a little reading goes a long way

I'm a frequent Amazon.com shopper. That "buy with one click" gets me in trouble every time I visit. I usually go in with one book in mind, and come out with several buys. The most recent used book I one-clicked arrived today. As I opened the Art of Creative Writing by Lajos Egri, I noticed that someone else had loved on this book. Several passages are highlighted throughout, keywords have been underlined, and the margins are cluttered with the previous owner's thoughts. Somewhere on page 67, s/he wrote down they were hungry and were craving a taco (probably a man). Such details, in an odd way, warmed my heart. Someone out there, in the big world, has gone before me and down the path of learning a new craft. 

It makes me feel that perhaps learning the craft is a little more accessible than I'd originally thought. I'm not sure if it makes a difference, but I take whatever assurances I can get, almost anything that gives me a positive attitude about settling down and writing. And maybe that makes all the difference. 

I only just started but here are a few lines that struck me as incredibly thoughtful. And yes, the lines I'm presenting, were highlighted. 

On characterization:

"What the writer wants to know is how a real human being—a real three-dimensional character—acts in life. The answer is simplicity itself: like you or me...To this very day we cannot find any living human being who can claim is angelic through and through or rotten to the core...Yes man is complex. The truth is man has the capacity to heroic, superhuman, ready to sacrifice his life for an ideal and with the same ease, cut his best friend's throat. In short: he's good and evil at the same time. It depends on the what inner or outside contradiction activates him to expose himself."

Makes writing a villain a little more interesting doesn't it? I've never thought to to add a "good" quality to my antagonist, either in his demeanor, in his dress, or in his inherent character. Now I'm compelled to, suddenly realizing how much it will add to his presence in the story, by revealing a bittersweet quirk in his nature. Something he keeps hidden, but readily available to the observant eye.

I'm off to write the climatic scene. On page 215 (the farthest I've ever gone). 

Who I'm Writing For

Today, on my way home from work, I made the mistake of telling yet another person about the book that I'm writing. My answer is almost instinctive and compulsive. "What are you up to these days?" Turns into a five-minute unsatisfactory conversation about my writing life. Inevitably, I never get the reaction I'd like, but instead, a short silence then a, "well isn't that something". I then automatically have to justify what I'm doing—because the truth is, that yes I'm unpublished, and until I make it out there somewhere, I feel silly calling myself a writer. So my conviction doesn't ring true, to myself or to the person I'm talking to. 

And now I've just added a whole other person who is waiting for me to produce something. Another person I'm writing for, along with my parents, my 12th grade English teacher, the bulk of my relatives residing in Bolivia, my closest friends, a coworker who works in a cubicle next to mine, habib from the gas station down the street, all the faculty members in a certain English department, the masses in North America, and beyond. 

As I begin to write I picture all these people I'm writing for and I choke. I can't get out a coherent, pretty sentence on paper. All because I just put all this pressure onto my shoulders from an invisible audience. Does every writer have this predicament or am I the crazy one? If I'm not crazy, how does anyone ignore the rampaging blather in one's head? 

The best thing I can do for myself is to remember why I like stories. My best friend has me tell her bed-time stories whenever she crashes at my place (my best friend is twenty-six—how endearing is this?). I've told many (her favorite is Atalanta), and my favorite part of telling them is her reaction. She "oohs", "ahhs" and gasps in all the right moments, and all I've done is recount, in my own words, a simple Greek myth. That's the power behind words right? The ability to move people, to evoke emotions, to make people feel. I love being able to do that, and if I can, I'd love to do it through my words. Through my stories. How hard can this really be?

Turns out, it's a pretty formidable task, even without all the voices in my head.

Today, I'm still working on the emotional arc of my main character. I'm writing a Young Adult fantasy book, and though I'd love to say more–I shouldn't. I'll only tell you the title of the book, mostly because I want to personalize "novel", so when I write, I'm working on The Mapmaker of Merivale, you'll know what I'm talking about. 

Thanks for reading.

the first ever

Technically that's not true. I have blogged before, but it's been years. And as I recall, a lot of it was mostly rubbish. Anyway. I decided to blog as a means to practice before I actually start writing in the novel. You know when a photographer is starting out his session, he starts clicking away—but then ends up throwing out the first five pictures? The object of his shooting hadn't warmed up yet, in fact he hasn't warmed up yet either. 

Same thing. These blogs are meant to get me warmed up. In the off chance that anyone will actually read any of this, I'll try to keep my warm up sessions interesting. I confess that mostly all of it will be centered around the novel, what I'm working on, what I should be working on, but haven't yet due to explicable reasons like laziness or fear of rejection. Blah, blah. I already feel like I'm rambling.

To the point then. I am on page 212 of the novel, having started in the last days of August. I'm almost at the climatic scene, or I would be, if it weren't for the fact that this scene hasn't turned out to be climatic. I am missing something here. And unfortunately this "missing" entity needs to show up at some point or else this scene will be positively frightful.

I'm also job hunting. Have I mentioned this yet? Yes, like every second person in this country I am looking for means to support myself. I graduated from the University of Central Florida with degrees in Creative Writing and History and am presently flummoxed as to what I'm supposed to do.

I used to live in New York when I was 21. Back when I was immature and naive, hopelessly believing there was some spot for me in the big wide world of publishing. Four years later, guess I'm still those same things, as I've somehow retained a hope that maybe there is this little vacancy, at either a literary agency or publishing house that will want my talents. Providing I have them, talent that is.

Oh yes, and I'd love to be a storyteller.

I'm wondering if there is anything else I could possibly include before I write. Amazing how I think about writing all day, but when the time comes I somehow find ways of killing that special time. Like job hunting (admittedly this is a real necessity) or playing on facebook, or even more inane, trying to figure out how'd I look as a cartoon character.

Yeah, I guess it's time. Today I'm working on my character's emotional arcs and skipping the climatic scene for now. I'm hoping the more depth I include before that scene, the truer it will read once I write it.

Anyway, can't hurt to try.