Do you know passive voice when you see it? Can you pick up on it instantly? I wonder. Because if you’re an American and English is your first language, the answer is probably no.1 Though it’s not your fault if you don’t really know. Many times along the path between kindergarten and graduating high school, in college English and Creative Writing courses as well, I was taught that passive voice and to be verbs were essentially the same thing. A few books along the way may have defined it correctly, but if so, this was lost on students and teachers. (I had at least one teacher who certainly would have known the difference but it never came up.)

The preeminent American book of all things grammatical and fussy, the Strunk & White, doesn’t seem to fully grasp the passive voice either.2 And so many American English teachers worship this text, perpetuating the problem.

Now if you learned English formally as a second language in a country other than the U.S., you probably learned passive voice correctly and the article I’m about to link to may be sort of duh to you. My apologies. I first learned passive voice wasn’t what I thought it was due to a blog comment (not on this site) by someone who formally learned English as a second language.

Fortunately, by that time I had already figured out that there wasn’t anything wrong with was’s or is’s in my writing. A few years back after reading several Rowling, Gemmell, and Moorcock books back-to-back, it occurred to me that with their frequent use of was their writing was technically bad. (Based on advice I’ve seen from teachers and American fiction editors.) I had a good laugh, realized that voice and story are far more important, and overcame much that had restrained my writing style. (We must all come to these points in life, in one subject or another.)

This fascinating article on Passive Voice from the University of North Carolina will help you figure out what passive voice really is. I’ve excerpted their list of passive voice myths below.

Myths

1. Use of the passive voice constitutes a grammatical error.
2. Any use of “to be” (in any form) constitutes the passive voice.
3. The passive voice always avoids the first person; if something is in first person (“I” or “we”) it’s also in the active voice.
4. You should never use the passive voice.
5. I can rely on my grammar checker to catch the passive voice.

All of these are well explained on their site. I highly recommend it for anyone who spends any significant amount of time writing.

Don’t be misled like I was. Too many to be verbs may result in lackluster writing that lacks action and verve, but that doesn’t mean the result is passive or wrong. Passive voice itself isn’t wrong when used appropriately. And trust me, too many active verbs ends up giving your prose a strained and unnatural feeling, lacking in natural rhythm and style.

Anyways, you can be the judge of my own grammatical follies and idiosyncrasies in my books: Wrath of the White Tigress and The Storm Dragon’s Heart. Check them out and just see if you can remember to pay attention to grammar all the way through. (There’s no reward if you can. Copyeditors need not apply.)

This post was originally composed by Lindsay Buroker.

As authors, we spend a lot of time trying to promote our books. Our biggest obstacle is obscurity because there are a lot of books out there. No, really. A lot.

We like to think that good stories are all it takes to make it (in author terms “make it” usually means “become well known enough and sell enough books that I can quit my day job and write for a living”), but you can doubtlessly think of mediocre books that are selling bazillions of copies and authors you love who never make it out of the “mid-list” category.

Sometimes it’s just the author (or publishing house) with the biggest marketing budget who wins, but you, as a reader, have amazing power. Don’t believe for a second that you don’t have anything to do with whether an author makes it, because you do. A lot. No, really. A lot.

Why does this matter to you? Well, authors who get to quit their day jobs can write faster and put more books out for you!

The following are some little things you can do that can make a big difference. Some of them only take a few seconds. Your favorite authors will appreciate the effort. Trust me.

Helping out on Amazon

Amazon is the big kahuna of book sellers, especially when it comes to ebooks, so helping an author “get found” on there can give them a big boost. You can certainly do these things on other bookstore sites as well (nothing against copying and pasting a review, for example), but Amazon tends to have more cool features to help an author get found.

Here’s the list (any one of these things can help):

• If you do nothing else, consider writing a review on Amazon, even if the book already has quite a few and/or you’ve reviewed it elsewhere. There’s evidence that ratings and reviews factor into the Amazon algorithms that decide which books are promoted on the site (i.e. certain books are recommended to customers who bought books in similar genres). If reviewing isn’t your bag, don’t worry about writing paragraphs-long in-depth studies of the book; maybe you could just pen a few sentences with a couple of specifics about why you liked the book.

• “Tag” the book with genre-appropriate labels (i.e. thriller, steampunk, paranormal romance). You don’t have to leave a review to do this; you just need an account at Amazon. A combination of the right tags and a good sales ranking can make a book come up when customers search for that type of story on Amazon.

• Give the book a thumb’s up. This takes less than a second and probably doesn’t do much, but it may play into Amazon’s algorithms to a lesser extent than reviews/ratings.

• Make a “Listmania” List and add your favorite authors’ books to it. This creates another avenue for new readers to find books. It’s better to create lists around similar types of books (i.e. genres or sub-genres) than to do a smorgasbord, and consider titling it something description so folks will be more inclined to check it out, ie. “Fun heroic fantasy ebooks for $5 or less”

• If you have a Kindle, highlight some wise or fun quotations from the book and share them publicly (if enough people share their highlights, they’ll show up at the bottom of a book’s page).

Helping out with Social Media

If you’re involved with Twitter, Facebook, Digg, StumbleUpon, etc., you can give your favorite authors a shout-out when they release new books. If they blog, you can follow their site (through Google Reader or other RSS readers) and share the link when they post something that may be interesting to your friends. If they’re on Twitter, you can follow them and retweet their links now and then.

Authors don’t expect you to follow them 24/7 and repeat everything they say (that might actually alarm some folks…), but a little promotional help now and then is greatly appreciated.

If you like to be social about books, you can join sites such as Goodreads, Shelfari, or LibraryThing. You can help your favorite authors by posting reviews and talking about their books on those sites, or you can just use those places to find online reading buddies with common interests.

Helping out with Your Blog

Do you ever talk about books or what you’re reading on your blog? You might consider reviewing your favorite authors on your site (you could even make a few dollars if you signed up as an Amazon affiliate).

Also, if most of your favorites maintain websites, you could add an “author blogroll” list in your menu with links to those sites.

And Lastly…

These days, most authors have websites and contact forms so you can get in touch. If you enjoyed their work, consider sending them a short note to let them know. While it won’t help them sell more books, it’ll make their day.

Thanks for reading (this post and books in general!).

This post was originally composed by Lindsay Buroker and is shared with permission.

Here’s an excerpt of an interview I did for Darkcargo. Go check it out!

A common argument–complaint, maybe–that I overhear is that there’s nothing new to fantasy, everything is either a re-hash of Tolkein or paranormal romance. How would you contest that?

As far as basic story structure goes, nothing is new. I’ve studied a lot of mythology and storytelling and… I don’t want to bore your readers. Suffice to say: Everything is new; nothing is new. Originality is overrated. I think sci-fi and fantasy fans tend to worry about this a lot more than most readers. I mean, there’s nothing new in thrillers or mystery or romance either, so why should fantasy be any different?
On the other hand, the details and specifics of every story are different and frequently highly original. Every author mixes the basics differently and brings new things to the table because every writer is intrinsically different.
And I have yet to see as many Tolkien clones as some readers like to claim. I have only seen two or three close copies, and even those didn’t have the same texture as LotR.

And for the record, a reading of Northern European mythology will dull one’s view of Tolkien’s originality. Not saying he didn’t create a lot or original material, but he also borrowed a good bit himself.

Underwood No. 5 in the REH Museum

You might think the new Conan movie inspired this article. Alas, you would be wrong. Its source is my immense appreciation of Robert E. Howard’s work and my love affair with vintage manual typewriters.

To understand the blood and thunder style of REH, indeed all our classics of swords, sorceries and heroics, I think you need an appreciation of the manual typewriter’s effect on the craft of fiction.

There’s this great scene in The Whole Wide World where Robert E. Howard pounds away on his typewriter, dictating to himself with the passion of the possessed. That machine, which Howard purchased in 1928 and used till the very end, was the classic Underwood No. 5.

For decades, when most people thought “typewriter” this 30 lb. desktop machine was what they had in mind. Millions were produced between 1901 and 1932, so even today the Underwood No. 5 isn’t a rare find, nor particularly valuable unless in mint condition. When Howard bought one of these machines, he knew he was getting a reliable companion for his career. Think about the investment value. Many of these machines still work now. Think your Dell Inspiron or Macbook will be workable in 80 years? Me neither.

You can get a No. 5 on eBay for $50 or less, non-restored. (For restoration you’d need a typewriter repair place, which is becoming increasingly rare.) You’ll pay almost as much for the machine as for shipping. Sadly, I don’t have one myself. Yet. I own ten typewriters already and my wife scowls when I mention a new one… I do have an L.C. Smith from the mid-30’s and a Royal Portable from 1929 (mint condition and ever so precise), so I can well attest to the action and experience of these old machines.

Many of you have likely never used a manual typewriter before. Perhaps an electric, perhaps none at all. (I touched my first computer in 1983, resented the electric typewriters we learned to type on in school, and didn’t experience the true pleasure of the manual typewriter until early 2010.) If your experience is limited to electric machines, then you only know half the story. It’s just not the same.

There’s an almost primal experience to using a manual, like a sculptor chiseling or a carpenter hammering. The striking of the keys, the smell of oil and metal, the gunfire staccato of striking keys (the sharp feedback as they rebound), the bell ring warning the end of the line approaches, the scraping return of the carriage, the scroll of paper. It is a thing of art and beauty.

As for the effect on writing… Take a look at some books from the 70’s, 80’s, and 90’s. Notice something? They got bigger with each decade, huh? There was a marketing dynamic, sure. But computers allowed writers to match the dynamic. Allowed us all to easily become messy and long-winded.

REH Bedroom with Desk and Typewriter

You don’t often see writing with the fast-paced, blazing action you find in old pulps. Some of that is style, but when you type on a manual machine the very writing of the story has an immediate physicality to it, not unlike the fast-paced action in REH’s work. There is sound and action.

I notice the sounds more in older books. The brevity of the words. The rush of the action. Computers, gods know I love them, simply don’t have this kind of soul. And writing with them, I think, becomes more cerebral and less a physical act of creation. And it shows. Our books today tend towards lengthy description and introspection far more than the thundering heroic fantasy pounded out on the old manuals.

When you write something on a typewriter, you have to mean it. Remember, if you mess up or change your mind, that’s the whole page to retype. There’s no time for rambling and dithering along through a story. You get to the point. You say what you mean. And you say it right the first time. And, I think the nature of the machine itself changes how you write. For bold pulp action, I think it changes it for the better.

Note: I have thus far written one novel on a manual typewriter, a 1955 Hermes Rocket. I plan on composing all my future works on various typewriters. Naturally they will get scanned in and edited on the computer. There are advantages to our modern world.

This article originally appeared on Rogue Blade’s Home of Heroics.

This is excerpted from my interview with David Wisehart on Kindle Author.

DAVID WISEHART: What is your writing process?

DAVID ALASTAIR HAYDEN: These days, I get up, climb the stairs to my office, and begin banging out a tale on one of my vintage manual typewriters, probably the Hermes Rocket or the Olympia SF or the Olympia SM-3, all from the 1950’s. (I have a lovely, mint-condition 1929 Royal Portable that’s begging for some story work as well.) At some point I will scan in those words, using some OCR software, and edit them in Scrivener on my Macbook. From there, I will generate an ebook using Scrivener and Calibre. This week, I just did the layout for the print edition of Wrath of the White Tigress in QuarkXpress 9.

On the artistic side of things, I have completed five novels and my writing process seems to change with each one. To finish my first book, I had to break down and plot every step my characters took. I needed to see the whole structure of the thing to complete it. I had so many aborted starts before that. The second and third books didn’t need quite so much support. I did a more basic chapter-by-chapter outline for them, but ended up deviating off in more interesting directions as I explored their stories. My fourth book completely ignored the plot I made for it, so I didn’t bother to plot the fifth one at all. I just developed a basic concept and started writing seat-of-the-pants style. Next time, I think I’ll write a one-page summary and then go from there.

Read the rest of the interview.

The power went out here after a storm yesterday afternoon. A small storm. We live deep in the woods. Lots of places where a tree could strike the lines along the way. We were supposed to have power back on at 6 pm. Didn’t happen until 12:30 am. Grumble.

Naturally, the battery went out on my Macbook, delaying completion of the ebook I was working on. (I unplugged the Macbook during the storm.) And I hadn’t charged my iPod Touch in a few days, so I couldn’t read any books or write on it.

The solution?

Why pull out a typewriter, of course. Specifically, my gold-speckled Olympia SF from the 1950’s (?). Lap-sized with the sweet action you’d expect from an Olympia. And of the ten typewriters I own, it has my favorite font. (I’m a 12 characters per inch kinda guy.)

The rub, of course, is that I’m not working on composing anything new at the moment. I have two novels in first draft state that I’m working on revising. I’m generating two ebooks. I have new things planned, but I don’t want to start them until I take care of the aforementioned projects.

I could have read by my bright LED Coleman lantern. (A Hunger Games reread is next up.) But I wasn’t in a reading mood. I wanted to work damn it.

So I started a new story: THE BONES OF KAZARDAHL. Novel, short story, novelette, novella? I don’t know really. Though I’d wage money on novella. It’s adventure fantasy. Not too serious or grim, though that might change. I have barely an inkling of where it will go. Just the notion of a few characters. Should be fun.

How it starts:

With fire and sword and a thirst for something, anything but the relentless cold and howling winds of the North Mark, the reavers descended on the sleeping town of Kazardahl. Sleeping save for one man who had retired there. One man, but not just any man. Once he had been the greatest wizard in the Kingdom of Bregh. And awake this late at night he was because retired or not, it is not the habit of a wizards to sleep at night.

If you are going to offer authors copyediting or other publishing services, please don’t quote prices in terms of pages.

I have no idea what the page-length is for any of my novels. I’m certain I don’t care. I’m certain that if I knew it would tell me nothing of value. Yes, if I format the work for a standard submission, I will know how many pages there are, if I bother to look at the total. (Never have before.) Assuming everyone uses the same beautiful Courier font and margins, though…

But if I’m looking to produce an ebook myself, I’m never going to use standard submission formatting. Why would I?

And if you quote your by-page services along with specific formatting requirements, that would work. However, the message it sends to me is that you’re stuck in the past.

Pages are variable in the 21st century. Stick to word counts.

(Yes, I could tell you how many pages are in any of my new short story drafts because I do those on manual typewriters. However, those are only rough drafts, not even close to finished works. Plus, the pitch sizes and line spaces are very different on the ’29 Royal Portable, the ’56 Olympia SM-3, and the ’55 Hermes Rocket. So that doesn’t tell you much, either. And really, this bit here is beside the point. I just wanted to talk about typewriters.)

Some people need to chill out about it. By some people I’m mostly referring to writers and hardcore readers.

• The world will not end if you write a story in the present tense.
• The world will not end if you read a story in the present tense.
• No story will, in fact, ever end the world.

I’m bringing this up because I mentioned writing in the present tense in my previous post on Fast Writing. I find it easy and natural to write in the present tense. Doesn’t bother me to read it, either. But I have never used it in a story because of all the don’t-do-its I’ve heard over the years, starting in creative writing classes at university.

So I thought I’d google it and see how things have changed?

Well, it seems that it is both more acceptable and more vilified than ever before. Sigh. Life in the modern world. Or is it only modern America with our increasing love of polarization?

The amount of vitriol some spew over present tense writing would make you think there is a shortage of past tense books they could pick up for their enjoyment. It makes some people irrationally angry. Fine, you don’t like it. It pisses yellow in your mellow. Okay, sure. Not your thing. But it is not kicking your kittens. It won’t hurt you. You don’t have to read it, or attack others over it.

I also saw numerous claims about its use hurting sales. Well, I’m sure it wouldn’t help you get an agent or get your first book contract from a publisher. It’s also killing Suzanne Collins’ Hunger Game trilogy. No one is buying those books because…

Oh wait, people ARE buying those books in mass.

Maybe the average reader doesn’t give a shit about tense so long as the book is captivating and entertaining. This is probably the case. Your average reader doesn’t go online and bitch about writing.

Maybe she’d sell a few more copies, but I doubt it. First person present tense seems necessary for those books. And yes, one can find plenty of Hunger Games mentions spread amongst the vitriol. Often as an example of a book they liked despite the poor choice of tense. Took them so long to get used to it. Threw them off. Etc.

There are many arguments for and against present tense writing. I will not recount them unless asked. I do not find them persuasive in general.

What about you, dear reader?

Have a sane opinion on present tense writing?

Some might say that what I call order is the rearranging of deck chairs on the USS Total Chaos. One man’s madness is, well, madness. Anyway, as a reminder: I have dreamt up a better way for me to write my rough drafts, which I’m calling “fast drafting” because I like giving things names. (I also love creating systems.)

I’d like to clarify one point. This new system of my devising cannot replace that most important and universal requirement of writing any significant work: Butt-in-Chair. You cannot escape this requirement with any system.

Before getting into the details, I offer this excerpt from Ian Fleming, creator of James Bond:

The whole of this four hours of daily work is devoted to writing narrative.

I never correct anything and I never go back to what I have written, except to the foot of the last page to see where I have got to. If you once look back, you are lost. How could you have written this drivel? How could you have used “terrible” six times on one page? And so forth. If you interrupt the writing of fast narrative with too much introspection and self-criticism, you will be lucky if you write 500 words a day and you will be disgusted with them into the bargain. By following my formula, you write 2,000 words a day and you aren’t disgusted with them until the book is finished, which will be in about six weeks.

I don’t even pause from writing to choose the right word or to verify spelling or a fact. All this can be done when your book is finished.

This is basically what I’m talking about when I describe my needs and problems, except I lack Mr Fleming’s discipline. And I am certain that I write a far messier draft than he ever did. I’m just not a clean writer. Not my strength. Also, let’s be honest. Fleming didn’t have the temptation we modern writers have with the backspace key, saving multiple drafts files, and so forth.

But yeah, if the system doesn’t work, I’m back to the discipline method. And some discipline will probably still be required.

So, what are my requirements for fast drafting?

• To efficiently capture the basics without wasted words. No fluff!
• Speed! Speed! More speed!
• Minimize rewriting on the second draft. I prefer to add good writing rather than subtracting then adding.
• To see the rough draft as raw story and not shitty, discouraging writing.

An additional benefit to this system is that I can quickly scan through the dialogue and actions to be sure that what I’m writing is logical. Why work my ass off on a piece of dialogue only to discover the character should not have said that? Maybe not necessary for you, oh gentle and more logical reader, but for me…

I have a tendency to get so caught up in the language that I sort of forget about logic and consistency. And sometimes I will bend the universe to preserve what I’ve already written.

The ability to scan material quickly would lead to even more writing speed. Also, when I go back to do the second, fill-in draft I can scan for logic and story problems and see the flow of the story without having to dig all that out of the muck that I used to write.

So you feel teased by now, and you say: “Get on with it, man! Let’s see your latest and perhaps greatest crazy scheme.”

So I present to you my new fast draft process which was inspired by screenplays, comic scripts, and the like. But without the crazy formatting those media need. It is essentially my own method. Other formatting could work. I went with what I find most comfortable because it is, after all, just for me. (Some years ago, I wrote a half-dozen or so unpublished comic book scripts.)

First, I will present an example. Then I shall explain the rules.

TOMAS STRIKES OUT
– Badlands east of Forbidden
– Tomas, Lidia

Scrubland stained red by a sun setting into wispy clouds.
No one within sight.
Impossibly dry. Wind kicking up dust. Hot as balls.

Tomas kicks the dirt off his boots and climbs into the saddle.
Whips his head east and west looking for his enemies. Finds none.
Flicks the reins and heads off to the north.

Tomas
“We’ll be there in three days.”

Lidia
“Four. At least.”

He imagines Lidia’s mocking smile.
He kicks the horse’s flanks. The beast gallops.

Tomas shouts
“By God, I’ll make it in two now.”

You will note what I wrote is in present tense. I find it difficult to write summary material in the traditional story past tense. Honestly, I think I write better, more immediate prose in present tense anyway. I tend to use a far more active voice, better verbs, punchier nouns. Not sure about the reason for this. Note, I have not completed any stories in present tense.

If I plan on saving writing time, though, I must learn to write these in whatever tense I plan to use for the story.

Keep in mind that I’m working from a plot framework. What I’m doing here, in a way, is an extensive framework for the entire story, as with a comic script for instance. But instead of taking this script and telling the story with art, I will go back and complete the story with polished prose.

So, what are the rules for what you just saw?

• Scene Tag/Name in ALL CAPS
• Location: if it is new or has changed. Otherwise, set the scene as it begins. Details may be filtered throughout the scene and not just lumped into the start.
• No unnecessary or involved descriptions at this stage.
• List characters present.
• Describe a character succinctly when they appear.

• Use single spacing for each character or setting segment.
• Block paragraph spacing between segments.

• For each character segment: Feeling, action, and dialogue each get a unique line
• Actions are done in bursts with each sequence of action getting its own line.
• Dialogue written out with quotes as normal but no attributions or interrupting “beat” actions such as: “Write some dialogue now.” Lidia picked up the knife. “Or else.”

• Don’t waste time finding the perfect words or images.
• Write briefly with evocative nouns, evocative verbs.
• Tight, focused writing.

• Don’t choose these rules over a piece of inspired, perfect prose that jumps out of the aether. Embrace the moment and keep moving. The rules can be broken as needed.
• Zen.

Titanic Deck Chairs

A future post will give a more extensive example. And if requests are made or confusion ensues, I will attempt to clarify and extrapolate on the rules I’m using in case all that only made sense to me. I am excited about this process and I will keep you all updated on how it goes. Whether I succeed, whether I fail. Should be fun!

I like my first drafts rough, exquisitely rough. Brillo pad. Chin of Chuck Norris. First season of Stargate SG-1.

I know most writers have to get things written up mostly right before they can move on. I get that. I wish I could do the same, but that’s not how I work best.

Too often I try to be like most writers and I just end up editing and revising as I go. Now, that can be a problem for anyone if overdone. But it’s a huge problem for me.

I have to keep my momentum and enthusiasm. Especially since I really like revising and editing and can spend a long time doing it. If my enthusiasm diminishes too much, I’m going to lose weeks of work to Dofus or Ancient Empires Lux or Madden or ennui.  Self-doubt will kick in. I will start wondering if there’s a better way to handle a character, background details, plot points, and so forth.

The story bogs down, the pacing slows because my writing slows. All my energy is lost.

This I do not like.

So maybe you’re wondering how rough, because maybe you write a rough draft like everyone else and you think I’m a little crazy. I’m not kidding about the chin of Chuck Norris.

Once I start rolling, I try to type as fast as the story comes into my head. I don’t worry about using the best words, proper grammar, cliches, appropriate dialogue. Sometimes I don’t make full sentences, and I’m not talking intentional fragments. I just slop down whatever so I can keep moving with the story playing in my head.

For me, a rough draft is like trying to transcribe a movie as it plays.

Sure, I slow down at times and have to think through a scene. I may need to reflect on a character’s choices or what have you. But I find I do that a lot less when I’m rolling on the fast draft. (I do most of my story pondering while lying in bed falling asleep or avoiding getting up. Though I have been known to spend 15 minutes washing my hands a few times a month without any sense of the passage of time.)

My normal procedure for a novel: Write first two chapters and a one page gist/synopsis of some sort. Then write out a plot, the sort you might put on note cards (as I do virtually). No way I’m flying blind. I’ve tried that. Doesn’t work for me. I run into problems about 10,000 words in. Happened to me all the time before I plotted and subsequently completed my first complete novel. Happened to me this year as well when I tried to discovery write again. Same ceiling, ten years later.

So, first I must set my basic framework. (I don’t plot with any detail.) Then I massively diverge from said plot as I go. Sometimes enough for me to have to go and alter the plot, but usually I just leave it sitting there in case I need it. I think the way it really works is that my gist/synopsis, however long it might be, is the first telling of the story. The plot is the second telling. The rough draft is the final telling, which must be cleaned up, of course.

As I go, I concentrate on writing out all dialogue and basic actions. (Oh, the dialogue is awful!) I will describe scenery and set the atmosphere. But sometimes, I’ll leave scene description out to be added later. Or I’ll just write a quick list of phrases or objects: David entered the dark room, roses strewn about, candles, a music he’d never heard before. Demons, red scales, wings of Spanish moss. Then later I will make this into a good description of the scene. Hopefully.

It often turns poetic. Sometimes, I’ll thrown down some beautifully written lines. But most of it is just really messy and written without care.

“So what’s the problem?” you say. “Just write in your fast, messy style and get on with life. Get some work done.”

The problem is two-fold.

First, it can be difficult psychologically to write a bunch of pure crap. You look at what you wrote yesterday and you think: “Them words is shit, man. They shit.”

Ennui sets in. Depression. Fatigue. What have I done!? I am a fool!

Second, when you write a rough draft like a fourteen year old writing his first novel, maybe his second, you’re going to have to spend a lot of time revising when it comes to the second draft. Well, not so much revising as complete rewriting. A lot of wasted time. This is why I try to slow down like other folks, but then my story goes nowhere. So rock, hard place, my balls crushed.

All I’m really doing is drafting story. I’m not drafting my final presentation.

You cannot know this if you haven’t played role-playing games with me, but my off the cuff imagination is .… off the cuff. I think best when I moving fast. I just let loose and then the good stuff comes out. Characters become cooler. Situations and settings deepen spontaneously. And so forth.

All my novels have required correction for slow beginnings because in the past I have written up the first several chapters just right to get a feel for the writing before cutting loose (with more or less success). Cutting loose, as I said, can be tricky and I usually fail to do it consistently until the last third at the book. When I sense the end is near the crappy writing starts flying like a tornado in the sludge field of a CAFO.

So, I must write a fast story draft. It will be rough. For years I just accepted this is how it would work. Sure it would be nice if I could go even faster and didn’t waste time rewriting the story to remove all the bad sentences and bring order. If my rewrite was more addition and less subtraction followed by addition. Also, would be nice if I could read back over what I’ve written without dealing with the cognitive dissonance of my bad writing.

Fortunately, at last the idea for a new method has come to me like Jesus with a box of chocolates asking for a second date.

A plan, alas for you, which I will not describe until Part 2.

Hopefully, you have found this amusing. (I think all writerly quirks are.) More so, if you are wired to write like I am in any way, perhaps you will find this inspiring or helpful.