drowning in my own psychological stew. That’s something.

In reading news, finished Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince a couple weeks ago. Say what you want about Rowling’s literary merit, this woman is a hell of a storyteller. You might toss off the first book as lightning in a bottle, but you don’t captivate millions of readers for six books unless you’re spinning a great yarn. And this is a great yarn. Can’t wait for the final book.

Productivity

Well, my novel-in-a-week challenge last week went pretty well. I ended up doing just short of 70,000 words, definitely a one week record for me, which is the equivalent word count of a book. However, I didn’t quite finish it — it’s my third run at a young adult fantasy I’m trying to get right — but it’s close. Just a chapter and a half to go.

All in all, I’m glad I did this, as I’ve always found I work well under pressure. It was also helpful to have other writers participating; we had our own virtual writing community, and each night we posted our totals as well as shared our struggles and triumphs. Did we all come away with sellable books? Who knows. In the end, I really ended up writing not much faster than my normal drafting speed; I just put in a lot more hours. The book still needs work. It’s a lot better than the first two drafts, I think, but I’m going to have to go over it chapter by chapter, most of all for setting and sensory details, but also for voice miscues. Still, I feel good about this one. I feel like I know what to do. It’s just a matter of doing it.

Lately, I’ve been gearing myself up to really increase my productivity, and this week helped kicked things off. I’ve been fairly productive the last three years (probably about a quarter of a million words of fiction a year, spread between novels and short stories), but I know I can do better. When it comes down to it, if you want to “make it” as a professional fiction writer — however you define that — the only thing you can really control that has a direct bearing on your chances of success is your production. Of course, you must also strive to get better, studying, learning from others who have walked the road, but none of that matters much if you don’t produce.

So I’m upping my productivity goals. It’s a fine balancing act, what with a full time job, a supportive wife, and a two year old, but it can be done. What I give up — television, mostly — I don’t miss much. What really drives me, and what will continue to drive me no matter how far I go with my writing career, is the desire to become the best storyteller I can be. I get so many rewards from that pursuit that it makes the short term sacrifices worth it.

Road Trips and Reading

Took a two-week whirlwind road trip with my wife, seeing Arizona, New Mexico, Utah, a tiny bit of Texas, and a chunk of southern California. The initial excuse was to see the Grand Canyon, which neither of us had seen before, but we also saw a number of other national parks: Crater Lake (we’d been there before, but always love seeing it), Lassen National Park, Bryce Canyon, Zion National Park, and Carlsbad Caverns among them. We made a stop in San Diego, staying at a nice resort on Mission Bay called Paradise Point, and then capped off our trip with a day at Disneyland. Highlights also included: stopping in Rachel, Nevada, ten miles from Area 51, after our car was attacked by a swarm of grasshoppers; horseback riding in Red Canyon; watching 400,000 bats make their nightly exit out of a cave one night short of a full moon; and buying our ticket to the UFO Museum in Roswell, New Mexico from the man who started it: Lt. Walter Haut, the public information officer in the Air Force ordered to release the press release saying the government had, indeed, recovered an alien spacecraft in 1947 (only to have him later ordered to retract it). Recent good reads: The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold and Mr. Paradise by Elmore Leonard. Sebold’s was interesting because of the point of view, the fourteen year old main character essentially a ghost who follows what happens to her family and friends after her murder (I’m not giving anything away here, because the murder happens in the opening pages) — which, from a writer’s point of view, is a nifty way of being able to tell a story from an omniscient point of view. Paradise had all the things that make Leonard fun — great dialog, snappy writing, colorful characters — but I don’t think it’s one of his better books. It’s already starting to fade in my mind.

Not much writing done during the trip, but it’s slowly coming back up to speed. Taking a week off next week from the day job to do some marathon writing, which should be interesting. It’s the third draft of a young adult fantasy I’m trying to get right, making it easier to put in some long days (since I know the story), but I’ve never done more than two marathon days in a row before (which I define as writing for at least eight hours a day). See how it goes.

Relentlessly Readable

I had never read any John Irving so I thought I’d give him a shot. I was aware of his work from the books that were turned into movies (The Cidar House Rules, The World According to Garp), but we all know that watching a movie adapted from a book and reading the book itself are two completely different experiences. My wife had recently read A Widow for One Year and heartily recommended it, so I thought I’d pick up the paperback and give him 50 pages (my standard for trying out a new author). I was pleasantly surprised.

One of the qualities I strive for in my own writing is to make it relentlessly readable. I don’t always succeed, but accessibility–meaning, the ease at which the reader is pulled into and through the story–is very important to me. I’m also acutely aware of it when reading others.

One of the masters is, of course, Stephen King. If you haven’t read him before, you really should, and don’t be put off by his reputation as a horror writer. True, he’s written lots of horror, but his writing is a lot more diverse than that. Try Bag of Bones, one of his recent novels, which mixes suspense, romance, and even a bit of the John Grisham legal thriller, or his most recent story collection, Everything’s Eventual. There’s masterful writing in both that novel and the short stories.

John Irving’s one of those writers, just like Stephen King. He meanders frequently, and there were times that I was tempted to skim, but I never did because I was afraid I’d miss something good. Definitely a master storyteller.

Other great recent reads: L.A. Dead by Stuart Woods (good, pulpy mystery and A Redbird Christmas by Fannie Flagg (unapologetically sentimental, but I’ve always been a sucker for a good sentimental story.