David R Slayton

Feb252010

The Need to Believe in Yourself: in Defense of the Writer’s Ego

I’ve encountered the arrogant writer a few times. A few times, it’s been me who was arrogant. Many of us can be obnoxious about our work and our belief in it, which often blinds us to its faults and gaps in quality. What’s going on with that?

Simply put, I think it’s the fact that making it as a writer is no easy feat, and it’s often a great defense mechanism from the rejection we feel. But like all defense mechanisms, it has to come down sometime, particularly when its usefulness has passed. We like to shield ourselves from uncomfortable truths. In my case, a good one is that I really need to cut back on the world-building exposition. I find myself slipping into Professor Slayton mode, where I start lecturing the reader about a neat little bit of history or mythology I’ve worked into the world. I love this mode, because I love showing off and hearing the sound of my own voice (like many English majors), and I truly want to share my knowledge with the reader (like many History majors).

Keeping your ego at the fore of your work is problematic because it blinds you to feedback. When criticism comes, and criticism is a necessary part of the process, you need to be open to it. I often find the most scarring criticism is the kind that is spot on: someone points out something I already knew deep down, but did not want to accept. In this position you have two options. You can either choose to ignore the criticism and hold up your ego like a shield, demonstrating a variation on the “I’m an artist and you just don’t understand me” slash “I’m just too smart for you to understand my work” defense; or you can accept the uncomfortable truth that yes, maybe that character in chapter three is a little too Yoda-like to pass muster, doesn’t serve a point, and should probably go.

When we write we put forth our inner selves. We’re out to entertain sure, but we’re also trying to tell a story that means something to us. You have to believe in your work to finish a novel. You have to really believe in it when you query it to agents. But you can’t skip the middle part, which means getting feedback, getting it critiqued, and improving the quality of the work. Your ego is a valuable tool in this process. It’s a partner in getting you back to the keyboard every day; but don’t let it be bruised too easily by critique, and don’t let it blind you to things you don’t want to accept about your work. Your ego is a part of you, but keep it in its place.

Jan102010

David’s Review of Three Junes by Julia Glass

Three Junes is one of those books that should be a lot longer: three narratives, three points of views, with decades passing in the lives of the characters. Yet Glass takes the family saga and boils it down to three snapshots, three important periods, and uses the time constraint of three months to keep the book brief. It was recommended to me by my friend Jo Dunn for this reason: that I could see how Glass keeps things short while still juggling a lot of time and spatial difference. She employs a great economy of word: not drawing things out, but still managing to handle the same depth of larger family sagas such as House of Spirits or One Hundred Years of Solitude. Glass’s method for brevity is partly achieved in that the three sections are wholly distinct. Point of view doesn’t alternate between or within chapters so in each section, we get one strong voice.

These clear delineations do not affect its power. Three Junes keeps a resonance, with mysteries and bubbling secrets threading throughout. I feel like the book lost a lot of steam in the denouement, that the final section lacked the power of the first two, but that things still tied up neatly.

When I tried to describe the book to someone yesterday, I found myself unable to sum it up in a way that gave it justice. The book’s plot is so simple, that trying to describe it in those terms sells it short. Much like Margaret Atwood’s Cat’s Eye, that’s a sign to me that Glass has created something very internal and powerful. Thank you Jo for recommending it.

Oct22009

George R.R. Martin has Epic Fantasy Covered: David’s Review of a Game of Thrones

I have to confess, I’ve been backing off of reading epic fantasy for a while now. I’ve started a few series, only to put them aside in favor of something more accessible that isn’t going to lead me to too many sunrises as I obsessively read. And a number of the books I’ve tried in the last few years couldn’t capture my attention. A slow start that doesn’t draw me in by page 50 usually means I’m going to look at the looming volumes as a daunting task and put it aside. Sometimes the sheer size of a paperback means I’ll pass it over when reaching for the next thing to read.

On my flight back from Munich last week I finally cracked open a book I’ve been putting off for about ten years: George R.R. Martin’s Game of Thrones. The news that HBO is making it into a television series bumped it up my list, but I’m certainly glad I brought it along to Europe. There’s nothing quite like the German pageantry of Oktoberfest to set your mind on the Medieval.

Martin reaches the apex of the genre. The multiple points of view interweave beautifully, and the very effective technique of titling chapters with the name of the POV character made it easy to keep things straight. Despite the many characters, Martin keeps their voices distinct, and their thoughts or commentary on one another help keep you siding with various factions. The mystery of the piece, the revealing of state secrets that prompt a war, is nicely spun.

One thing I noticed right away was that Martin keeps a hard emotional distance from his characters. You find yourself cheering for a character who then meets a rather hard end, and Martin executes these fates without a hint of sentimentality. He balances his characters on the edge and shows absolutely no hesitation in pushing them into freefall. In this sense, the book reads a bit like a history. Only the immediacy of the characters’ emotions ties you into the narrative. Martin largely follows the show not tell rule, though I found myself wishing he’d break it a bit more often. As good as the book is, it’s burdened by its sheer length of 800 pages. A few characters could have been eliminated without detracting from the themes or narrative. This might have helped bring the book into a more manageable size, though I suspect that with the scope of the series, he’ll make use of these players later. As the genre goes, Martin definitely starts with action, draws you in with relatable characters, and neatly breaks the book into clear cut scenes. He’s created a fantasy world with the usual western European flavor, and he does it with style. Magical swords, beasts, jousts, battle, and intrigue all fill the pages. The story is compelling, and I’ll certainly be picking up the other volumes, saving them for snowy weekends or another transcontinental flight.

Sep242009

Back to Basics: The Zen Circle of Writing

One of the things I’ve picked up in Yoga is that even advanced practioners need to get back to the basics sometimes. As I work on my next project, while still querying on Eastlight, I’m looking at writing as a craft in a whole new light.

The new project (working title Ghost Town), is in the early stages and this gives me the chance to be better organized from the start. I’m back at the start of the development cycle, and I’m fortunate that I’m bringing more experience to my game.

What does that mean exactly? I’m breaking my work into tighter scenes. I’m rambling less when I write. I’m writing stronger sentences out the gate and hopefully with more clarity. I’ve also learned (and this is a big one for me) that not every idea which springs to mind needs to go into every chapter or book. Sometimes, my first idea for a scene isn’t the best, so I take the time to refocus setting before writing.

I’m at the start of the project, but I’m looking at my writing with a lot more confidence and a lot more skill than what I brought to Eastlight and Neophyte. I’m hoping the eventual payoff will be the need for less rewrite this time. I know rewrites are a natural part of the project lifecycle, but I’d like to shorten the number to get projects out to market faster.

Aug302009

Queries and Confidence: Rules for the Query Process

You may have sensed a little radio silence on the blog lately, and I’ll admit I’ve been busy. My next two projects are coming together, and I’ll soon have to choose which one to devote myself to for the rest of the year. I’ve also taken the time to join the Rocky Mountain Writers Association to expand my contacts and critique circle.

Publishing continues to be a scary game right now, as Jenny Rappaport relays, and more than a few agents are closed to queries, particularly from debut authors. It’s not a good time for trying to break in. The query process can be intimidating, and it requires just the right grip on your work: you have to believe in your book, but also you have to know when editing is required.

Despite all the doom and gloom, I’m optimistic about my writing. I’m hopeful about Eastlight’s chances, and weirdly enough, I get excited when I’m researching my queries.

Rejection is a powerful motivator, if you take it right. You can choose to go hide from the process (and I’ll confess that starting my day by reading up on the state of Publishing is a powerful motivator to fire up the Playstation and avoid reality), or you can rally and use the frustration as fuel to get more queries out there.

All this engagement with the query process has led me to some personal rules:

1. It only takes one yes: don’t give up and query widely.
2. Rejections are normal and the nature of the game.
3. The sooner you query, the sooner you sign (don’t let the process get you down).

The one caveat as always, is the balance: your work has to be ready. You have to have it in the most polished, professional state you can. With few exceptions, regardless of genre, you can only query an agent once for a book.

Aug182009

Masks: a Review of Elizabeth Bear’s Carnival

Writing political fiction is difficult. It’s easy to reduce debate to liberal and conservative, large or small government, progress or status quo. It’s also tempting to beat the reader over the head with your own views and use the bully pulpit of the story to attack the opposition. Humanizing two factions and giving the reader sympathy for both perspectives takes a deft hand. Elizabeth Bear manages this quite well in Carnival, a sci-fi trip to a future when humanity is greatly changed, and spread out over the stars, but where too many of our sad divisions remain. Even in futurist, fictional societies, it’s easy for an author to take sides and Bear wisely creates characters at conflict with their respective societies, making it hard to know whose side they, and she, are on. Every one in this novel is wearing at least one mask. It’s high intrigue with astronomical and very personal stakes for the point of view characters.

Carnival’s plot builds slowly, and I didn’t mind the simmer as Bear’s conflict came to a boil on the jungle world of New Amazonia. Two diplomats from the Old Earth Coalition find themselves on a world where women have inverted the power structure. Women rule and men are a lesser caste. Sinead O’Connor once said that the “opposite of patriarchy is not matriarchy, but fraternity,” and Bear reinforces this idea by clearly demonstrating that the society of New Amazonia has as many flaws as the patriarchy the separatist women left behind.

One of the first things I noticed was the complexity of Bear’s universe. It took me a while to sort through the factions, characters, and loyalties. The technological vocabulary of the Coalition diplomats slowed me down. This was part of the fun, being a tourist in an alien society, but it made Carnival a book you can’t just casually read. This one takes some focus, but it is well worth the time. The book is thoughtful, and it turned my mind towards a number of topics I don’t regularly consider. Bear invests the conflict with a good amount of gender study, and I was impressed by the time she took to work out how a matriarchal warrior society would handle issues of reproduction, the rights of males, and status. I had questions as I read, and her characters addressed most of them over the course of the novel.

Once the plot heats up, the philosophical consideration gets pushed aside and things move very quickly. In this sense, it was like reading two books, one with a more considered tempo and a second with a strong action beat. I personally preferred the first part, though I can’t deny that the latter section was more of a page turner. The only real difficulty in reading was the exposure to two cultures, not simply one. The reader is transported with the diplomats into the world of New Amazonia, but it took the course of the novel for me to understand where the diplomats were coming from and for the opposing viewpoints to become clear.

Bear’s use of technology, both Amazon and Coalition, was well-conceived. These are interesting and more colorful than the average space opera. The relationship of the technology to the character fit their background and loyalty. She imbues her characters with appropriate prejudices, based upon their side in the conflict, and these come through, enriching the characters and the story world.

In many ways, Carnival isn’t an easy journey. You’re being exposed to a confusing foreign culture, and you don’t speak the language, but if you’re up for a little adventure outside the normal light reading, it’s well worth the trip.

Jul242009

Practice Makes Perfect

If there’s one thing to be said about writing, it’s that you get better with practice. A lot of writers have a number of books under the bed, in the closest, somewhere, which will never see the light of day. I’ve collected one of these skeleton books so far, and I don’t regret writing it. My first book taught me more about writing than anything I’d done before, just as Eastlight taught me even more. I truly believe that Eastlight isn’t due for that pile. Why do I believe in my book so much? I’ve followed all the steps, read all the blogs, paid the dues, and done everything I can to make it the strongest book possible. I’ve gotten critique from honest parties and rewritten it over and over, hammering it into the book it is now. And if I can’t find representation, or it doesn’t sell, then I’ll just finish the next book and keep the process going until one catches an agent’s eye. With practice, I improve, and each book I write teaches me more about my craft.

I’m definitely seeing an upwards progression in quality as I read through the Dresden files series. I enjoyed the first two books, but the third really hooked me, and the fourth, Summer Knight, really seemed to bring all the elements to just the right boil. Characters reach a maturity in the fourth volume, the world gets fleshed out, and Jim Butcher does a superb job of overlaying the supernatural onto the material. He’s got me anxious for the rest of the series, and I’d start the fifth tonight if I had it in hand. There’s not a lot to say here that I didn’t put forward in my review of the first three, but I’ll say that I highly recommend the series, particularly if you’re wanting to see urban fantasy done right. Butcher clips off some of the elements I found a bit silly in the first two volumes, like potions made from mundane items such as coffee, and plunges full hilt into his take on the faerie mythos. The stakes get upped for Harry Dresden and his world. Butcher adds a ticking clock to the mix, nicely increasing the tension and forging a real page turner. Old allies return and Harry solves his mystery with a deft combination of magic and mental gymnastics.

Jul172009

Late to the Party: Some Comments on Trying to Publish and Michael Chabon’s Wonder Boys

You might notice that the list of links on the blog is growing. This will keep happening as I keep finding new sites that help with my understanding of the publishing process and business. If you’re an aspiring writer, I recommend any of them, as they’ll help you get the lay of the land. They most certainly should be read and carefully studied before you start the query process. I especially recommend Kristin Nelson, Nathan Bradsford, and Janet Reid for this.

As a whole, the process of publishing can really get you down. Writing and publishing are two very different things. When I was writing my first book, I heard a lot of comments that made me scratch my head. Most were usually along the lines of: “Won’t that be nice? To write a book and make a ton of money?” I knew these weren’t comments on my talent, but rather a supposition that writing a book leads to fame and fortune. Let’s be clear: I’m getting more savvy about the state of publishing every day, and it’s an uphill battle to make it out of the trenches, publish a book, and see it succeed. Even if you reach this point, continued success is not guaranteed. You have to continually evolve, continually market yourself and your work, and continually improve. Frankly, the whole process of breaking into commercial fiction can get me down. Quitting isn’t an option, but taking a breather isn’t a bad idea either. For me, a breather is a book or movie that reminds me why I love writing, and the English language, so much.

Nearly eleven years ago, my friend Alan gave me a copy of Wonder Boys. It’s even autographed. And for eleven years it sat on my shelf, unread. I wish I’d cracked it open years ago. Wonder Boys is that rare book about books, like A.S. Byatt’s Possession, that brings out my love of the written word. Chabon nails his characters so well, so cleverly, and sums up the crazy things writers do to find material to work with. He also captures a lot of the pretension and manic energy that surround them, and I have to say, I can spot myself or some people from my college program in his pages. Here I am, reading a book that most of you probably discovered a decade ago. But I think we’ve established I tend to move at my own pace when it comes to reading, though I’m quickly trying to better synch myself with the state of the market and adjust my reading list accordingly.

When reading a book as good as Wonder Boys, you have two directions you can take your feelings: jealousy that you may never write anything nearly that good, or you can be inspired to write more, write better, and fall back in love with your craft. I’m sure there are some people out there who would have a third reaction, which would be “I can do better than that,” but I’m not among them. I choose to be inspired, to let books this good drive me to write better and push myself out of my comfort zone. I could give you a solid critique of Wonder Boys, break it down for you, but I wouldn’t want to spoil your fun. It’s worth reading if only for Chabon’s fantastic phrasing, which turns over and over to make me laugh or catch my eye on some delicious detail in his wording. If you trust me on these matters, just read the book.

Jul112009

The Delicate Art of the Serial II: The Dresden Files

The Modern Language Association (MLA) is the style manual I cut my college teeth on. It’s the preferred manual for English papers and so I first learned to underline book titles rather than italicize them. I’ll confess a dirty secret: I started italicizing a while back, unless I was writing a paper, since it just looks cleaner to me, and when dealing with electronic formats, avoids confusing the title with a URL. Here’s another one Daily Writing Tips reports that the MLA has finally caught up and decided that italics with titles are the way to go. This should give a few million English majors an easier time as well as help resolve conflict with the Chicago Manual of Style, which other majors such as my History degree, use. I highly recommend subscribing to Daily Writing Tips. They’re doing a lot of great work and keeping me up to date.

The second book series I’m examining is the Dresden Files by Jim Butcher. I’m going to start with two disclaimers: I completely missed the television series, so I won’t be discussing it to any degree. Second, I read the first book a while ago and the second more recently. I’m revisiting them for critique, but I’m already a fan and likely a bit biased towards them. I know there are several more, and I am behind, but they’re in the stack and I hope to get to them very soon.

In Butcher’s first book, Storm Front, he set up a stand alone adventure with a few threads he could build on for subsequent plots. This looks typical for the business (and is the model I’ve used for Eastlight). You don’t want to torture your readers with unresolved issues if you don’t get a longer publishing deal. Harry Dresden as a character is established and his basic traits are put up there for us to see: technology doesn’t work well around this urban wizard, and money is usually an issue for his business. Butcher will revisit these traits at the start of the next two books as an anchor for us to remember but also maintain conflict. The second book, Fool Moon, immediately reminds us of Dresden’s money problems while the third, Grave Peril, instantly brings up the technology problem in a life and death situation.

As characterization goes, Harry is fairly vague in the first book. We get to know him, but a lot of his history (and the potential conflicts it brings) are left out. As a good serial character, he shouldn’t grow or change too fast, and Butcher keeps to the core of who Harry is. He’s brash, has a strong streak of chivalry that is often a weakness, and his aforementioned liabilities surrounding money and technology are a concrete portion of his character. What does get expanded nicely are Harry’s contacts with the spirit world. As the series progresses, we see more of his allies and enemies past the mundane. We’re introduced to some of his old associations, and Harry’s world widens for us. Handling things this way, Butcher wisely doesn’t throw the whole world at us in the first few books: he lets it widen as he goes. By handling it this way, he avoids the typical fantasy trap of over-describing and laying out all the groundwork in advance of the story. Instead, he lets the world serve the story and grow organically. It also means that the reader doesn’t have to remember a million little details about how Harry’s world works. We can just get on with the story and let the world catch up.

Butcher gave the first two books a fairly strong self-contained nature. Characters from them return, but again, he doesn’t wallow in backstory, so the plot gets moving right away. The third book seems to lay the groundwork for a longer series, setting up some pretty important events (which I won’t spoil). The Dresden Files works effectively as a series for a number of reasons, but I think the strongest are that Butcher doesn’t bog us down with unnecessary detail. He repeats critical information but not too often, and he links the books together with details that while important, aren’t essential so you don’t feel as though you’re missing something if you read say, the second book before the first. One warning though: you may get a little hooked. I finished the third book and immediately cracked open the fourth. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Jul102009

The Delicate Art of the Serial I: Balancing Conflict and Resolution in a Series

Instead of a personal note on mood or what’s on my ipod, from now on I’ll be dropping a note on style or grammar into the blog. As my intended readers for this blog are largely fellow aspiring authors, I want to share my findings as I scour the Internet for tips:

Thanks to Daily Writing Tips, I know that the Chicago Manual of Style (CMS) has finally dissolved my tradition of using two spaces after a period. It has been a factor in writing as we transition from print to electronic media. Since I was trained to type in the business manner, I’ve had a hard time letting go of that second space: but I learned in my History and CIS degrees to treat the CMS as definitive so one space it will be from now on.

I don’t think it will shock you much to learn that I was something of a nerd in high school. A bit anti-social, extremely awkward and shy, I spent a lot of time in the company of paperbacks, many of them in a connecting series. This was a great escape, running off into vast landscapes of books where characters grew in slow arcs, defeated foes who’d come back to haunt them, and eventually marry the man or woman they’d been fighting alongside for hundreds of pages. As I intend Eastlight to be a series, I want to spend some time analyzing successful series and what makes them tick. This will be the first of three blog posts looking at series as I read and analyze them.

In high school, I first read long serials, before moving on to comics. I wish somebody had explained that Dickens wrote in serials and should be read as such. We had to read vast chunks of Great Expectations all in one go, and I utterly hated it. I’ve since learned to appreciate Dickens by reading him the way his original readers did: bit by bit, week by week. In this manner I can sip at his prose, slowly taking it in, without feeling buried by his language. Instead of stressing to complete a big block of reading in time to write a terrible paper about it, I have time to enjoy Dickens and look forward to the next chapter.

Back in my awkward teen years, the series that kept my attention the most were Star Trek novels. They were a great way to spend infinite time with characters I loved. I went on to read a lot of comic books. One author who crosses between the two mediums with deft, prolific, effectiveness is Peter David. I think the man must sleep very little. His X-Factor comics have a consistent high quality in a bloated landscape, and his Star Trek: New Frontier books demonstrate a well plotted, character-focused serial.

I took about a twenty year break from Star Trek novels so I’m still surveying the landscape, but as far as I can tell, David was the first to try something of this type: he took a number of B characters in the Next Generation Universe, stirred up his own funky aliens, and dropped them into a ship in an uncharted region of space. Remember when I said he’s deft? David’s strength in writing characters he didn’t create is that he picks vaguely-defined figures and brings them to vivid life.

The short length of the books means I can breeze through one in an evening, though I quickly find that I need a few on hand as I’ll reach for the next as soon as I put one down. In this manner, he’s constructed his series to work just like episodes of a television show, and it works really well. Part of why the series succeeds is that threads aren’t left to dangle: he tracks unresolved elements over the course of many books and gets the conflict resolved. He’s shown a similar talent with X-Factor, where I’ve been happily surprised to see him pick up threads other writers dropped fifteen years ago and wrap them up. His way of writing comics, in self-contained chapters which culminate and collect well into larger books, serves him well in his novels. He likes to leave you with a cliffhanger or an ominous portent. Both serials benefit from a large cast, which aside from cannon fodder, also provides him with many smaller arcs to stretch the narrative over a larger canvas.

One weakness in the serial is that the suspense can be tiring if threads don’t get wrapped up. You want to see things resolved at some point. If an author stretches things out for too long you get anxious. There’s a delicate balance to this that many authors struggle with. In comics, where short attention span reigns, writers only have so long to wrap it up (or we get those annoying dropped threads when the writer changes guard). In the novel these open ended moments can bring you back for more, but only if the payoff is worth the wait. An easy out for a conflict that has stretched over three books leaves a bitter taste. David doesn’t suffer from this problem.

David’s second strength is that he doesn’t lose track of his characters. He keeps them in mind when he returns for the next episode. We get surprised by new facets of a personality, but he doesn’t radically alter a character’s nature. They grow, and our understanding of them grows too. Using this technique, he lets characters resolve their individual conflicts. In the New Frontier series, he seems to have started things with each individual coming on board with a different secret or desire. Each episode clears up one or two of these, so the reader is satisfied while they wait for some of the larger mysteries to simmer. I think David intimately knows his characters, and while they surprise us, I get the feeling he knows exactly what they’re hiding before he began writing the first episode. I’ve long been a fan, but I’m really beginning to admire Peter David’s craftsmanship as well.

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