Yesterday, whilst revising the end of DIARY OF BEDLAM, I realized I’m not profiscient in writing fight scenes. Actually, it wasn’t the first time I realized it. When Mick read an early draft of the mansuscript one of his first comments was how bad one of my fight scenes was. That one has since been re-written and now it works, but there is still polishing to do on the final scene.
What is it about writing a fight scene that’s difficult? I can’t get the choreography straight in my mind. I’m not able to visualize them the way I visualize other types of scenes. Maria Alexander, my friend and also a writer, advised me A) to learn to fight and B) watch a lot of fight scenes to get a feel for it.
So that’s what I’m doing this morning. Watching and studying fight scenes. And although I probably won’t use the moves seen here in my own scenes, here are a few of my favorites:
Since I'm in the process of plotting my second novel, the question of outlining (or not) is on my mind. I asked my friend Kelli Stanley, author of 2010 LA Times Book Prize finalist CITY OF DRAGONS, whether she is an outliner:
KS: Do I outline? Yes and no. It's complicated. 🙂
I use a rough outline to break down the story into acts or parts. CITY OF DRAGONS–and all the Miranda books–are constructed on a five act play structure. A contemporary thriller I'm working on is built on three acts.
Certain things need to happen at certain points along the way, and the division helps me make sure they do. I then break down the acts into chapters, and set a page limit for the chapters themselves.
As I write, I narrow the focus, so the outline becomes more detailed. But I never get too specific, particularly at the beginning, because one of the primary joys in writing–for me–is the process of discovery. I like the freedom of letting characters develop themselves, steal scenes, and I love the thrill of the unexpected–I like to be surprised as much as a reader would. At the same time, crime fiction demands a certain pace, which itself constricts and expands depending on the scene, your goals, and the stage you are in the plot. Writing an outline keeps me focused on those elements–it reminds me of what's next, and acts as the spine of the novel–which I can then flesh out with much more freedom, knowing that key plot elements are planned ahead.
So yeah. You may have heard I finished DIARY OF BEDLAM. After giving it a good read-through, I can confirm that I love it. It is everything I wanted it to be.
Sure, it still needs some polishing. I have my own notes, and now I'm waiting on feedback from my beta readers to see what they think. But the key word here is "waiting." I don't want to touch the manuscript again until I get their comments. When I do, I will re-emerse myself in it so I can start shopping that puppy ASAP.
But waiting means I have a little time on my hands to plot my next novel. Initially I thought I'd jump right into the sequel to DIARY OF BEDLAM. But I also want to write a stand alone and a short story. Sure, a more disciplined person could do both, but in case you haven't been reading this blog over the years, I AM NOT THAT PERSON. I'm a one-project-at-a-time girl.
There's a novel I've wanted to write for at least ten years which takes place in contemporary Santa Monica. After spending so much time in 17th century London, I kind of think it might be time to put that old adage "write what you know" into practice. Then again, it has a male protagonist. What do I know about being a dude? Still, it explores a theme I'm interested in: what happens when you accidentally kill another human being? What does that feel like? How do you live with yourself?
But truth be told, I'm reluctant to leave Isabel Wilde (DOB's protagonist) and her world for any length of time. I'd really like to get a jump on the sequel by the time I'm looking for an agent.
Not that I'm complaining. Life is damned good right now, and it's nice to have choices.
(Okay, so after thinking about it, I'm 99% sure I'm going to start on the sequel to DOB. Stay tuned).
Yesterday, I posted on Facebook that I'd just typed THE END on the latest draft of my novel, DIARY OF BEDLAM.
What does this mean?
It means that I've got a finished novel, folks. A complete manuscript that tells a story from A to Z. It means I've got a novel I'll let others read.
Most importantly, it means that I've accomplished one of the the biggest goals of my life. I've dreamed about writing a novel since I was a teenager. And now I've done it. Frankly, that makes me feel a little weepy.
What does it not mean?
It doesn't mean it's perfect yet. It won't be ready to shop until I get and possibly incorporate reader feedback (some of which I've already done, but never on the complete novel). I think it's pretty damned good, but I'm also pretty sure it's not ready for publishing yet.
It will need some revisions as different people (first my trusted beta readers, then, hopefully agents, and dare I say it, an editor) read and give feedback.
Thanks to everyone for all the kind comments on Facebook and for all the support you've given thusfar in my journey. It helps more than you know!
Eric and I met at Left Coast Crime in Los Angeles in 2010 and have since become friends. To celebrate the release of Borrowed Trouble, we took some time out to chat about our writing processes.
I had this idea to ask published authors random questions now and then, all geared toward aspiring authors like myself.
Today, Stephen Jay Schwartz, author of BOULEVARD and BEAT, was kind enough to answer one of my questions about his experience with getting published.
A bit of background: Stephen was the Director of Development for film director Wolfgang Petersen. He's also written screenplays, and worked as a "script doctor," along with many other accomplishments in film.
I asked Stephen: "Did your background in film help you land an agent and/or book deal?"
SJS: "My background in film helped only in that I took a rather aggressive approach to finding an agent. The film business is a bit dog-eat-dog, in case you haven't heard, and it's good prep for almost anything else you do in life. However, I didn't know any book agents and I had to begin at the beginning. I did a ton of research to determine who the great agents were and I went out to pursue them, sending my query letter and the first fifty or so pages of my manuscript. My experience in film did help validate me on paper–it let the agents know right away that I had a history working with story. So, it probably helped to get them to start reading my material. By the way, I've circled back a bit now. I've got a screenwriting assignment for an action feature. So, I hope to write the screenplay and two novels in 2011."
I really, truly thought 2010 would be the year of Bedlam. While it certainly was a crazy year in some respects, it wasn't, sadly, the year I finished my book. I have to be okay with that.
I have every expectation of finishing the book in early 2011. I am, in fact, right on track for that. The problem is that I've been here before–I'm on a roll, I'm revising like crazy, and writing "THE END" seems iminent. Then something happens and that damned train gets derailed.
This time, it was a brain storming session with a good friend. One night at dinner she asked me "Why is she [my main character] doing this?" When I gave the answer, she said, "What I wanted to hear was this…" And it turned out that "this" was so much better than what I'd intended, I knew I had to incorporate this new, improved (and rather obvious) motivation into the novel.
While this hasn't required a full re-write, it has entailed moving sections around, adding passages, et cetera. It requires a new reading of the entire book, making sure every chapter is consistent with the changes that came before it in the last. For this novel-writing novice, it takes time.
I do believe that 2011 will be the year of Bedlam. The year I hope to get an agent, or better, sell DIARY OF BEDLAM. Regardless, it will be the year DOB is finished and a new novel is started. I also hope to write a few short stories as well. Since I've been revising DOB for over a year, I've done less actual writing, and I need to get back to that.
So here's to 2011. May we all accomplish our goals.
I haven't been updating my blog in the last few weeks because I've been spending my writing time revising my manuscript. After I finished my first revision, things unexpectedly took off for me–I still find it a challenge to keep my butt in the chair, but the work is moving much faster and feels much less tedious.
I'm also having a lot more of those moments when I read over my work and I think "wow, did I write this?" Moments when I forget I'm reading something I wrote and it feels like a real novel. Moments when I think maybe this is the reason why I've struggled so long to get this done, when I realize maybe I'm good enough to have my work published.
So lately, I've been pretty excited about this whole novel-writing thing. Though it still needs work, I can, with all honesty, say that I have written a novel. It didn't feel that way after I wrote my first draft because the story was just too disjointed and needed too much work to feel anywhere near done. Now, with my mid-October deadline around the corner, I am much closer to the finish line and I see–dare I say it–light at the end of the tunnel.
Why the October deadline? On October 13 I'm travelling to San Francisco for Bouchercon by the Bay. Last year I went having just completed my first draft. This year I want to go with a finished manuscript in hand and be able to report I've started querying agents. This is a huge milestone and it seems appropriate to make Bouchercon the deadline.
I'll see you in mid-October, and in the mean time, I hope you're also finding success in completing your dream projects, whatever they may be.
Today Kelli Stanley posted on Facebook she'd reached "The End" of her second Miranda Corbie book, "City of Spiders." The next step, she said, was a week of revisions.
A week? I've been revising for over a year off and on (honestly, more on than off). Clearly I'm doing something wrong.
So the coming week will be me, my manuscript, and copious amounts of coffee (and probably a little wine) to see if I can get through this second revision by the end of the week.
Observation #2:
This one is related to the first. When I was a runner, I had a trick to help make distances seem shorter (or go faster). I'd pick a point in the distance and run as fast as I could until I got to it. Always, about half-way there, I'd ask myself "Can I quit yet?" Then I'd ask myself "Are you there yet?" The answer, of course, was always no, so I had to keep on running as fast as I could til I got to the designated spot.
It occurred to me today I can use this trick for completing my manuscript. I ask myself numerous times during the day "Can I quit yet?" and then I ask myself "Are you there yet?" You guessed it, the answer is no. I can't quit til this is done (or I collapse in an exhausted heap).
"It sure seems like the majority of people in the
world think they can write a book. And not only write a book, but write
it as well as a published author. And not only just as well as a
published author, but just as well as bestselling published authors who
are among the elite in terms of building an audience and having their
work catch on with readers. There are lots of people out there who
think it's easy, think they could do it, and all but a handful are
wrong."
It was part of a longer post about writers having difficulty figuring out if their writing is good or not, which you can read here.
The truth is, I'm not sure if I can write a book worthy of publishing. If I do get published, I'm not sure if Diary of Bedlam will be the book that succeeds or whether it will it become one of those awful novels authors talk about that sit in their desk drawers as a reminder of their early failures. Of course I dream it will be a huge success–I fantasize about winning an Edgar and which actors will play my main characters. Then I set aside the fantasy and get down to work, because dreams will only get you so far.
I know the odds are tough and I know I have a lot to learn about the writing craft. But I admit to having blinders on, because if I stopped to worry too long about whether I can write a book that's good enough (and lucky enough) to get published, I'd give up. If I didn't think I could do it eventually, I wouldn't have even started.
And frankly, I'm not fit to do anything else. It's either this or being a barista at Starbucks, or a greeter at Wal-mart (not that I'm dissing any form of gainful employment since I have not been employed, gainfully or not, in ten years).
If I sound desperate, I am. But it is what I'd call controlled desperation. I know I want to write a novel. I know I want to have it published. I am driven by these wants, but drive is not enough. For me, some amount of desperation is necessary to motivate me to move forward. Sure it would be nice to move before the desperation stage, but hell, the only thing that really matters to me is that I'm moving.
When Diary of Bedlam is polished and ready to submit, I'll go back to work on it's sequel, the first draft of which is about 1/3 finished, called Diary of Deceit. But maybe for good measure I should change to working title to Diary of Desperation.
I think a lot about success, and I also think about failure. But since thoughts of failure come more naturally to me than those of success, I'm careful to shut away those niggling "maybe I can't do it" feelings as soon as they rise up. If it turns out I'm wrong and I can't do it, I'll deal with that later. After all, there's a Starbuck's on every corner, and I hear they're hiring (although in this economy, maybe not).
In the meantime, I'll leave you with this video of Howard Jones performing "Things Will Only Get Better" with Ringo Starr and Sheila E.:
The lyrics in verse two seem applicable to writing: "A lonely path, an uphill climb, success or failure will not alter it."