Bad Writer, No Cookie

I have been sorely remiss in getting my words down on this electronic equivalent of paper. Sure, I can complain that the baby takes up too much time, or that I am having writers block, or any number of other excuses, but the truth is it is my own damn fault. There is no real reason I can’t write in small bursts of ten or fifteen minutes. I just need to write 700 words a day for 100 days to get my first draft done. I have the story in my head. I know how it ends, what it’s about, and who the main characters are. The only thing I have not done is – write it.

Starting tomorrow, 700 words a day, no excuses. Even if they are crap. Just words.

Lets see if this works now.

 

A note on the Shiny New Gay Marriages

Welcome to the club, friends.

Scalzi said it better than I ever could.

 

Clarion

I have aspirations to become a writer.

Well, to be fair, I am a writer – now I want to be a published author.

I had a couple of stories I was working on to send to the Clarion writing program. I was going to try to attend this year, considering it’s right down the road.

After some thought, I don’t think I’m going to try to attend this year. There are many reasons for this. Well, a few, anyway.

Reason, the First: We just had a new baby, and my wife has gone back to work. While I am certain we could get a babysitter for the six weeks of the program, I would feel awful, and it would be difficult to concentrate on the program.

Reason, the Second: Clarion costs about $1200 to attend, not to mention the $40 to apply and the selection process. We would not have the money this year for something that could be considered a luxury. I am a part of a couple of writing groups, so I can and will avail myself of that resource. That costs nothing but my time.

Reason, the Third: One of the things the workshop is interested in is your writing habits, and well, mine suck. I need to buckle down and start some. One hour a day, regardless, for now. One new story a month.

Reason, the Fourth: The stories just are not ready. I’ve learned so much writing them, and revising them, but they are just not good enough. Well, maybe they are – this is, after all, an unpublished author short-story intensive program – but I really feel like I can do so much better.

I guess that’s enough reasons for now. I’m not against going this year, I just don’t think I’m ready. I will be next year, though, and I will make sure of it. In the mean time, I have started work on a graphic novel, and I am going  to focus on that as my main project. Of course, I will work on the stories as well, and maybe if I can get published this year, I won’t HAVE to go to Clarion and spend all that money – I can just be successful all on my own – with the loving help of my wife, friends, and family, without whom I could do less than nothing.

 

Race, the followup

David Anthony Durham is the author of a fantasy novel, Acacia, and two historical novels. He was the initial impetus behind my previous post, Race in Writing in which I explain one of my views on race in direct relation to an interview he did with John Scalzi. (I linked it all on my other post.)

He is also a very cool guy.

David responded to my post with the utmost civility, which, if you read his blog, is pretty much how he does everything. So, because I’m new to WordPress and did not know specifically how to respond to his comment, I am responding here, just in case he pops over again.

David, I’d just like you to know, I really respect your comments and writings. No, I have not yet read your books, because I don’t really read historical fiction, and I generally wait until books are in mass market before I pick them up, unless the author does a tour (hint, hint). I am very excited, though, to read Acacia when it is in paperback, and I have plenty to tide me over until then. (I work at Border’s, so I’ll know. I’ll know.)

Now, the race issue.

People who know me will tell you I generally don’t censor myself. Occasionally, I edit myself, but that’s not really the same thing. So, when I post about something, I usually just say what is on my mind at the time; sometimes because I mean it, sometimes because I just want to see how it sounds so I can make up my mind, and sometimes as musings or consciousness streams. The previous post was some of the first, but mostly the second.

I leave all my writing up, whether good or bad; complimentary or rude; well-thought-out or off-the-cuff. I do this for many reasons, but the main one is Truth. I like people to know me. I like people to like me for my intelligence as well as my idiocy, and I like to see how I’ve evolved over time. When people comment on my posts, I love to see what they have to say, which is why I never delete comments, just like I never delete posts. I also use their comments as a reflection of what I’ve said, and pay attention. If I agree or not, I still appreciate them giving me something to think about, or even just an angry piece of their minds.

Well, David gave me something to think about, and while, as I’ve said, I won’t alter my previous post, I will answer David’s response to it.

David – you are correct. I based my opinion of you not only on the Scalzi interview, but on my ignorance of you, as well as some comments I’d gotten prior to writing that. Now that I’ve read your blog and conversed with you, at least within the confines of same, I know that my initial assumptions were very wrong. I stand by them as a documentation of a moment of space/time, but not as the truth. And while I do not regret what I said (since really, I don’t think I said anything insulting) I do now know it was a poorly informed opinion, and it has since been altered. (Although, if you read the first part of the post, I mentioned my desire to have David as a teacher. I stand by that assertion.)

All of what you put in your comment, David, I had already understood and had put behind me – but since you felt it necessary (and rightly so) to point out my faulty assumptions, I’m now stating what I’d already thought but never said. I do feel as if we would agree on quite a few things, as indeed we already have (even if I did mistakenly call your wife Irish.) I also feel that we would disagree on many things, as people often do, but in a good and constructive way, as people often don’t, as we both seem to be similar conversationalists. (Is that proper grammar? Oh well.)

At any rate, this is longer than I’d meant to make it, but I think I’ve made my point. David civil, Corby misinformed, “issue” past tense.

 

Race in writing

Over on Ficlets, John Scalzi has a very interesting interview with David Anthony Durham, the author of a new fantasy novel, Acacia.  I want to move to Fresno and have this guy for a Creative Writing teacher.

However. I have an issue with characterizing whites who do not make their worlds racially diverse as racists. It’s disingenuous to accuse whites of inadvertent (and not so inadvertent) racism since many whites live in a “white world”, and don’t really know the difference. For example, I live in Southern California. It’s a racially mixed bag. Lots of everything everywhere. So, how many friends of color, or any race other than white do I have? Like, two. Not because I avoid places where races mingle, I just don’t really make friends that easily, and I have to have some commonality to really open up to people (like comics or Star Trek). I’m sure I have plenty of commonality with people of all races, but the things I enjoy; scifi, fantasy, gaming, Rush concerts, etc; don’t pull much of a diverse crowd. It’s a lot of white males, and a fair portion of white females, with a small population of diversity.

So, according to Durham, I am racist, because I don’t live in the brown world he describes, and don’t write about it? He doesn’t live in the white one I am in, so maybe I should be offended that he isn’t just writing white characters. OK, well, of course not; I should be offended if he was JUST writing white characters, because, if you didn’t know, he’s not white. If he was just writing white characters, he would be selling himself short, and just writing to sell instead of writing to tell. (Hey, I like that. I’m using that again somewhere.)

But how many gay friends do I have? Almost all of them. I wonder how many gay people are in Durham’s novel. I wonder how many gay friends he has. (Well, he works at a university, so I’m guessing he has a few.) I wonder how many people are crippled in his book. I wonder if there are any people who have developmental deficiencies. I wonder how many women are in charge of armies, or ships, and are not just from a matriarchal culture, like the Amazons. How many polyamorous groups? And if any of these things are represented, are they negative or positive?

Most of my characters are clear. That’s because in many cases race is not important. Their race is whatever it needs to be to allow the reader to identify with them. I also include many gay characters in my writing, something that most writers don’t, and when they do, it’s generally as twink fairy-boys who flit around and lisp, or are conflicted by their desire for the hot prince who is in love with the hot princess (from a different kingdom, of course.)

You can’t write what you don’t know, and when you do, it just sounds stupid. Durham says that whites are a minority in the world. OK. But they may not be a minority where the story is set. Not having racially mixed characters is not racism, just like not having sexually mixed characters is not homophobia, or polyphobia. (It’s a word … now.) But pointing it out and using it to condemn an otherwise worthy writer, well, that’s just not being fair.

 

A preview of my latest story.

Generally, when George was stuck on a problem, be it work-related or personal, he liked to take walks. It didn’t matter what time of day or night; if he couldn’t work it out, he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he did. It almost always worked, sooner or later. On one occasion, he’d had a bug in one of his applications, and he just couldn’t get it repaired. He’d worked at it from the front, from the back, and he’d even asked that asshole Jenson to give him a hand, which had pretty much told everyone how desperate he was. Nothing seemed to work. So he stepped out into the hallway, down the stairs, out the front door of the office building, turned the corner on 9th street, walked down about two buildings, and saw a Buddhist Ashram that he’d never noticed before. He stepped inside and the head monk, or priest, or whatever they were called made a comment about looking for answers, which George couldn’t dispute. Then he’d given George a book, which he opened, read one sentence, and immediately figured out how to fix his programming error. George gave the monk a twenty dollar bill, kept the book, and ran back to the office. In little less than an hour, he not only had the error fixed, but had integrated two new features into the application that would enhance it for the end users while making it much easier to maintain and troubleshoot. The book sat on his desk now at work, and he’d referred to it now and again, but it had never provided another programming answer. It was a good book, though, and George frequently read it in the bathroom.

 

And … We’re off.

I’ve put up my first story here, with the promise of more to come. Please take a look, and let me know what you think. Thanks.

 

Soon. Soon.

I have a short story just waiting for the edit to come back from a friend. As soon as that happens, it will be available to read here.

I am also working on other projects, to be described when they are closer to fruition.

 

The beginning.

Hello. Hello. <bows>

<slight applause>

My name is Corby. I will be presenting to you, whomever you might be, my views on writing, my successes and failures in publishing, and various and sundry writing tools. Also, I will talk about authors whose books and stories I am enjoying, and even those I did not.

<scattered applause, a few sighs, a grunt of “hear, hear”>

So, I now bid you Adieu. Thank you for your time, and goodbye.

<Walks off stage to loud applause>