A writing exercise for your weekend enjoyment

I have a blistering migraine today (this is a regular occurrence for me. Stinks, but I'm used to it.) Today's is a little unusual, though, in that it's distorting my vision somewhat, so I'm kinda useless at the moment as far as typing goes. So in lieu of your regularly scheduled Karen's Thoughts on Writing on the Prosers, I bring you a fun writing exercise I did recently with the lovely and talented +Nina Niskanen (we've been trying to encourage each other to write more by posting every-other-day exercises.)

This one I mined from Gail Carson Levine's great book (geared for children but excellent for all ages) Writing Magic.

Prompt:

“The first time I saw Stephen, he painted a hex sign on my right arm, and I couldn't move my fingers for three hours.”

Here's what I wrote:

The first time I saw Sam1, he painted a hex sign on my arm and I couldn’t move my fingers for three hours. The next time he painted a lightning bolt encircled by an ivy vine, and I vomited for twenty minutes straight. I took him down to the med-bot repairshop before I fell ill again. At this rate my unit? corridor? barracks? some kind of collective noun here to indicate grouping of dwellings, but in a spacestation environment, not turf. At this rate my … <word>’s occupants were going to spend more time being sickened by our medbot than we were being helped by him.

Old McCreary looked up when I wheeled Sam1 through the iris of his door (better way to indicate some cool spacey-waycey door mechanism…) “Oh no, I’m not working on that lump of metal again. He got me with a nanoneedle for supposed Vegaian flu last time. I couldn’t bend my left knee for a week!” McCreary wheeled himself back into the dustiest corner of his dusty grimy shop. The smell of mechanical lubricant hung thick in the air.

“McCreary,” I said, trying to keep my voice firm but cheerful. He hated grumpy customers. “I need some help with our medbot unit. He’s clearly suffering from a fault or defect. My comrades on my corridor <snicker> need a fully functioning medbot to be able to perform their duties and attend school and work. Can you please assist us?”

McCreary was, after all, a mostly mechanized android. He had a skinplate, sure, but so did a lot of them. Sam1, for instance. When given a direct request by a fully skinned human, his programming should require him to comply. Should being the operative word here. I chewed the inside of my lip as I waited for the old bot repairman to answer.

You could almost see his android brain executing lines of code related to interactions with humans. First his brow furrowed, then his lips pulled back to reveal his partially yellowed teeth. For a skinplate, he went full-bore into the realistic stuff. Probably chewed Chetle, too. That crap will stain anything. The smile was clearly faked, but the words that followed were what I needed to hear.  

“Certainly Miss Shasta. I would be happy to attempt to assist you.”

I docked my credit chit before he could change his mind, gave Sam1 a light pat on the back of the shoulder, out of reach of his poorly-practicing medical appendages, and bolted out the opening into the mad chaos of Underlayer 7 on Laxima station.

Why don't you give it a whirl and see where your writing takes you?

My First Story - The Year Was 1984

I'm sure I wrote stories here and there throughout elementary and middle school, but the first story I wrote with intent was called, "A Few Changes". I wrote it my freshman year in high school, for a Creative Writing class.

That was a lot of years ago.

I believe I typed it on my Commodore Vic20 (that's a computer, kids) that I had bought with my own money when I was ten. There was some sort problem between the computer and the printer because double letters would print randomly on the page. The one and only copy I have of the story is testament to that. We never did figure out the problem, nor did the geniuses at The Federated Group. No Geek Squad back then.

The story is about 500 words. Nowadays we would call that flash fiction. That term didn't exist when I wrote it. "A Few Changes" is a quirky little story about the end of the world - and there's a blatant Douglas Adams reference regarding Norway. For reasons I'll explain in the next paragraph, I hesitate to tell you any more.

The scary thing is, as I look over this manuscript – double letters and all – I'm thinking that with a little polish, there are a few pro markets I could send this to. That doesn't seem right, of course. But, why not? Wouldn't it be the funniest thing if 30-year-ago me actually knew how to get my third SFWA qualifying sale? So I am throwing down a challenge to myself. I am going to clean this story up and start submitting it. I'll keep you updated on its rejections and responses.

This is a funny parallel to something that happened a few days ago. In a quest for fodder for a new middle grade SF novel, I pulled out my 2009 NaNoWriMo book. This was the first, and only, time I did NaNoWriMo. The story was horrible, no two ways about it. The characters, however, are quite intriguing. I'm almost certain that I'm going to recycle them somewhere, sometime soon.

When we first start writing, before we have a clue what we're doing, I think we have an instinctual ability that emerges from enthusiasm and ignorance. This is why I never throw anything away, no matter how bad it is. I have stolen from myself countless times. Sometimes it's just a name, sometimes a concept, or even chunks of story line. Everything I know now built upon what came before it, so I see no reason not to re-use some of the bricks.

Go ahead. Take a look at your old work. Look for the gems in the pile of doody. You may be surprised at what you find. Past writer you might have been smarter than you think. At the very least, you'll be able to see how far you've come. And who couldn't use that little ego-boost now and again?

On the other hand, it might be good for a laugh, and that's never a bad thing.

Now, off to do a little editing on a certain old story…

The 90-Day Novel and Writer Know Thyself

I told you I'd be giving you an update on the 90- day novel project. News is mixed. I like the discovery and story-telling philosophies in Alan Watt's 90-Day Novel, but the pace of the exercises isn't working for me. The first couple of weeks are spent on getting to know the character in depth. The idea is fine, but for me, a week of that is more than enough. Even now, heading into the third week, the bulk of the exercises revolve around character and the surface of plot is just being scratched.

Don't get me wrong, I believe character is important and I understand that it's the character's motivations and desires that drive the plot, but to dwell there forever isn't preparing me to write the type of story I want to write. In many ways, Watt's method seems to be leading people into to being good pantsers. (A pantser is someone who dives into their writing with little planning, preferring to figure the story out as they go along – by the seat of their pants.)

Truth is, the method of the book and my style of writing just don't mesh. By this point in the process, I prefer to know where I'm headed and should be developing a solid plan to get there. Otherwise, I lose momentum. Right now, I feel like I've lost the voice, the attitude, of the story. It won't be too hard to regain but I need to change course now or this project will end up dead in the water. I will continue to read Watt's book for his ideas on storytelling, but I will be switching back to my own method for plotting.

This is where understanding yourself as a writer becomes important. You'll read tips on how to do things and some of them will even come from your favorite authors; it's great to try those things, but don't get discouraged if they don't work for you. Know that your path and your method will be yours alone, and that's okay. That's the way it should be. That is what will make you the unique writer you are destined to be.

If you're so new to writing that you don't have your own method, take a look at your work habits. Do you like to plan your tasks, or do them on a whim? Do you like to tackle jobs in big chunks of time, or spread out in little bits? What time of day do you work best? Consider these things when you're planning out your time to write and when you're creating your goals. If you only have an hour to write each morning, don't be disappointed if you don't get to 2000 words every day. Be realistic and cut yourself some slack.

That's one element I like about the Watt book. It's very low pressure. He keeps reminding you that there are no mistakes at this stage – it's all discovery. That keeps the fear out of writing and that's a good thing. Your first draft should be fearless, which is actually very hard to achieve. Our over-thinking brains and social conditioning tend to get in the way. Any method that can reduce fear is fine by me.

So for as much as I'm veering away from the exercises in the book, it has still taught me a lot and I expect it will continue to do so. It's been a good exploration, and I'm sure the method works great for some people. In the end, I encourage you to try new things but remember to always be true to yourself.