ieva melgalve » Writing

quick weekly recap

ieva — Sun, 07 Feb 2010 21:22:51 +0000

This week, I didn’t do particularly well writing-wise (two days I didn’t write at all due to death in husbands family and funeral) but on the rest of the days, I fared sufficiently (even today, when I was slacking for the most part of the day and managed to pull my act together rather late). I did almost everything I needed to write and learned a couple of things, both personal and writing-related.
- I got a small notebook for noting small glimpses of ideas, this seems to be working just great. Some ideas come from books I read, some from dreams.
- Got un-afraid from writing slow and literary (however, the simple tricks of raising stakes and sticking with people that matter seem to work here, too).
- While editing, I discovered that I actually make more sense than I thought (namely, some of my scenes that seemed pretty useless plot-wise actually are about critical character development stages. I’ll have to change them but at least now I know why I wrote them in the first place).
- Personally, I found out a marvelous thing: that you can communicate with people way more rewardingly if you open up and give them back relevant information, connect with them on levels that aren’t normally in place within first communication with a stranger. Well, that’s a weird thing to discover when you’re almost 30 (normal folks figure it out at 7 or so), but better late than never.
- Also, I found out that (except today) I waste little or no time at all. That’s sorta cool, but also a bit frustrating (it means that I cannot free up more time for writing, I must focus on doing more in shorter amount of time instead, and use a short-short breaks more effectively).
So all in all, this has been a fulfilled week.

Experimental writing

ieva — Fri, 05 Feb 2010 13:55:38 +0000

The job I’m doing right now with Virgin is clearly experimental, switching between different perceptions of time, focusing on nuances instead of the obvious, and going slow, having no major stuff happening (yet). This is probably what could be named “literary fiction” if I wrote better, or “high literature” in Latvian (actually, Latvians have trouble even accepting commercial literature as “literature”).
This is enormously delightful. This is also scary for me personally, and not just because the market for mediocre literary fiction is incredibly small.
This goes back to my personal history. Namely, I used to write literary fiction a lot. I was told to; all other kinds of literature was called trash. Besides, there was that myth going on that it’s impossible for somebody from a small country with a tiny language to write commercial fiction. And writing literary fiction was fun and it got me recognition that I thought I enjoyed. I published a book where every story proved a point: there was a story where no two sentences were interlinked in any way (not even sharing a protagonist…not that it had any protagonist), a story with no emotions named, a story where the protagonist is a time-traveling, reincarnating ghost, a story that was repeated many times, decomposing in the process, and a couple of surreal stage plays.
Then, at some point, I realized that there are–cannot be–any rules for experimental writing. If I write to prove a literary point, it will not work for most of the people. And I stopped writing because I lacked that point of evaluation. I stopped writing because I wasn’t thinking “outside the box” since I didn’t have a box at all.
After a few years, I started researching, studying and writing genre fiction because it had a box. I learned what “scene” meant and that my protagonist had to have some sort of personality and needs, and obstacles. I chose to write in English primarily because I didn’t know the language well enough to pull fancy literary stunts. I learned a lot, and I still have lots and lots to learn. I survived the shock of the discovery that instead of requesting stories, editors were actually rejecting them.
Right now, I’m trying to combine both features: the box and the outside of the box. I have scenes and protagonists and antagonists, needs and complications. I am re-evaluating the rules I learned and bending them when I think it could make sense.
Am I ready to do that?
I don’t know.
But this is exhilarating, and it’s scary and it’s what I’m doing right now.
My only consolation: that in any case, I’ll learn a lot in the process.

finding the balance

ieva — Thu, 07 Jan 2010 11:56:46 +0000

This year, I started with editing and writing. That was going pretty well until this morning when I woke up…well, I didn’t really wake up, i sorta came to consciousness and realized I can’t get out of my bed without swaying and I can’t look into light and I can’t have five minutes peace from headache. The idea that I had fever was totally wrong; my temperature was running too low. After a bit of research, I concluded it’s exhaustion. Yea, right, I’ve been actually doing something for six days and now I’m exhausted, despite the fact that I sleep, on average, 9 hours a day (long nap after work, then going to sleep and waking up late).
Well, obviously I have to tweak my plans then. Editing stays, writing gets cut down to 100 words a day. It’s not much by any means, I can do it in twenty minutes (the very fact that I need twenty minutes to get 100 words down is an indicator of low batteries), and hopefully I’ll end up not skipping work like I do today and not driving myself mad with “am I going insane” ideas.

There’s very little I’ll do if I burn myself out, is there? So, well, let’s adjust to what my body says is the right amount of work.

self-imposed hiatus

ieva — Thu, 10 Dec 2009 09:00:52 +0000

Yesterday, I practically beat myself over the head to stop trying to write and stop editing. While I do realize that there are situations when a writer must do everything to finish editing or start writing or whatever, this is *not* the situation. I am not under a deadline, I am not broke because I haven’t written anything, I am not going to be less broke if I don’t write anything right now.
The small break gave me an awesome little idea for a story, more of a setting than an idea, actually.
Then, I started panicking about that I don’t have a protagonist, the setting is fairly impossible from the viewpoint of physics (and it’s SF, not fantasy), and I don’t have a conflict (doh, I don’t have a protagonist even!), and I don’t have a proper ending and all that writing thing means juggling too many balls, keeping them in the air while singing a song I barely know.
So I’m going to take another day of rest to let that stuff trickle past, to remember the actual joy of writing, writing not because I know I can do this but because I don’t know, and won’t know anything about my story until I finish it.
After all, I’m writing because I enjoy it, the thrill, the challenge. And if the thrill and challenge are beaten down by fear and anticipation of horrible critiques I can’t deal with (they’re never as horrible as I imagine they will be, but that’s beside the point), it seems that I need to travel further back in the blessed land of self-absorbed amateur who couldn’t care less about the “quality” of the writing, as long as it is enjoyable.

writing vs reading

ieva — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 08:21:43 +0000

Yesterday, I allowed my husband to read the beginning of my NaNo novel (he’s been trained not to mention the glitches in grammar and style) and he said it drew him in (yay!).
Then, I realized why I like writing more than I like reading.
While reading, I always know that the author has somehow solved all the problems and dealt with the plot, better or worse.
While writing, I know that nobody, even the author, knows how this will end and what surprises await.

That’s the excitement and the scare of it.

more catching up

ieva — Sat, 05 Sep 2009 08:34:52 +0000

Yesterday, I did a two days’ work, 1600+ words on Vega. I’m a bit troubled about how my love line is progressing. I feel like writing a mystery or a suspense novel *inside* the love line. Right now, it’s like running back home from a scary forest and even scarier driveaway, locking yourself in, leaning against the door and letting out a big sigh. Right before opening your eyes and seeing what’s inside the house.
I have a vague feeling that’s not how the love lines are usually built.
Also, I solved some plot problems that’d been troubling me and moved forth with some others. By this moment (ended chapter 12 of what seems to be 18-chapter thing) I have roughly outlined the remainder of the novel and feel quite confident that I can finish it, for better or worse.

And on top of that, I wrote a short-short story that, as I realized today, is actually a first scene in a longer story, and possibly a scene I’ll eventually cut because it’s all setup. I adore the piece though, so I’ll let it stay for now. (Sometimes I wonder why the hell do people ever go semi-pro like me with writing. The kicks are in actual writing and loving what you’ve written, not re-reading, editing, cutting and all that gory stuff that sorta makes a writer better… for more edits and cuts and gore.)

that phoenix stuff

ieva — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 07:14:29 +0000

Yesterday, I was too tired to think, let alone write much.
I also figured that if I’m too tired to think, then perhaps this stage is a good one to let my imagination come up with a story idea. That was a cool thing to do, actually, so now I have a setting, a twist, two main characters and a haunting name, The Longest Night On Tundra-U, for a new story.
Today, I decided not to give in to RL and do the best I can on Vega (no planning, no thinking since I don’t have the time to do that) and just pound my daily dosage in. That was a good decision too, as freeing myself to write crap gave me a lot of decent words on the page.
(Yes, I know, there’s the advice floating around to always write crap on first draft, but it doesn’t work for me that well–I can’t stay motivated to write crap day after day if I know I can write non-crap too most of the time.)

So, let’s say that it’s a lesson learned, and thanks for that.

jumping off the cliff

ieva — Tue, 11 Aug 2009 07:30:19 +0000

So.
I did 800+ words yesterday and 600+ words today, thus wrapping up a tiny story line with a splash (in an ice-cold water with severely traumatized child in hands). I am now pondering what on earth do I do now. I see the next sentence and the next, but that’s about it. I want it to end well. I want something *good* happen, for a change. I want some breakthrough, some glimpse of understanding.
I hope that my imaginary reader wants it too, since I think that’s what I’ll most likely give.

Is having an imaginary reader just like having an imaginary friend?
(Perhaps having such a concept in my head, somebody imaginary-friend-real I’m telling a story to, could help me with my writing? Since I have an annoying habit of assuming people know what’s going in my head anyway so the only thing they need is the beautiful method of telling the story, not the story itself.)

battle actions

ieva — Mon, 20 Jul 2009 05:30:00 +0000

Vega got 697 words with a lead for today, so it’s fine. I’m trying not to dwell on how far behind on my weekly goal I was: today, a new week starts, and I hope it’ll be a productive one. Even with the things I must do to keep my RL moving forward… I need to find a way to steel myself against those snide remarks that have been pushing me over the edge recently; I don’t remember being this frustrated, this vulnerable since forever. I don’t deserve this kind of treatment, nobody would. And my husband certainly doesn’t have to suffer the consequences of somebody else hurting me.
So, screw it. Until some point, I can justify this, I can see my own faults, I can try to do my best, I can try to avoid making these little mistakes that somehow all end up being targets of future attacks, I can use it all to be a better person. That point has long been passed, and I’m currently in a place where every little step I take to live up to his expectations is making me a worse person, a stressed-out overachieving bitch with no sense of perspective.
Well, not any more.

Also, I submitted The Final Turn yesterday and I licked Siren up to a point where it’s ready for beta-reading. That’s the good stuff, that’s what I should be proud of and that’s where I should seek and find my self-assurance, not in the eyes of somebody who doesn’t know me, doesn’t respect me and doesn’t give a damn about my feelings (except the obvious “haha, here’s how I can piss her off” attention).

afraid to be wrong

ieva — Thu, 04 Jun 2009 13:04:17 +0000

Due to my troublemaker nature, I got myself in bigger mess than I expected. So here is what I learned (well, besides the fact that I can full well grow up but dropping trouble-making entirely isn’t going to happen any time soon): the thing that I am truly afraid of when poking the anthill is not being demeaned by people who don’t agree with me, and not being seen as ignorant. This is what pretty much comes with the package, and I don’t really mind even if people that I respect deeply seem to lose that respect for me, if they ever had it.
What I am afraid of is being wrong, retrospectively, in my own eyes.

I have to work on that though, since inevitably I will be wrong sometimes, somewhere, and I have to be able to face my mistakes and move on.

In other news, yesterday I expanded a 700-word scene to 1200-word scene and improved my WIP dramatically by adding several new plot points. Consequently, I don’t quite know how that thing will turn out now (since what I changed in my plans changes pretty much everything).
But that’s all right. That’s training. It seems that I *was* wrong before, thinking that I know how the plot goes, and in all likelihood I’ll turn out being wrong again and again as the plot progresses, and the only way I’m going to finish the book would be acknowledging I was wrong countless times and moving on. Every time, moving on.