An Augenblick Ago
Wednesday, December 16. 2009
I finished reading The Void Captain's Tale by Norman Spinrad last evening. It's one of those books that somewhat intimidates me as an aspiring author, because it's so far removed from what I myself am capable of writing. Not necessarily better, mind you, just...different. But amazing.
If you haven't read the novel, and you're a fan at all of speculative fiction (and you don't mind words like "yoni" and "tantric"), you really should check it out. Yes, the story is heavy on exposition and soul-searching inner dialogue. Sure, it's really a short story expanded to short novel length by glacially slow pacing through much of the plot. And of course, there are some glaring holes in the logic of the world Spinrad created. But the prose, for me, is spectacular.
Spinrad's writing is so densely packed that it takes an investment of time to get through it, and, more importantly, to understand it. In places, the prose borders on poetry—but it's a sort of Einsteinian poetry that held me riveted. Nothing but five-dollar words here, glued together with bits and pieces of German and Spanish (comprehensible even if you don't speak either language), coating ideas which can be quite perspective-enhancing. There's no way I could write like this.
Of course, were I to write like this, there's no way I could sell it, either.
Now, this was not Spinrad's first novel. Still, I think he might be hard-pressed to sell it today (and it was a Nebula Award nominee). I've wrung my hands before about how my major writing influences might not be as publishable today as they were when I first read them twenty or thirty years ago—Asimov, Zelazny, Adams, und so weiter. In such a short time (in literary sprach), the expectations of the general readership have changed. The challenge for me is to include the best of what made them great in my writing, while making my writing my own—and making it relevant for my [imagined, potential] readers.
No, there's no way I could write a book like Spinrad's. But I trust my prose will prove unique in its own way, and I write on...
I finished reading The Void Captain's Tale by Norman Spinrad last evening. It's one of those books that somewhat intimidates me as an aspiring author, because it's so far removed from what I myself am capable of writing. Not necessarily better, mind you, just...different. But amazing.
If you haven't read the novel, and you're a fan at all of speculative fiction (and you don't mind words like "yoni" and "tantric"), you really should check it out. Yes, the story is heavy on exposition and soul-searching inner dialogue. Sure, it's really a short story expanded to short novel length by glacially slow pacing through much of the plot. And of course, there are some glaring holes in the logic of the world Spinrad created. But the prose, for me, is spectacular.
Spinrad's writing is so densely packed that it takes an investment of time to get through it, and, more importantly, to understand it. In places, the prose borders on poetry—but it's a sort of Einsteinian poetry that held me riveted. Nothing but five-dollar words here, glued together with bits and pieces of German and Spanish (comprehensible even if you don't speak either language), coating ideas which can be quite perspective-enhancing. There's no way I could write like this.
Of course, were I to write like this, there's no way I could sell it, either.
Now, this was not Spinrad's first novel. Still, I think he might be hard-pressed to sell it today (and it was a Nebula Award nominee). I've wrung my hands before about how my major writing influences might not be as publishable today as they were when I first read them twenty or thirty years ago—Asimov, Zelazny, Adams, und so weiter. In such a short time (in literary sprach), the expectations of the general readership have changed. The challenge for me is to include the best of what made them great in my writing, while making my writing my own—and making it relevant for my [imagined, potential] readers.
No, there's no way I could write a book like Spinrad's. But I trust my prose will prove unique in its own way, and I write on...
If you haven't read the novel, and you're a fan at all of speculative fiction (and you don't mind words like "yoni" and "tantric"), you really should check it out. Yes, the story is heavy on exposition and soul-searching inner dialogue. Sure, it's really a short story expanded to short novel length by glacially slow pacing through much of the plot. And of course, there are some glaring holes in the logic of the world Spinrad created. But the prose, for me, is spectacular.
Spinrad's writing is so densely packed that it takes an investment of time to get through it, and, more importantly, to understand it. In places, the prose borders on poetry—but it's a sort of Einsteinian poetry that held me riveted. Nothing but five-dollar words here, glued together with bits and pieces of German and Spanish (comprehensible even if you don't speak either language), coating ideas which can be quite perspective-enhancing. There's no way I could write like this.
Of course, were I to write like this, there's no way I could sell it, either.
Now, this was not Spinrad's first novel. Still, I think he might be hard-pressed to sell it today (and it was a Nebula Award nominee). I've wrung my hands before about how my major writing influences might not be as publishable today as they were when I first read them twenty or thirty years ago—Asimov, Zelazny, Adams, und so weiter. In such a short time (in literary sprach), the expectations of the general readership have changed. The challenge for me is to include the best of what made them great in my writing, while making my writing my own—and making it relevant for my [imagined, potential] readers.
No, there's no way I could write a book like Spinrad's. But I trust my prose will prove unique in its own way, and I write on...
Another November Come and Gone
Tuesday, December 1. 2009
...but I'm closer to finishing a novel!
This November, I chose not to engage in the traditional 50,000 word spew, but instead to work on getting last year's spew closer to a shoppable state. I set a goal of spending 50 hours specifically on the novel this month, and I did (barely) make that goal, hitting the 50-hour mark at 10 pm last night.
Fifty hours doesn't sound like a lot, but dedicating that much time to the novel was more difficult than I'd expected! The novel's now at about 54,000 words, which means I added little in the way of new scenes to it this month. Instead, I trimmed a lot of fat, rewrote much of what was there, and, most importantly, spent a great deal of time staring off into space and ordering this novel's universe and its inhabitants in my mind. This time was invaluable. Now, in place of the "frozen puke fountain" I generated during NaNoWriMo 2008, I have much of a real novel, and copious notes to inform my way as I write it to its conclusion.
I should have done this a long time ago. Real life keeps getting in the way. But this year, rather than taking a break at the end of the writing flurry that is November, I'm pressing on.
In December, I plan to spend sixty hours on writing. The only difference is that I'll allow myself now to spend some time on short stories and Critters, both areas which suffered last month from my novel-centricity. Still, the majority of that time will have to be allocated to Bring Me to Life...if I want to finish it by my next birthday.
Yes, that's the new long-term goal: turn the 54,000-word WIP into an 80,000-word final manuscript by 19 April. I can do it, if I keep at it.
And I'm starting—no, continuing—the process today.
...but I'm closer to finishing a novel!
This November, I chose not to engage in the traditional 50,000 word spew, but instead to work on getting last year's spew closer to a shoppable state. I set a goal of spending 50 hours specifically on the novel this month, and I did (barely) make that goal, hitting the 50-hour mark at 10 pm last night.
Fifty hours doesn't sound like a lot, but dedicating that much time to the novel was more difficult than I'd expected! The novel's now at about 54,000 words, which means I added little in the way of new scenes to it this month. Instead, I trimmed a lot of fat, rewrote much of what was there, and, most importantly, spent a great deal of time staring off into space and ordering this novel's universe and its inhabitants in my mind. This time was invaluable. Now, in place of the "frozen puke fountain" I generated during NaNoWriMo 2008, I have much of a real novel, and copious notes to inform my way as I write it to its conclusion.
I should have done this a long time ago. Real life keeps getting in the way. But this year, rather than taking a break at the end of the writing flurry that is November, I'm pressing on.
In December, I plan to spend sixty hours on writing. The only difference is that I'll allow myself now to spend some time on short stories and Critters, both areas which suffered last month from my novel-centricity. Still, the majority of that time will have to be allocated to Bring Me to Life...if I want to finish it by my next birthday.
Yes, that's the new long-term goal: turn the 54,000-word WIP into an 80,000-word final manuscript by 19 April. I can do it, if I keep at it.
And I'm starting—no, continuing—the process today.
This November, I chose not to engage in the traditional 50,000 word spew, but instead to work on getting last year's spew closer to a shoppable state. I set a goal of spending 50 hours specifically on the novel this month, and I did (barely) make that goal, hitting the 50-hour mark at 10 pm last night.
Fifty hours doesn't sound like a lot, but dedicating that much time to the novel was more difficult than I'd expected! The novel's now at about 54,000 words, which means I added little in the way of new scenes to it this month. Instead, I trimmed a lot of fat, rewrote much of what was there, and, most importantly, spent a great deal of time staring off into space and ordering this novel's universe and its inhabitants in my mind. This time was invaluable. Now, in place of the "frozen puke fountain" I generated during NaNoWriMo 2008, I have much of a real novel, and copious notes to inform my way as I write it to its conclusion.
I should have done this a long time ago. Real life keeps getting in the way. But this year, rather than taking a break at the end of the writing flurry that is November, I'm pressing on.
In December, I plan to spend sixty hours on writing. The only difference is that I'll allow myself now to spend some time on short stories and Critters, both areas which suffered last month from my novel-centricity. Still, the majority of that time will have to be allocated to Bring Me to Life...if I want to finish it by my next birthday.
Yes, that's the new long-term goal: turn the 54,000-word WIP into an 80,000-word final manuscript by 19 April. I can do it, if I keep at it.
And I'm starting—no, continuing—the process today.
(Page 1 of 1, totaling 2 entries)