Jessica Titone's Blog - Posts Tagged "writing"
The Public Library
I live in a small town. My parish (Louisiana doesn't have counties) is comprised of four small towns looped together in an interestingly shaped polygon. We have exactly one public library in the parish seat. It's old and outdated in a number of ways. It's also usually pretty empty. Each Saturday morning, rain or shine, I get up, get dressed, pack up my computer, and head to the library to sit at table nestled in the "Louisiana" section. This spot has become a haven to me because unlike my home where two small, loud children reside with myself and my large, loud husband, no one talks to me. No one asks me for anything. No one clings to my limbs and pulls. No one suddenly becomes really quiet while they're secretly destroying every nice thing we have.
In my spot, protected by the wall of Louisiana history books that no one will ever read, I can easily push out a thousand words. I can read through novels and post semi-competent sounding reviews. I can also watch ballet videos on YouTube and transcribe what I see into the dance scenes I stubbornly insert into my books, though I have zero experience with ballet.
Let me tell you what else I can do - I can check out books. No, I don't mean the dusty ones sitting on the shelf that no one wants. I mean ebooks. There exists this lovely little app called Overdrive. On it, is your local public library's network of ebooks. Thousands of them! Things you actually want to read! For freeeeeee! (Okay, not really for free. You paid for them with your tax dollars, but it feels like it's free.) With a book appetite like mine, I can easily spend hundreds a month buying them the old fashioned way. Review swaps have helped cut the cost. A lot of indie authors will trade you their book for a read-through, an intelligent sounding review, and your soul. They don't explicitly ask for your soul, but that ends up what being requires when you accidentally volunteer to review a book that's dreadful. Luckily, I haven't come across many of those.
Once on a work trip, I got stuck in an elevator with my colleagues. They panicked a bit, but I had my phone in hand. So I said, "It's okay. I've got a new book on my Overdrive app." This lead to them questioning what Overdrive was and then me going on and on about the greatness of the public library for a few minutes. They eyed me curiously and then said something to the effect of, "Yeah, that's great, Jess. But we need to concentrate on getting out of this elevator." I've had a few other opportunities to sing the library's praises, but they've all gone about the same (sans elevator panic). So now I'm telling you guys - a community of voracious readers and writers just like me. The library is not a dead institution, but it's getting overshadowed by Amazon, coffeehouses, and other modern advancements. Any further decline and I'll have to organize marathons to raise awareness about the benefits of libraries. Ya'll - I am not cut out to organize social functions or do anything remotely related to marathons. So I am going to write about it. I'm going to talk to my friends about it. And I'm going to continue to go there on Saturday mornings.
In my spot, protected by the wall of Louisiana history books that no one will ever read, I can easily push out a thousand words. I can read through novels and post semi-competent sounding reviews. I can also watch ballet videos on YouTube and transcribe what I see into the dance scenes I stubbornly insert into my books, though I have zero experience with ballet.
Let me tell you what else I can do - I can check out books. No, I don't mean the dusty ones sitting on the shelf that no one wants. I mean ebooks. There exists this lovely little app called Overdrive. On it, is your local public library's network of ebooks. Thousands of them! Things you actually want to read! For freeeeeee! (Okay, not really for free. You paid for them with your tax dollars, but it feels like it's free.) With a book appetite like mine, I can easily spend hundreds a month buying them the old fashioned way. Review swaps have helped cut the cost. A lot of indie authors will trade you their book for a read-through, an intelligent sounding review, and your soul. They don't explicitly ask for your soul, but that ends up what being requires when you accidentally volunteer to review a book that's dreadful. Luckily, I haven't come across many of those.
Once on a work trip, I got stuck in an elevator with my colleagues. They panicked a bit, but I had my phone in hand. So I said, "It's okay. I've got a new book on my Overdrive app." This lead to them questioning what Overdrive was and then me going on and on about the greatness of the public library for a few minutes. They eyed me curiously and then said something to the effect of, "Yeah, that's great, Jess. But we need to concentrate on getting out of this elevator." I've had a few other opportunities to sing the library's praises, but they've all gone about the same (sans elevator panic). So now I'm telling you guys - a community of voracious readers and writers just like me. The library is not a dead institution, but it's getting overshadowed by Amazon, coffeehouses, and other modern advancements. Any further decline and I'll have to organize marathons to raise awareness about the benefits of libraries. Ya'll - I am not cut out to organize social functions or do anything remotely related to marathons. So I am going to write about it. I'm going to talk to my friends about it. And I'm going to continue to go there on Saturday mornings.
Side Projects
(Note: I know I said the soundtrack posts were coming, but I'm finding that this issue is more appropriate for today.)
Diana Gabaldon wrote a post recently about her work process. As I admire her both as a creative writer and a determined human being, I drank down every word of it as fast as I could. It’s here.
If you’re not interested in reading, I’ll summarize the part that was most interesting to me – something she dubbed “the rotation.” When she was writing her first book (Outlander, for all of you who are living in the dark), she was also in the midst of raising children and holding down two full time jobs. Sound familiar? Probably. Her only time to write was late at night after her kids were in bed. She’d sit down to write her novel, and then, as most writers do, she’d fizzle out after a certain amount of text. For her, this equated to about two thirds of a page. That’s not much, especially when you consider the epic length of most of her work.
Now, she could have sat there staring at the blinking cursor until inspiration hit, but that wastes time. Remember that she’s only got this precious, finite amount each night. There’s no time for staring. So what she did is she cycled through projects. When she hit the wall with Outlander, she’d move onto her text book project, or grant proposal. By the end of her time allotment (which I believe was something like three hours), she’d have accomplished a few pages of each.
Momentum is a huge factor in writing. It’s like anything else, but I’m going to use running as my metaphor. I hate running. The first few moments of it are so dreadful that I feel as though my lungs or legs might suddenly give out at any second. But after a few minutes of running, my body acclimates and I’m able to run farther and longer than I thought at the start. Your writing “wall” is that ugly running spot where your legs and lungs threaten to give out. If you stop, chances are you’ll be stuck at the same place the next time you try. But if you keep going, you’ll improve. Since it’s nearly impossible to keep writing once you hit the wall on something, it seems the only way to overcome this hurdle is to write something else.
Writers need side projects. For most of us, time to write is extremely precious and rare. Who wants to spend it working something that takes away from your main work in progress? While I agree that you should definitely devote as much time as possible to your main project, I firmly believe that a side project will make you a stronger, better writer in addition to improving your productivity.
So, why am I talking about this today? I’ve been working on my second novel. It’s Book 2 of the Watermarked series, if you’re wondering. Not many people have read Book 1, so I doubt anyone’s wondering. I’m in the same boat as Diana with the whole full-time job, raising young children, no time to write problem. I was moving along at a frighteningly rapid pace on the rough draft of Book 2. It’s worth noting here that I usually write painfully slowly, so anything faster than that gets labeled as “frightening.” Yesterday I got stuck, and I panicked.
The reasons for my sudden halt make sense: oldest kid had a double ear infection, I had several doctor’s appointments this week, my entire Monday was occupied with work meetings, book sales have completely stagnated, and I’m questioning the silly notion of having a writing career, etc. Knowing these things did little to remedy the feeling of doom that had wormed its way into my brain. I indulged it for a whole afternoon, and if I’m being truthful, even part of the next morning. While I’m not fully recovered from the anxiety ridden downward spiral, I’m doing better right now. Why? Because I started working on a new book.
It’s an idea that’s been rattling around in my head since 2012, according to the save date on the outline document sitting in my Google drive. It's a little YA, a little fantasy/fairy tale, and a little out of my wheelhouse. Writing it feels like I’m betraying my main work, but I’m fighting hard against it. Progress on Watermarked Book 2 is slow moving today, but you know what? It’s moving. And that’s something.
Diana Gabaldon wrote a post recently about her work process. As I admire her both as a creative writer and a determined human being, I drank down every word of it as fast as I could. It’s here.
If you’re not interested in reading, I’ll summarize the part that was most interesting to me – something she dubbed “the rotation.” When she was writing her first book (Outlander, for all of you who are living in the dark), she was also in the midst of raising children and holding down two full time jobs. Sound familiar? Probably. Her only time to write was late at night after her kids were in bed. She’d sit down to write her novel, and then, as most writers do, she’d fizzle out after a certain amount of text. For her, this equated to about two thirds of a page. That’s not much, especially when you consider the epic length of most of her work.
Now, she could have sat there staring at the blinking cursor until inspiration hit, but that wastes time. Remember that she’s only got this precious, finite amount each night. There’s no time for staring. So what she did is she cycled through projects. When she hit the wall with Outlander, she’d move onto her text book project, or grant proposal. By the end of her time allotment (which I believe was something like three hours), she’d have accomplished a few pages of each.
Momentum is a huge factor in writing. It’s like anything else, but I’m going to use running as my metaphor. I hate running. The first few moments of it are so dreadful that I feel as though my lungs or legs might suddenly give out at any second. But after a few minutes of running, my body acclimates and I’m able to run farther and longer than I thought at the start. Your writing “wall” is that ugly running spot where your legs and lungs threaten to give out. If you stop, chances are you’ll be stuck at the same place the next time you try. But if you keep going, you’ll improve. Since it’s nearly impossible to keep writing once you hit the wall on something, it seems the only way to overcome this hurdle is to write something else.
Writers need side projects. For most of us, time to write is extremely precious and rare. Who wants to spend it working something that takes away from your main work in progress? While I agree that you should definitely devote as much time as possible to your main project, I firmly believe that a side project will make you a stronger, better writer in addition to improving your productivity.
So, why am I talking about this today? I’ve been working on my second novel. It’s Book 2 of the Watermarked series, if you’re wondering. Not many people have read Book 1, so I doubt anyone’s wondering. I’m in the same boat as Diana with the whole full-time job, raising young children, no time to write problem. I was moving along at a frighteningly rapid pace on the rough draft of Book 2. It’s worth noting here that I usually write painfully slowly, so anything faster than that gets labeled as “frightening.” Yesterday I got stuck, and I panicked.
The reasons for my sudden halt make sense: oldest kid had a double ear infection, I had several doctor’s appointments this week, my entire Monday was occupied with work meetings, book sales have completely stagnated, and I’m questioning the silly notion of having a writing career, etc. Knowing these things did little to remedy the feeling of doom that had wormed its way into my brain. I indulged it for a whole afternoon, and if I’m being truthful, even part of the next morning. While I’m not fully recovered from the anxiety ridden downward spiral, I’m doing better right now. Why? Because I started working on a new book.
It’s an idea that’s been rattling around in my head since 2012, according to the save date on the outline document sitting in my Google drive. It's a little YA, a little fantasy/fairy tale, and a little out of my wheelhouse. Writing it feels like I’m betraying my main work, but I’m fighting hard against it. Progress on Watermarked Book 2 is slow moving today, but you know what? It’s moving. And that’s something.
How to Write a Novel in Eight Steps
Step One: The First Draft
Have an idea. Make an detailed outline, fly the by the seat of your pants, or do a combination of both. Doesn't matter - just get it done. Conduct five million Google searches. Watch YouTube videos when words fail you. Listen to music you can ignore. Set a daily word requirement and consistently meet it until you've gotten the whole storyline down on digital paper. Be proud of your accomplishment. Think to yourself, "The hard part's over."
Step Two: The Read Through
Read what you wrote. Figure out that your dialogue bears no resemblance to the way that actual people talk. Edit language and phrasing to make it sound more natural, clarify wording, simplify anything that's too complex or confusing. Set a date for the book's release. Create a cover. Think to yourself, "I'm almost done. The end's in sight."
Step Three: The Alpha Read
Summon the courage to show your work to another human. Identify a human with a knack for telling you the truth. Give you precious manuscript to that person. Wait forever for them to read it. Try to listen to their opinion objectively. Hold your tongue when you want to fire something back because your feelings are hurt. Live in denial a little while. Cry when you realize how much time and effort it will take to fix everything. Pick up the shattered bits of your ego from the floor. Think to yourself, "I can't do this."
Step Four: The Rewrite
Rebound. Have an epiphany about how to fix everything while driving 70 mph down the interstate. Talk it all into your speech to text app while sitting in carpool. Kill your darlings. Create a separate document to house them because you have trouble letting go. Write new ones in their place. Retrofit existing chapters to suit your changes. Hold your sick kid and try not to think about how you should be writing. Reread what you wrote. Have another go at the parts that still don't work. Think to yourself, "This is where the real work begins."
Step Five: The Beta Read
Identify at least two people who would be willing to read your work. Use the internet to source them if you can't find them. Read between the lines when the comments come back. Twist. Tweak. Add. Subtract. Think to yourself, "It's almost there. Almost. Just keep going."
Step Six: The Proofreading
Run "Spelling and Grammar Check". Hit the "Ignore" button more times than you thought possible. Find a grammar nazi with eagle eyes. Give that person your manuscript. Don't mind so much when it comes back bleeding with red marks. Pour over every line. Obsess over every word. Think, "If I look at this any longer, my brain is going to bleed out of my ears."
Step Seven: The Reflection
Put the damned thing away. Work on the blurb. Work on the acknowledgements. Work on the copyright page. Anything but read that book again. Pick it up when the thought of putting a match to it summons tears instead of joy. Read it one last time. Decide that it's good (or good enough). Think, "I can't believe I did this."
Step Eight: The Publication
Publish in any way you see fit. Tell your family. Tell you friends. Tell all of your social media. Tell them again. Hope. Pray. Worry. Promote. Think, "Time to write another one."
Repeat until you've got a good excuse not to.
Have an idea. Make an detailed outline, fly the by the seat of your pants, or do a combination of both. Doesn't matter - just get it done. Conduct five million Google searches. Watch YouTube videos when words fail you. Listen to music you can ignore. Set a daily word requirement and consistently meet it until you've gotten the whole storyline down on digital paper. Be proud of your accomplishment. Think to yourself, "The hard part's over."
Step Two: The Read Through
Read what you wrote. Figure out that your dialogue bears no resemblance to the way that actual people talk. Edit language and phrasing to make it sound more natural, clarify wording, simplify anything that's too complex or confusing. Set a date for the book's release. Create a cover. Think to yourself, "I'm almost done. The end's in sight."
Step Three: The Alpha Read
Summon the courage to show your work to another human. Identify a human with a knack for telling you the truth. Give you precious manuscript to that person. Wait forever for them to read it. Try to listen to their opinion objectively. Hold your tongue when you want to fire something back because your feelings are hurt. Live in denial a little while. Cry when you realize how much time and effort it will take to fix everything. Pick up the shattered bits of your ego from the floor. Think to yourself, "I can't do this."
Step Four: The Rewrite
Rebound. Have an epiphany about how to fix everything while driving 70 mph down the interstate. Talk it all into your speech to text app while sitting in carpool. Kill your darlings. Create a separate document to house them because you have trouble letting go. Write new ones in their place. Retrofit existing chapters to suit your changes. Hold your sick kid and try not to think about how you should be writing. Reread what you wrote. Have another go at the parts that still don't work. Think to yourself, "This is where the real work begins."
Step Five: The Beta Read
Identify at least two people who would be willing to read your work. Use the internet to source them if you can't find them. Read between the lines when the comments come back. Twist. Tweak. Add. Subtract. Think to yourself, "It's almost there. Almost. Just keep going."
Step Six: The Proofreading
Run "Spelling and Grammar Check". Hit the "Ignore" button more times than you thought possible. Find a grammar nazi with eagle eyes. Give that person your manuscript. Don't mind so much when it comes back bleeding with red marks. Pour over every line. Obsess over every word. Think, "If I look at this any longer, my brain is going to bleed out of my ears."
Step Seven: The Reflection
Put the damned thing away. Work on the blurb. Work on the acknowledgements. Work on the copyright page. Anything but read that book again. Pick it up when the thought of putting a match to it summons tears instead of joy. Read it one last time. Decide that it's good (or good enough). Think, "I can't believe I did this."
Step Eight: The Publication
Publish in any way you see fit. Tell your family. Tell you friends. Tell all of your social media. Tell them again. Hope. Pray. Worry. Promote. Think, "Time to write another one."
Repeat until you've got a good excuse not to.
