A multiverse... a writer... the possibilities are endless.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

The Black Hole of Gaping Plot-Lack -- i.e., Writer's Block

FFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCKKK.

With that out of my system, I can actually get started on the point of this post -- which is, to those of you capable of reading titles, writer's block. That horror, that menace, that evil being that lurks over every writer's day like a hammer over an anvil. And considerably less productive -- at least a hammer and anvil accomplish something when the day's done.

Not that, of course, that changes anything in the long run; I can place as many ominous similes as I want in its immediate vicinity, but it will still haunt me.

In fact, it will continue to haunt me until I get past the chapters in Spoink! I'm stuck on. For those of you unaware of my massive graphic novel project, Spoink! (which, yes, is also the name of a Pokemon) is a fourth-wall-breaker that is a parody of most manga clichés, while managing to tell an actual story. It's currently in script form (by far the most irritating part of graphic-novelising, behind the thumb-printing), and I'm caught on one of the key chapters because -- let's face it, Victory, it's boring.

Boring?! Oh, Goddess, I can see it now -- the entire novel failing because the stupid exposition chapters ruined it for everyone!

Hence the extended fuck at the beginning of this post.

So, here are Victory's key ways to get the hell out of writer's block. Maybe by writing them down I'll help myself.

1. Skip ahead to the next part. If you know where you're going, just not the finer details of how you get there, just start writing the part you know. Then go back when you have a flash of inspiration (or just really need to get it done.)

2. Go for a walk. Make a soufflé. I don't care how you get the hell away from your project, just get the hell away from the bloody thing before you collapse into a state of quivering inspiration-less jello. And then you'll never finish; how's that for incentive?

3. Start writing. No, I don't mean start writing what you're working on; just a stream of consciousness. No backspace button; take it off the damn keyboard if you have to. The delete key, too, if that helps. Just write exactly what's in your brain until you're either relaxed enough to go back to writing (which may take a while) or you've hit inspiration (which may take longer).

4. WRITE SOMETHING ELSE. A poem, maybe, or a short story, or another novel(la) idea that's been buzzing around your brain. Just don't forget your original goal -- come back to the first piece after twenty minutes or so (unless you're really on a roll).

Ah... I feel much better, now. Maybe I'll go start thumb-printing chapter three again.

Or not. As I said, thumb-printing sucks worse than scripting. -shudders-

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Relating Real-World Disasters to Writing: On Disaster-Fic

Ah... A good rant. Sometimes you just need those.

I'm sure everyone has heard of the Japanese earthquake recently; 8.8 on the Richter scale, etc. And now, unfortunately, I am seeing the consequences.

No, I have not grown a third arm from radiation exposure (though, to be frank, if it was a working arm I might welcome such a change) nor have I felt any rumbling and shaking (Vermont is relatively safe, though certainly not fault-free), but as an online editor for fellow internet-posting writers, I too have felt the strain.

Why? People feel compelled now, of all times, to write disaster-fic.

Disaster-fic? You ask, blinking in a surprised manner. Surely not, Victory -- disaster-fic is much too soon. Of course, your assumed statements take into account that you know what disaster-fic is, so if you don't, let it be clear that I assume you possess the intelligence to figure it out. Assume makes an ass out of you and me, but humour me.

But, yes, it is true -- within a week of that tragic disaster, I have received at least two projects that deal with that same earthquake. To be honest, I felt a mixture of depression, annoyance, and respect -- one of the pieces was at least eight thousand words, which, while not a staggering sum, is certainly impressive given the time frame.

Be that as it may, am I the only one who cries, 'Too soon!'? With bodies washing up on the shores and nuclear plants on the brink of meltdown (hm, perhaps that is an exaggeration), I cannot but feel as if the tragedy of Japan is being treated too lightly.

So, in respect to that, Victory's first law of disaster-fic:
Wait at least a month! If nothing else, wait out of respect to the people who have lived through the disaster you are writing about.

Victory's second law:
Research is key! In this example, don't set your story in Izumo City if you want your characters to be in thick of it. Know your locale, know your facts, and know your psyche. If their lives are in danger, put them in survival mode.

Victory's third law:
Tastefulness is a must. Don't overdo it if it doesn't need over-doing. Don't drape a son in his mother's dead body unless that is a plot point. Honestly, disaster-fic can be gruesome and horrifying, but it doesn't need to be theatrical.

And, finally, Victory's fourth law:
Be precise. Don't say that the beaches are covered in debris or dead bodies unless they would be.

Disaster-fic is difficult to write, simply because fiction is contending with the real thing -- the survivors. And, above all else, don't be condescending if someone tells you that's not how it happened. For Goddess' sake,I should think a survivor would know better than a girl safely ensconced in Wisconsin.

Rant over, for the moment.

Emphasis on 'for the moment'.