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Doing it Right

If it hasn’t been made obvious by now, let me just clarify that I am, in fact, a gamer. A video gamer, to be specific, since people have often misunderstood that statement to mean either gambling or hunting. No, I spend hours in front of my computer, enjoying electronic entertainment in the form of interactive simulations, most commonly in the form of a role-playing game.

The largest of those games would be World of Warcraft (also known as WoW), in which I mainly play a large female minotaur with a bow and wolf companion (also known as a tauren hunter). I have been playing said game for over four years now, and commit quite a bit of time towards improving my performance within the game itself.

See, every character in the game tracks its progress with a system of levels, currently capped at 80. Almost anyone, with enough time, can reach that 80th level on any character. But once you’re there, you move into endgame – the high-end dungeons and boss creatures that require time, effort, and coordination with either 9 or 24 other people. At that point it’s very much a sink or swim situation – you can either sink, deciding that you’ve put enough effort into the game and you don’t need to do anything more; or you can swim, and push harder to accomplish all you can in the game.

WoW, just like almost every other game out there, is controlled by an enormous series of mathematical calculations. How well your character can theoretically perform is directly related to the numbers on the equipment you acquire in the game. As a result, there is an entire subsection of the playerbase that spends inordinate amounts of time and energy on figuring out those numbers to determine exactly what is needed to be the best in the game, and then insists that everyone must reach those numbers if they are to ever really succeed in the game.

Bear with me, I’m going somewhere with this.

I recently started frequenting a forum for writers, more specifically novel-writers. I’m nearing the home stretch on my first round of edits on AtS and am eager to find advice wherever it may lie. I began posting in discussion threads, trying to get to know the other forum-goers while reading through all the active conversations. As with most things, I went in with very high hopes and the best intentions.

What I found was a group of number-crunching aspirants. They wanted to be published writers, but they had done the math and they knew exactly what would make the best novels. They had a formula for what would sell and what would be great, and if your story didn’t have that then you weren’t going to succeed. They research genres, trends and fads and they can tell you if your novel was even worth writing in the first place.

In WoW, I pay attention to what the ‘elitist jerks’ have to say, but only just enough so I understand where they’re coming from. The way I play my character is not ideal, and it’s not perfect. I’ll never be ‘the best’ and they’ll never take me seriously, but that’s alright by me. I’ll play the game the way I want to play it, and as long as I’m having fun then I’m playing it right.

The same, I realized, goes for writing. Maybe my story isn’t the perfect formula, or perhaps it isn’t the smash original fantasy hit that the market so desperately craves. Maybe it won’t sell, or maybe it will but it won’t be a bestseller that I can live off for the rest of my life. But I’ll write the way I want to write, and as long as someone out there enjoys it then I’m writing it right.

And even if my story does become wildly famous and sells like chocolate chip hotcakes, I’ll still play my tauren hunter and always remember that no matter what, I’m doing it right.

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What Form Rejection (No Longer) Means to Me

I had two things written up for the Rejectionist’s uncontest. The subject is ‘What Form Rejection Means to Me’ and I’d thought about it for a few days before actually sitting down to write what was on my mind.

The first attempt was a long, emo diatribe about how insecure I am and how rejection is likely to throw me into a fit of depression.

The second attempt was a first-person future narrative about receiving said form rejection. On the upside, it was much shorter and a lot less dismal.

Then I went to lunch and edited for a full hour.

I won’t be posting either of the things I wrote. Don’t get me wrong, they’re both true and incredibly accurate, but I just now realized they’re not what I need to focus on.

As of now I’ve written more than one hundred and two THOUSAND words of a novel that tells a story that’s been begging to be written for over ten years. I’ve edited 225 pages and have at least another hundred more to go, and I know I’m going to see this project through to the end. I know that people are going to read this, even if it’s just my closest friends, and that this won’t have been for nothing.

For the love of reading, people, I wrote a novel. Reject me all you want, agents. You can’t take that away from me.

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Edited to Add

Yesterday I realized that I had finally passed the halfway point in editing AtS. One would think it’d be pretty obvious – after all, half the page count would be rather simple – but then again, I didn’t edit quite the way I’d read about.

Ever since I started writing AtS, I also began reading several agent blogs. Those blogs led to other blogs which led to author blogs and they all said the same thing: when it comes time to edit, you’re going to lose page count. You’re going to chop things out that don’t need to be there and you’re going to have to get over it. So when I sat down to edit, I expected to be slicing words left and right and tried to steel myself for that.

When I began editing, the page count was at a surprisingly even 300. At the ‘official’ halfway mark, it’s at 321. I can’t help but think I must be doing this wrong, since instead of chopping away I’ve gone ahead and added a full twenty-one pages.

But I can’t help it. I read through a scene and think, Wait, she’s scared because of something else, I should mention that, or on ocassion, oh crap, I knew I forgot to put something in, or a myriad of other slightly self-deprecating realizations that I humbly fix by adding a paragraph or two. It becomes just too blatantly obvious to me that I hadn’t written enough the first time through, and it definitely needs changed.

I did do quite a bit of cutting in the first few chapters, though, as it turns out my prose was a bit purple in those formative sections and certainly needed pruning. But later on I ended up adding as much as I cut and more, just to further expand on the setting and help readers understand exactly what sort of world poor Charley got sucked into. Also on my plate for editing is adding a few hints here and there to people and places that won’t be touched on until the sequel that I won’t let myself think too much about until this first book is finished. Seriously, my attention span is bad enough as is, I don’t need to be hung up on what comes next when I’m still working on what comes now!

Nonetheless, there is still progress, which is a relief. Every day I get a little bit more done, a few pages closer to the next wave of beta reads, a few words closer to 100,000 (which I’ll probably hit this week or the next), and then I go home and play video games.

Like I said, attention span. ^.^;

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Lost

On Thursday, June 3rd, I popped my flash drive (nicknamed Chell) from my work computer to take home. I didn’t usually plug it in to my work computer, but since it served as my backup of AtS – as well as several other projects and ideas-in-progress – sometimes I needed to pop it in real quick to grab something or another during the work day.

That is the last time I can remember seeing the flash drive.

At first I thought I must have lost it at home somewhere. I looked everywhere I could think it could have gotten to, but still it remained missing. Then I realized that I couldn’t remember bringing it home, so I put out an office email asking people to keep an eye out for it. Then, two weeks ago, I blitzed our apartment and cleaned everywhere it could possibly be.

Now it’s been nearly four weeks and Chell is still nowhere to be found. I have to come to terms with the fact that she is likely gone for good.

And honestly? I’m scared, to a point. If it were just another thing – pen, book, shirt, whatever – then it would be no big deal. But Chell has two full drafts of AtS on it, as well as the first seventy pages or so of the first revision. It’s got everything I’ve writen for Alabaster Locket, and Demon Story, as well as ideas for a handful of other stories.

Best case scenario? Someone in my office found Chell, wiped it, and is using it for their own means. They saw the email and ashamedly sent it to the trash bin, figuring it was too late to make reparations.

Worst case scenario? Someone – anyone – found Chell, realized that there was a more-or-less complete novel on it, and starts shopping the manuscript around to try and sell it.

It’s not that I’m afraid that someone else will take credit for my writing (okay, yes I am, but there’s a bigger point here), because the first draft is unpolished and the revisions I’m making are pretty awesome (as far as I can tell, at least). But there’s a gnawing fear in my stomach that the manuscript will make the rounds to agents or publishers, who’ll turn it down because it sucks and then somehow remember it when my final version goes out. The story’s reputation ruined before I even had a chance to try.

Waugh.

Yes, I know how unlikely that is. But I’m a paranoid person, and the possibility is haunting me nonetheless. Still, all I can do is keep revising (I’ve added 18 pages so far, and I’m not even half done) and pray that everything goes as well as possible.

In the meantime I’ll tell my twisting stomach that Chell is rusting over in a sewer somewhere. Hopefully that will help it rest a little easier at night.

Posted in Musings.


Summarization: An Exercise

I dove into revising AtS today on my lunch break. I’d tried to hold out for feedback, but my fingers were itching to type and I couldn’t keep myself away. The past several weeks have been discouraging in that I haven’t been able to focus on a single project for even one full lunch hour. As I started highlighting and rephrasing the prologue today, it was like everything snapped into place and I realized this is what I needed to work on.

It’s actually rather comforting.

I returned from lunch and saw that Nathan Bransford had gone and written about summarizing one’s work. AtS has been this odd roadblock for me when it comes to describing the story – there is a full company of eight characters at one point, and each of them have their own personal story to tell. How do I boil that down to just a few sentences? Is it even possible?

Who are my main characters? There are three that are the most prominent, and I know who I’d like the main character to be, but the story doesn’t start or end with him. In that weird stumbling of storytelling, which my dear friend and beta reader subtly pointed at, I neglect the person who very well may be the real main character. With that in mind, I go into this first revision, hoping to bring some clarity to the jumble.

Mr. Bransford says, rather succinctly, that there are three types of pitches: One Sentence, One Paragraph, and Two Paragraphs. All three need to convey your story well enough to get the reader wanting more, without them being disappointed when they actually read what you’ve got. For what it’s worth? I’m really, really bad at this part.

Nonetheless, it’s not an exercise unless I try it, so here I go!

One Sentence
Sent to a fantasy world against her will, a retail employee joins forces with a journeying farmer and a prophesied princess in order to find the wizard who can save their country…and hopefully send her back home.

One Paragraph
Charley Kuten is on her way home from work when she’s unexpectedly teleported to the strange land of Kellynnia. She winds up in a group led by Rian Wilhem, a farmer out searching for his missing wizard father. Accompanied by the stubborn Princess Tiremenya, the group ventures out to find Rian’s father in the distant hostile land of Lokhaven, a hostile country still harboring a grudge from a failed war twenty years before. It’s on their way there that they discover that another war is brewing, and they may be the only ones able to stop it.

Two Paragraphs
Charley Kuten is used to working long days in retail and spending long nights by herself at home. But when the nice old man down the street teleports her to the strange fantasy land of Kellynnia, she finds herself sucked into an unbelievable whirlwind of missing family members, old grudges and a prophesied princess.

There she meets Rian Wilhem, a young farmer whose absent father is the only wizard able to magic her back home; and the annoyingly stubborn Princess Tiremenya, who bears the future of Kellynnia on her shoulders. Together, the three wandering youths find friends and enemies as they make their way towards Lokhaven, the country that holds Rian’s father prisoner. But things are rarely exactly as they seem, and sometimes even prophesies can be wrong…

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