Monday Reviews: Hell on $5 a Day; Sodom All Over Again by Greg Bulmash

It was the title that attracted me to this serial by Greg Bulmash. The description included fantasy, angels, vampires and modern supernatural. Not usually my cup of tea, but I was interested enough to read on.

The story starts with a bang, detailing the death of Ananias, the son of the angel Azazel, masterfully told in a fable-style.  I was engrossed in the tale from the first few paragraphs.  Mr Bulmash writes well, with a lot of focus on character and interaction rather than description, and I appreciated that as a reader.

Techniques to get you writing, Part 1: The psychology of failure

Over the next month I’m going to post a series of articles on how to deal with the problem of actually getting words on the page.  This series was originally posted over at Kiwi Writers as part of their SocNoc Challenge.

This series isn’t aimed at the people who are going to write “one day” or the people who are “waiting for the perfect idea before writing”.  This series is aimed at the writers who really want to write, but who haven’t yet developed the discipline or courage to sit down and blast out that first draft.

And yes, that group includes me, which is why I developed this series in the first place. I’m talking about the people for whom the inner editor is louder than the narrative voice, and the fear is greater than the drive.

Monday Reviews: Alan P. Scott, Cynical Biped

I’m not sure what the ‘P’ stands for; professional, praiseworthy, pretty damn funny, or maybe all three.  I certainly didn’t expect to find such a collection of gems for my first review.  But Cynical Biped is a wonderful collection of stories from a writer with a real talent for storytelling.

All the stories are unpublished I believe, as there’s no evidence to suggest otherwise (or if there is, I couldn’t find it, due to the dreadful menu system – see below).  I chose two stories at random to review.

Order and method

Those of you who have been following my blog for a while know that, when I’m in the writing zone, I can witter on with drivel for days.  My blog turns into a sort of mind-dump of thoughts, because when I’m writing, my brain will not shut up.

While I enjoy the journaling, I’d like to get some sort of theme going with the blog, something a little more directed.  Something that might encourage a random visitor to come back.

A tale of buyer confidence

An author I met online asked me to review his self-published book on my blog.  I planned to politely decline the offer.  I’m an incredibly critical reader and, let’s be honest, self-pubbed books have a bad but well-deserved reputation.  They are generally poorly written, badly edited (if at all) examples from amateur writers who, rather than spend time perfecting their craft and developing their skills, rush off to self-publish after a few rejections, because “nobody understands their work.”

I think I just ran out of words

I sat down to write this post and my brain went ’sput’.  I looked at the page and went ‘er…’

But true to form, butt in chair and write something, and words are appearing on the screen.  Warning!  This is first draft, unedited mind dump.  It will probably be horrible.  Read on at your own peril.

First lines

I engaged in a dialogue with another writer this evening about his opening line, which I found to be contorted and dense, to the point that I had to read it twice to get any sort of rhythm from it.  First lines tend to be such a big deal with writers; there are actually workshops and articles out there on how to write a great first line (check google – you’ll be amazed).

Personally, I think that authors put far too much importance on the first line.  Amy Myers said it best;

Readers are not dumb; they need the first line not only to seize their attention but to be a valid introduction to the novel, rather than an attention-seeking line whose promise is not fulfilled by the text that follows. It needs to indicate the novel that lies ahead in its style, content and the genre.

Boy, that’s a lot for just one line to do.

Drug-addled and woozy, but still writing

I’ve powered through the rewrites; 2,500 words to go before I’m back to 24k.  It feels great.  I know the story is going in the right direction now, and all the characters are behaving beautifully.  That makes writing a pleasure instead of a chore.  I should learn to trust my senses, instead of barrelling on when I feel something is wrong.  I would have saved myself a lot of rewriting.  Oh well!

I wrote the end of a chapter last night where MC1 made a sensible decision and walked away from a potentially fatal situation.  But it’s been running through my foggy, sluggish mind all night, and I think I may have to reverse that decision, and send him in regardless.

I don’t know what will happen.  It may derail my plot significantly.  But on reflection I just can’t play it safe here.  I have to let him have his head, regardless of the consequences.  I don’t know what the outcome will be.

But then that’s half the fun.  See, Joe?  I have found the joy again.  Or maybe I just write better when medicated.  Either way, when the small man goes to bed and the kitchen is tidied, I practically run to the table with my cuppa and a bikkie, ready and willing to write.

Chugging along

This morning, bubs woke up at 4am and refused to go back to sleep for 2 hours.  Uuurgh.  Brain all dribbly.  I thought of so many blog posts I could write, but bugger it.  This is all I can manage today.  I need to marshall my resources for tonight’s writing session.

My mood got a boost though when I went out and bought another 200 sheets of paper for the writing folder.  Very exciting.

I managed 800 words last night, even with the sinus headache from hell.

Your turn!  Give me a status update for your day; good, bad or anything in between.  Feel free to rail and whine, if you need to, or shout and cheer if you can!

Halfway up the mountain

I managed two sessions today, 200 words and 800 words.  A 1000 word day!  I haven’t had that in a long time.

I’ve now replaced over half the words cut, and I still have four scenes to write to get to the story point I was at before.  And that will be the end of the beginning of the story (is that an oxymoron?).

Could it be that I will finally, finally start to write the middle of this narrative?  I was beginning to think this story didn’t have a middle, that it was just a collection of unconnected beginnings from alternate universes, destined never to be completed.

In case you haven’t guessed, I’m feeling pretty good at the moment.  It must be all the codeine.