This has been one of those weeks that’s kinda gone off the rails.
I mean that strictly in terms of rewriting stuff. I’ve barely touched Cold Iron. I have, instead, blown the dust off of my freelance gaming writing hat. I’m working on two articles, one with a definite home and one I’ll need to shop around.
I need to remind myself that it’s important for me to keep writing, even if I think what I write is never going to be read. There may be similar articles out there to the one’s I’m working on during lunch breaks and in the other cracks in my daily schedule, but I do have a perspective that’s unique from that of other people. I mean, everybody has a unique perspective, since we don’t share a hive mind or anything, but my point is that I shouldn’t be afraid to share what’s on my mind because something similar may have come before.
Hopefully I’ll have more to ‘report’ on next week, after this busy weekend passes and I wrap up these articles.
Another featurette from Ridley Scott’s upcoming sci-fi thriller Prometheus is available for viewing. As excited as I am for the film, and in light of my peculiar adoration of Michael Fassbender, the temptation is to jump all over it and begin salivating. However, I think I’ve reached the saturation point of hype. If I watch any more promotional material, my enthusiasm may begin to diminish. I am, in a sense, hyped out.
A friend of mine is in a similar situation with The Avengers. I offered to link him the latest clip of a conversation between Bruce Banner and Natasha Romanov, but he politely declined. There’s simply so much hype out there that maintaining a heightened level of enthusiasm gets exhausting after a while. I’m sure the film will be fun, but it’s entirely possible that there’s too much hype getting built up around it.
As positive as “the buzz” may be for these films, there’s that little part of me that warns me about something being over-hyped. More than once, especially in films and video games, a hot new title has been hyped all over the place only to ultimately disappoint its would-be fans once released. Only the most ignorant and wide-eyed optimists can ignore such cautionary tales and believe that whatever it is that’s being hyped will be 110% awesome.
Then again, despite not watching further promotional material, these films are still being discussed. So perhaps the hype has done its job already? It’s difficult to say. There may not, in fact, be such a thing as too much hype. I’m not certain. I’m not in marketing. I always feel a bit odd shilling things I do, but I guess I need to get over that if I intend on selling my writing.
As the time approached for Angry Robot to open its doors, I knew I had to make some decisions. The first one was to convince myself that this is not a young adult book. While two of the three main protagonists are in their late teens, a hundred thousand words is an intimidating number with which to start off a story. I also couldn’t convince myself that kids in their teens could get behind a protagonist who has a tendency to think and talk his way out of situations instead of relying on physical or supernatural prowess. Maybe I’ve just been too burned out lately to find the right angle to exploit, but what it boils down to is that Asherian, while pro-active in his words and deeds, doesn’t start out as the initiator of the story. Events happen to him and he reacts. It takes a few chapters for him to shake off the complacency he’s been taught. Once the scales fall from his eyes, so to speak, he begins taking more initiative. But I think a young adult protagonist takes the reigns almost immediately, at least when written well. Case in point would be Katniss volunteering in The Hunger Games.
In any event, I went over the first five chapters again to make sure the flow and setup are as good as I can make them, put together the two-page synopsis, and sent the whole shebang to Angry Robot. I also renamed it Cities of Light. Fingers and toes crossed.
While waiting for that to at least return with something resembling feedback, my attentions turn back to Cold Iron. This is a rewrite that still requires a bit of spit and polish, as timing of events within the story and some character beats have changed. It was hard for me to decide a decent scene between the lady detective and the murderer, set in the interrogation room, had to be cut. But I simply could not work the timeline properly to make it work without padding the story, and more importantly, making sure to empower said lady detective was far more important.
Cold Iron is, to me, the lean and energetic kitten to Cities‘ cozy but somewhat massive tomcat. It’s a novella and I want to keep it short. The cover is coming together extremely well, and once that is in place and I finish this particular rewrite, I’ll be sending some review copies of the draft to folks I know with platforms to shout from. I may propose said review drafts in the same manner as a pitch – brief synopsis, what makes this story worth the time to read, etc.
Anthologies may happen. Timeless Tales for the old myths made new thing, maybe a flash fiction collection. Not certain of that yet.
I also am brewing an idea I’m pretty excited about. I think there’s an itch out there not getting the particular scratch it needs.
But that’ll come later. Gotta finish what I’ve started already first.
So there was a bit of a billing hiccup with my web host in the middle of PAX East. Inconvenient, to be sure, but I don’t think anything of value was lost. My host, Wizzerdwerks, are relatively cool people and haven’t really given me any problems. And now that the money side is sorted, everything’s exactly where I left it.
Big things are coming this week. I’ll be back to my usual Flash Fiction schedule; as long as Chuck is tossing out challenges, I’ll be accepting ’em. Provided they don’t involve licking paint off of an old swingset or something like that. I’m wrapping up the Citizen rewrite, gearing up for a final push of edits and prep work for Cold Iron, I have a few articles to draft and at least a couple reviews to prepare. Will IT CAME FROM NETFLIX! return? I’m not sure. Maybe once I finally get myself a good microphone. Which will happen after we move.
Oh, yeah. Did I mention the house we rent space in got sold out from under us? Since we’re month to month we can’t do much about that. So we’re scouting new apartments with more space and amenities, with a move-by date of June 1. Fun stuff!
It’s been years since I’ve seen Rocky. I know, as someone who even tangentially identifies as a Philadelphian, I should watch it more often. But I remember Mickey. I remember him training Rocky, talking him up, telling him things about eating lightning and crapping thunder. In pretty much any story involving a fighter, the pep talks are meant to bolster the fighter’s confidence, before they step into the ring to take a few more punches to the face.
I’ve never, personally, been punched in the face. Not physically. Metaphorically, though, I’ve had my share of right hooks to the jaw.
And to be honest, I’m a better person for it.
I don’t mean that in the sense that I’m better than any of the people around me or any of you fine, wonderful strangers who’ve happened upon this blog. I mean that in the sense that I’m better than I used to be. By no stretch am I a perfect person. Hell, there are days when I struggle to just be good, or at least good enough. Good enough to hold down a dayjob, good enough to not suck at writing or gaming, good enough for a wife or my family or my cats to stick around.
This appreciation has come from rejection, and if I continue on this honest streak, I wouldn’t be where I am without it.
I’ve been told my work wasn’t good enough, that it didn’t live up to its promises, that I failed in this aspect or that way. And I’ve improved because of it. It’s tempting at times to let such things overwhelm one’s psyche, to let the negativity wash away potential energy as sure as a skier slamming into a tree or an offensive jab leading to your jaw getting rocked by a counter-cross. I’m not up on boxing lingo, so if I’m wrong please don’t hit me not in the face.
Anyway. Writers. You’re going to get rejected.
It’s the way things go. Even if you go down the e-publishing route, you should pass your work in front of other eyes – test readers, editors, etc. Strangers, if at all possible. And more than likely they’ll call you out on something they don’t like. Don’t shy away from this. Don’t avoid it. Do not, under any circumstances, tell these fine people that “it’s MY work” and “you just don’t get it.” You will not advance as an artist if you clutch your work to your chest, run to your cave, and proclaim that it belongs to you and nobody else has any say on the matter.
You do that and my knuckles are going to itch to say hello to your chin.
What, do you think art is immutable? Do you operate under the notion that once a word is set down, it can never be changed? Is a painter or film director some sort of demigod whose works cannot be approached by mere mortals? Are games quantum-locked in the state in which we find them on the shelf or our hard drives, only changing behind the curtain of a developer’s studios when we aren’t watching them? Don’t be an idiot. I challenge any film critic to tell me that any cut Ridley Scott made of one of his films is worse than the studio’s theatrical release. The Anniversary Edition of Halo is not only a lot easier on the eyes but also helps expand some of the less solid story points of the universe, and in fact does its job so well I have had to re-examine my feelings on that franchise in general. It is a better product than the original, and only because they changed stuff in it. Minor stuff, to be sure, but stuff was changed nonetheless. Change is good. To reject change is to reject the notion that art is alive, or important, or even necessary.
Let me be clear on something before I wrap this up. I don’t think my opinion’s the only one that matters. This is not the word of Caesar being dispensed from on high onto the unwashed masses. This is one opinion from one ultra-geek who happens to have a semi-established corner of the forum to shout from while he’s pelted with things.
But the fact remains. Rejection happens, and as much as it hurts, it’s good for you.
So suck up the punches there, Rocky. Take a few shots to the face. Bleed a bit. It’s going to happen, so you might as well get used to it. That’s not the important part.
The important part is you punch back. You don’t mind the pain. And you get back up.
If you can keep doing that, no matter how many times it happens, no matter how long it takes, no matter how much it hurts or how broken and lost and lonely you feel, you’ll make it.
As Chuck Wendig says, writing (or game development, or art, or anything that involves breaking free of cubicles and TPS reports and HR looking over your shoulder and long-ass meetings) is putting a bucket over your head and smashing it into a brick wall over and over and over again.
