As I mentioned in my previous post, an awesome young journalist named Norelle interviewed me for Seattle Wrote. She posted the article today, and I’m actually blushing. It’s a nice read, if I do say so myself. Check it out, and follow her blog, particularly if you love books, authors, kittens, and freedom.
But mostly books and authors…
I gave my first interview yesterday to a very cool young journalist named Norelle, who keeps a blog highlighting Seattle writers and reviewing books. The blog’s called Seattle Wrote and I encourage you to check it out, particularly if you’re a new writer—or just one who needs a bit of inspiration. As we talked, one particular thought kept striking me in the face like a fat salmon in the hands of one of the stooges: I’m incredibly lucky. Following this came the realization that my writing is about relating to people.
My friends are no doubt laughing at this point. I relate to people about as well as sharks relate to Tonka trucks.
I got into writing to impress a girl. I wrote a really awful novel in three months because I didn’t have the guts to actually ask her out. I didn’t get a date, much less a smooch, but I did meet Jack Cady. Jack informed me that I’d plumbed new depths of awful with this novel, but he did like my female characters, and thought I wrote snappy dialogue.
He then warned me not to get an English degree, but instead encouraged me to get experience in the world. So I became a hermit IT dude and grew very pale. I fell in love, got my heart broken, and fled to the desert to become an archaeologist…as one often does. I informed the admissions committee that I didn’t want to be an archaeologist, I wanted to be a writer, but they took me anyway. My grad school years taught me tons, and ended up with me working in Iraq on the mass graves team, where I coped with my stress by writing a 300,000 word “novel.”
It wasn’t any good, but I’d gotten a lot better at writing and knew I could actually do it.
When I left Iraq, I went back into IT and tried to refine that 300K monstrosity into something saleable. It didn’t work, but it kept the fires going. When I got laid off, I wrote another novel—Antigone’s Fall. And shortly after that, I got my first professional job as a writer for the Seattle Courant. It only lasted a month, but then Marti and Dave hired me to help get Aion out the door and my writing career actually took off.
For all the progress I’ve made, for all the things I’ve learned, I can look back and see the faces of people who helped me get here. It’s a long, long line of relatives and friends—even enemies. Countless veterans contributed their time and expertise to my education. Editors took the time to build me up, not blast my idiocy and inability to not write in passive voice. My awesome employers gave me work and opportunities to push myself.
As I tried to distill answers to Norelle’s questions, I realized how much relationships factor into my writing. Whenever I get feedback on a story, or an email from a fan, that’s a connection to cherish. Whenever someone gives me advice or encouragement, I’m incurring a debt that I can’t ever fully repay to them…but I can return the favor to someone else in the future.
Not related to anything. I just thought it looked pretty.
The experience reminded me to be a little more humble—and a lot more grateful.
W00t! TERA's launched!
TERA‘s launched. This game has occupied my thoughts, dreams, and most of my world domination brainstorming sessions since January 4th, 2010. As a writer, part of my joy came from being in from the beginning to help shape and refine the vision for the Western market. TERA is not my creation, nor solely my vision, but unlike my previous experience on Aion as a fledgling writer, I felt up to greater challenges.
Certainly I got them.
Racial characteristics, voicing, backstory, naming guidelines, vignettes to tantalize fans, blog posts, marketing copy, scripts for videos, quests, not to mention naming critters and locations–yeah, TERA certainly challenged me. I certainly didn’t work in a vacuum, though. Each of the writers on our team did this, contributing their own vision to our game world, and I got to work with those as well. The castanics (my babies!) possess a distinctive sound and outlook, but I don’t know that I’d have done as great a job developing the voicing for each of the other races. I certainly couldn’t have imagined some of the traits my awesome colleagues did, but I loved incorporating them.
Working with the writing team on Aion was certainly the best summer job ever, but it was the full-time work on TERA that pushed me. Not gonna lie, there were frustrations along the way, but that’s normal for any project you’re passionate about. You wouldn’t be frustrated if you didn’t care, right? At the same time, there were a lot of rewards. I got to go to my first E3 show (where a lot of us spent our free time watching World Cup games). I’ve brought ideas to my boss and watched them come to life. I wrote my first tie-in short story (hint: it’s the amazeballs blue cover on your right). I’ve been part of a company that appreciates me and all its employees. We celebrate birthdays and anniversaries. I’ve got a gorgeous wood pen, a really nice company jacket, and a sweet hoodie because my company likes to mark occasions.
We also have a ton of cake. No lie.
Is TERA the best MMORPG ever? I’ll let you decide that. It’s certainly my best work yet and I’m proud to be a part of the team that brought it to the Western market. It’s been an amazing journey so far and I’m anxious to see what comes next. Certainly I need to finish my next novel…and catch up on sleep. As for the game, I’ll be in there, right alongside you. In case you’re wondering, I’ll be the castanic mystic soloing the Big-Ass Monsters and laughing the whole time.
Today’s Wisdom: Don’t pick up and recap the bottle of ghost pepper flakes, NOT wash your hands, and then rub your eyes.
You’re welcome. Also, ow. Also also, ghost pepper flakes go GREAT with oatmeal.
I’m nearly finished with revisions to Stormcaller. It never ceases to amaze me what other people catch during their readings. Some readers caught the same typos and goof ups (for the record, I blame the Week of the Shitty Keyboards), but what really interests me is the questions people come up with. Sometimes they force me to question my assumptions, while others force me to clarify weakly-worded shite.
One question came up about a plot device I added late in the writing. The device serves a specific function, and does its job, but this reader asked something that scared the verbiage out of me. Forced me to reconsider the mechanism for the plot device. I’m not necessarily taking it out, but I definitely need to restructure its constraints.
When the final feedback comes in, and I put the finishing touches on the manuscript, I’ll be damned proud of the story I’ve written–and grateful for the assistance of my beta readers. It won’t be finished this weekend, but it might be done around May 5th or 6th.
Fingers crossed.
Rewrites continue on Stormcaller. I’ve gotten great feedback from several people (Thank you!) thus far. As a writer, I can already see where I’ve improved over previous works. As fond as I am of Antigone’s Fall, it’s apparent that Stormcaller is a stronger novel. While I’m not willing to totally attribute that to Erin Evans’s “Outline! Outline! Outline!” dictate, I must admit that knowing vaguely where the story was supposed to go made writing it easier.
Revisions, on the other hand, never seem easy.
The more I learn about the art and science of writing, the more I loathe myself during the revision process. Crutch words, passive voice, adverbs, and the like leap out at me and bludgeon me senseless. Typos don’t bother me because that’s just fast fingers talking, but weak-ass words like had, felt, and was shame me into wanting a Drain-o colada or three.
While revisions aren’t a fun part of the writing process, they’re where your real vision of the work comes to life. First drafts are just shite because you’re simply getting the words and ideas down on paper/dataspace. In your mind, however, even the first draft is epic because it’s the first time your idea came to life. You’ve got to shove those fuzzy feelings aside (to make room for gloom and self-hatred) and get down to the real work.
How to Revise a Novel
1. Take a break. Nothing clears your eyes like time and distance. If possible, get alpha readers to read a (cleaned up) first draft to look for stuff you can’t see anyway.
1a. Engage your brain elsewhere. Play a video game, draw something, fix something.
2. During the first re-read, just make notes. Don’t fix anything. Also, don’t keep alcohol nearby. You can’t afford to drink that much yet.
2a. Keep alcohol nearby anyway.
3. Hit the crutch words first. Unnecessary use of force on crutch words is authorized.
4. Hit the passive voice. Several times. Frankly, run through The 10% Solution, by Ken Rand. Then wipe your tears away and keep working.
5. If you’re fortunate enough to get feedback from people, consider their comments and questions. Adjudicate them. Maybe you’ll incorporate them, maybe not, but at the very least it’ll help identify areas in need of clarification (I never knew Mr. Darcy was the original pilot of the Black Lion! –”Pride and Prejudice and Voltron” (Seriously, it would rock!))
6. Resolve your hints, questions, and mysteries. If you’re not going to resolve them, tease them up, but make clear that you’re exploring those at a later date.
7. Check your logics. Of course it makes sense to you–you’re the bloody author. Did you explain everything to your reader?
8. Punch up your beginning. Make it tight. Tighter. Cinch it up so it can’t breathe…and neither can the editor reading that first page.
9. Know when to say when. Perhaps you’ve done all you can at this time. Perhaps it’s ready to go. Don’t keep polishing it forever. If you can’t think of anything else, start querying. If you think it’s not ready, set it aside, but come back to it later. Someone told me once (the Internet) that the primary hindrance to publication is fear of submission.
I’d add that you should keep a running list of anyone who gives you help, offers their time, or feedback. I believe acknowledgements are important and a good writer isn’t afraid to admit they had a lot of help.
Work on Stormcaller‘s been my second job for the past few months. I’m hoping to finish these revisions in May…and start submitting it. I’m not going to lie, the idea terrifies me. Now I have to sell the book, a completely different process, but it’s the next step in my professional development.
I can’t wait.
PAX East is over! Long live PAX East!
Boston Skyline
As expected, 2.8 bagillion people descended on PAX East and at least half came to visit our awesome booth (see below). Many hadn’t heard of TERA, but everyone who played it loved it. We burned through nearly all of our open beta code cards in two days. Enthusiasm ran high, to say the least.
The TERA booth, ready to rock.
That kind of opportunity is a gift and a treat. I’m always stoked by interacting with fans–that sort of enthusiasm’s contagious. I love listening to their remarks when they catch one of the in-game references (I’m looking at you, Yorik’s Hamlet) or when they realize their choices and skill actually matter.
Mass conversion.
They love it. Hell, so do I.
Yar! There be gamers!
One of my colleagues directed a young man to me. He wanted to get into the game industry, specifically he wanted to write for video games, and asked me how I got in, did I have a degree in game design, etc. I knew this was one of those conversations where I can start to repay all the help I’ve gotten in my relatively young career.
I told him to write. Build up a bit of a portfolio. Degrees show you can stick with something, but words show you can write something. It’s the best indicator of a writer’s performance. I told him to network. All the words in the world wouldn’t help him half as much as knowing a few people. I gave him my card, took his, and told him to hit each company at the show. Try to make one contact, just one. And go to more shows.
I got into the industry because one of my best friend’s best friend needed writers for Aion. We’d met before, but we weren’t bosom buddies or anything. Still, that chance email turned into an interview, then into a contract job, and now I’m doing something I love. Even on cranky days, I still love what I do. This young man asked sharp questions, and never seemed deterred by anything I said.
I maintain that writing is one of the remaining professions where people can get in with a bit of luck, elbow grease, and humility. Apprenticing remains a part of the trade, and the sky’s the limit. I hope this young man succeeds. I hope I can help in some small way. After all the help I’ve received, it’s the least I can do.
