Category: Writing (page 80 of 81)

Twelve Fifty

Bard

1250 was rough.

I’m not referring to the year, although the Naple’s Plague certainly wasn’t a picnic for everybody. Instead, last night I sat down and raised my per-day goal from 1000 words to 1250. Now, maybe it was because I spent the first hour or so after getting home installing Oblivion on the main PC so my wife can play it eventually, or maybe it was due to the lingering lethargy of a dreary Monday full of mundanity and blandness, but for some reason, hitting that 1250 mark last night was a lot more difficult than any of the 1000-word goals I made and exceeded last week.

The reason I chose 1250 as a better per-day goal is simple. I’ve projected this little novel of mine to top out at around 125,000 words, and 1250 is 1% of that total. I’d like to try and estimate when I’m going to finish this thing, and tracking my progress as I pursue this daily goal should help me do that.

I’ve also got a review of Portal to put together, as well as Assassin’s Creed II now that I’ve finished it, and I need to find time to watch either Adaptation. or The Taking of Pelham 123 before Friday unless I want to toss together a ICFN post about Predator focusing on things other than the gratuitous gun porn and how impressive Clicky McCrabface still looks.

And I have an apartment to pack.

But I’ll get at least 1250 a day, by God. I was thinking last night, at one point, “Oh, maybe I can stop at a grand.” But I saw that idea for the slippery slope that it was and curbstomped it. Because tomorrow it’d be “Oh, 750 is enough for tonight, time for more Mass Effect.” The next day would have me thinking “I’ll stop at 500, the cat needs some attention.” So on and so forth until I’m wondering why I’ve spent decades suffering from ignominy and a lack of respectability among my published friends and why those damn kids won’t get the hell off of my lawn.

So just because it was difficult does not mean I’m giving up, dammit. Tonight will see me writing another 1250, at least. The more I can do, the better.

Of course, there’s the fact hanging over me that finishing this word count is just the beginning. There’s the revising, getting proofreads done by willing subjects friends, and begging an agent for attention.

But one step at a time. One word at a time. Until I hit twelve fifty tonight, then it’s game time.

Thoughts on Blogging

The Thinker

Today’s one of those days where I just have to admit: “Yeah, I got nothin’.”

I know there are some out there who believe that there’s no point in putting up a blog post if it’s not going to be about anything significant. I try to post every day, but I don’t operate under the impression that everything I say is going to carry deep meaning. Not every brick that drops out of the sphincter of my mind is going to be a golden one. Mostly I do it to maintain some sort of readership/following. So if you’re still here, thanks for putting up with me. I know I can be a pain.

The only thing of true significance concerning this rather dreary Monday is the fact that I’m going to be increasing my daily word goal in the Project to 1250. If I can get at least that many in per day, with that amount being 1% of my total projected word count, I can reasonably predict when I might finish, set a deadline and adjust my pace accordingly. Thankfully, I don’t think this general miasma under which I’m operating today will extend to how things will be this evening. I’ll change into comfortable clothes, pour myself a drink and try to get a bit further in the current scene. I want to make sure things gel properly.

Open forum time, folks. Those of you who are bloggers – what do you do when you feel you’ve nothing to blog about? Do you mine your site stats for search terms? Do you put down a stream of consciousness exercise? Do you just not bother?

Your thoughts, give them to me.

Creating Atmosphere

Centralia, PA

There is no drama without tension, so the saying goes. And there are very few things that build tension than a well-crafted atmosphere.

Considering how hectic my day’s been, I could just end the post there and be on my merry way, but I feel it’s necessary to elaborate for a variety of reasons. So, here goes.

There’s a part in the early stages of Vampire The Masquerade: Bloodlines where you must enter a supposedly haunted hotel and retrieve an item of importance to both the local baron and to the spectre inhabiting the building. The sequence of events that take place in that hotel can only be described as “harrowing.” Between the music, sound design, lighting and use of the game engine, an atmosphere of sheer terror is built, infusing the scene with tension without a single shot needing to be fired and no dialog spoken above a whisper. To this day, the thought of going into that digital hotel gives me pause.

The bit I played through last night in Half-Life 2 Episode 2 applies. The antlion hive is just downright creepy. Eternal Darkness is another good example of a game building atmosphere, as is Silent Hill 2, part of a series of games based on the real-life town of Centralia right here in Pennsylvania. I’ve driven through that town on more than one occasion, folks, and let me tell you the most sensible thing to do is just keep on driving. This sort of setting is also the inspiration for many of the works in the World of Darkness, and Storytellers would be well-advised to rely upon such sources.

Conveying atmosphere in writing alone can be difficult. You have no way of relating the sight, sound or smell of something outside of words. And yet there are those who have proven themselves masters of printed palpable dread. Lovecraft, for example, and Stephen King to a lesser extent. Tolkien’s descriptions of the balrog and Shelob can be chilling, to say nothing of the reaction of millions of fans at the appearance of Voldemort in the books of Harry Potter.

Let’s have a few more examples. Who scares you, as a writer? What do you think about when you want to convey a certain atmosphere? How do you channel dread, or fear, or despair into a written work?

Go ahead and give me your thoughts. I’ll be waiting. Watching.

What’s In A Gun’s Name?

Courtesy Terribleminds

So {insert title here}, Book 1 of the Acradea Cycle, is proceeding. It’s in fits and starts a bit, but a little kick in the pants from Ye Olde Magickal Speaking Beardface should keep things chugging along. At least a thousand words a day is a decent goal. As my northern better half points out, I do that in my blog every day without breaking a sweat. But I’m coming to a point in the novel where I need to name something of relatively large importance.

When I last discussed The Project at length, I mentioned “magical mass acceleration rifles.” They’re a weapon being developed by the magocracy in the Cities of Light for a few reasons that will come to light over the course of the story. But the new-fangled dealers of death need a shorthand name. Mass acceleration isn’t a scientific theory as such in Acradea, and calling them “metal tubes with wooden stocks etched with runes and Wards to conjure the ammunition and move it down the barrel at lethal velocity” neither rolls off of the tongue nor abbreviates well.

Considering these are the first “firearms” of this world, I’m inspired to look towards our own history of boomsticks. The weapons in Acradea do have a method of arming similar to those used back when matches or flint were used to strike the gunpowder. By pulling back on the hammer of one of these new-fangled weapons, the shot is conjured into the breach and arcane energy is passed from the storage runes to the hammer, acting as the weapon’s primer. Then, pulling the trigger closes the circuit between the hammer and the Wards on the barrel, starting a very rapid sequence of off/on toggles on those Wards which accelerates the shot. While not magical in and of themselves, shots from these weapons are accelerated by magic to speeds exceeding that of sound, and are likely to have decent range and accuracy if used properly.

When firearms began evolving as small arms, they were known by their firing mechanisms – matchlocks, wheellocks, flintlocks, etc. “Magelock” is an interesting choice but Privateer Press called dibs on that one. “Arcanelock” or “arcanolock” might work, or perhaps “wardlock.” I’d like to try and settle on a name for them before I proceed with the current scene, as it’s about to become very important to the plot.

So, if you’ve any ideas or just want to kibitz about what I’ve mentioned, leave me a comment, won’t you?

As an aside, if you’re hungry for inspiration, take a look at Chuck’s photostream sometime. The man has got a great eye.

Courtesy Terribleminds

Seriously. That’s what I’m talking about.

EDIT: Some GREAT suggestions and background info in the comments. Thanks, everyone.

Considering these weapons were originally designed to provide long-range protection to Guardians, who don’t have many options in terms of doing damage at long distance compared to evokers who can shoot lightning and alchemists who can transmute air to fire, I’m thinking… “longpro” or some other portmanteau of those terms. Thoughts?

EDIT 2: My Canadian better half said something surprisingly smart, to the effect that I’m over-complicating matters. The term ‘firearm’ might still work, especially if the look of the weapon when being shot has a resemblance to fire and it acts as an extension of the shooter’s arm. I just want to avoid pissing of intelligent people who make arguments like the following:

Prior to the age of gunpowder, there’s no such thing as “firing” a weapon, but there are all sorts of “historical” books and films that will have commanders instructing crossbowmen or longbowmen to “fire” at a target. It’s a habit that’s hard to avoid, but it always sets off a “this-guy-didn’t-do-the-research” neuron in my brain.

EDIT 3: “Executor.” It carries out the protection, or judgement, or execution of the mage holding it.

And since it’ll play a pivotal role in how the story unfolds, and the major complication that sets off the main story, perhaps I’ve finally come to my title – “Executor’s Wound”…

Diving Right In

Jumping Ship, or Diving In

I’d really like to say, “This is a subject that requires no introduction.” It’d be a funny way to open up the subject of exposition, since a lot of stories start out with something expository. Especially in genre fiction, more often than not, the world or worlds in which the tale is set will be completely alien to the audience. While this isn’t always the case, it happens often enough that the ins and outs of good exposition are worth talking about.

There’s a method of storytelling out there called in medias res. It’s fancy Latin jargon for “diving right into the good stuff in the story.” Stories that begin this way spend little to no time on exposition. Sometimes this can be pulled off even in genre fiction. Take a look at the opening of the original Star Wars. We get a little text crawl that sets the scene a bit, telling us who the Empire & Rebellion are but not a great deal else, and then WHAMMO. The space equivelant of a beat-up cargo van is getting chased by the mighty, imposing, ball-shrinkingly intimidating hugeness of an Imperial Star Destroyer. The shot and scene are composed in such a way that, without saying another word beyond that opening text, we know just about everything we need to know about who these folks are and what they’re about.

This is an example of good exposition. As Chuck said over on Terribleminds, “[E]xposition is sometimes necessary, but it should never be a boat anchor.” Going on expository tangents is a surefire way to have people losing interest in your story. If you’re lucky, they’ll turn a few pages ahead to look for something exciting to happen, or hit the fast-forward button if it’s in a medium other than print. The classic writers of genre fiction, Tolkein and Lewis for example, could get away with long expository passages because that was the style of the day. However, even as a fan of their work, sometimes I just can’t stand reading another of JRR’s long descriptions of how Tom Bombadil’s hat looks.

Some of the best exposition out there is woven into other things that are going on. Sometimes the best way to do this is to have one character talk to another about something they don’t already know. For example you could have an human explain to an alien some odd human custom that’s become common in whatever year 20XX you’ve set your story. Then, the alien replies that the custom is strange to them because of how things are done on their homeworld. In a few lines of dialog, you’ve not only established a way in which the world has changed, but also how different the aliens are from us.

“Brevity is the soul of wit,” or so we’re told. Or, as Mr. Plinkett puts it, “Don’t waste my time.” If you can find a way to get exposition out there that doesn’t feel like a chore to write, you can tell your audience more about the story without tempting them to reach for their smart phones or what have you. Because if it’s dry and boring to write, you can bet your ass it’ll be dry and boring to read.

Share some thoughts on exposition. What sort of expository passages or scenes stand out in your mind as good or bad examples? How do you get around the difficulty of creating stories in a new world? Help others help you help us all.

Or something like that.

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