The shape of names

For me, personal names (first, middle, and last) actually form a shape in my mind. I rely on this quirk of synethesia when coming up with character names for my stories. If the name feels jagged or frayed to me then it will likely sit uneasily with readers. I don’t necessarily throw these names away, as they can be good for identifying antagonists. But if it feels smooth, or round like a ball – easy to roll off the tongue – then readers are more likely to remember them and identify them as the protagonist without having to outright address those issues.

I think about my own name and how I might be perceived by others, because I’m certain I’m not the only one who has this quirk. When said quickly it sounds like my name is Sharon Negan, and people have often made this mistake. I am actually Sharon Egan. Lately I have found myself dropping my middle name into the equation for clarity and because I have come to like the shape of it. Sharon Marie Egan. It’s like a gently undulating plain, the kind I used to romp around as a child. What shape does your name have and how to do you decide on the shapes of your character’s names?

Contingency plans: Part 2

I’m a few chapters into the novel I was talking about in my last post. It seems I can relax. There are some elements that are similar with mine, but the characters, setting, themes and ultimately the style is very different. Still, there’s nothing like a threat to your creative integrity to get you back on the writing horse. I guess this is what I needed to wake me up.

Contingency plans and the gravity of words

This post is coming to you from the as yet unfinished Bibliotopia via a nearly geriatric, (very) slow laptop. It is simply too hot upstairs where my primary computer is currently located and this room feels so right just now. Even my pooch prefers the coolness of the ground floor.

I went shopping at my favourite bookstore today. It is not uncommon for me to be there, nor is it uncommon for me to search the stacks, new and old, for novels that might resemble my own. I love reading, but I also like to keep abreast of what others are writing, what’s popular and what’s becoming cliché so I can avoid writing those. I have always had an aversion to the common or popular and so have, until recently, actively avoided reading (and writing) such fiction. My own library consists largely of unique or less well-known titles, of which I am proud, but about two years ago I decided to read from the “best-seller” and prize-winning lists to see what the fuss was all about. About 50% of the time I agree with the decisions of the judges; the other half the time I have found myself either indifferent or, in more than one case, outraged, by what I read. As a reader and a writer I believe in celebrating the beauty of human languages, and I am frequently dismayed by popular writers’ inability to capture that beauty in their own work. In these cases, too much emphasis has been given to plot or to themes and structure and there is a feeling that the book has been written in a hurry, or worse, to appeal to the skimmers and skippers of the reading community. I am a deliberate reader, which means I read closely and slowly, and I believe that if I have to skim any single passage or sentence to get to the good bits, then it is not a well-written book. For me to enjoy a novel, every word, every passage must be counted among the good bits. In my opinion, not enough attention is paid in many mass-published works to the choice of words, the construction and organisation of sentences and paragraphs and to the avoidance of clichés. Thus they are not unique and do not appeal to my literary mind. I fear that fiction has become more and more about quick-selling, dramatically-themed stories that will appeal to busy Generation Y’ers who have been taught to speed-read for the sake of expediency and less about celebrating the beauty of the language in which it is written. The latter is a skill that requires a lifetime of learning and an appreciation for the nuances of each syllable, the gravity of individual words and the meanings they actuate in the sentences for which they are chosen. Every word is a choice and affects the outcome of the whole, so words are not simply a base from which to start a sentence – every word has meaning.

Now you know the truth: I am a fussy reader, an old fashioned kind of girl with discriminating tastes. In essence I write what I would like to read. So today as I was browsing the stacks I was looking for examples of novels that achieve that delicate balance between a unique plot and good manipulation of grammar and vocabulary. I was feeling pretty self-satisfied that I still hadn’t found a book that mirrored my own masterpiece in the making: the concept is unique and the language is engaging . . . I think you can guess where this is going . . . and then I saw it: every novelists worst nightmare. At a quick glance it looks like any other book in the new release section and had my mind not been trained for the keywords contained in the books title I would have missed it. As soon as I read the title my heart tumbled into my belly. I cautioned my heart to be calm, that it was infinitely unlikely this book matched mine in premise and its plot. With a cautious hand I took the book off the shelf, drew in one fortifying breath and flipped the book to the back cover. By the third line my heart sank a little further, by the fourth line the fortifying breath was released in a slow sigh. Those keywords matched closely the ones I’d used to describe my own novel. I knew I had to buy this book to read it, because it appealed to me as a writer and because I had to know if this writer had written my book. If I was in a better mood I’d say this could be a case of synchronicity, but I’m not so I won’t.

I have yet to read this book and decide how much it resembles my unwritten work, but a preliminary perusing tells me that it does and it doesn’t and that there is still a large window for my own concept. Certain elements do not match so there is hope. But, if it turns out that mine would mirror this new novel too much I have a contingency plan. Every concept, every piece I write, has a contingency plan. There’s a good reason for this: too frequently in my “career” as a writer I have been dogged with an almost premonitory imagination. I can think of half a dozen instances where I have started working on, or completed, an extensive piece whose concept has been neither popular nor very much explored, only to find the market flooded several months later with the same genre or theme. By no means am I paranoid and think that some crafty wordsmith out there is tapping into my brain, stealing my ideas and beating me to the finish line. Often it can be as simple as synchronicity where causally unrelated events occur together in a meaningful way. More often it is related to the fact that there are so many writers across the globe, living in the 21st century, facing the same obstacles and issues, that your ideas are bound to intersect eventually with one or more other writers. This is the way that culture moves. This is why I have my contingency plan – my plan B, which I will implement in cases of emergency.

Do you have any experiences with this phenomena?

Prudence

It’s been hot for about a week now, so progress on the library is slow. Paint doesn’t set in this heat and this writer refuses to work in this kind of weather. It’s been a week where I wish I believed in air conditioners, but alas I cannot justify it in my heart – the planet is far more delicate than my biology, and humanity, after all, is made strong, we are made to endure. And so, most of the work on the library and in the yard is done early in the morning or late afternoon and sometimes well into the witching hour. At times it’s been frustrating that I cannot speed up the process. I guess I’m impatient to have my new writing space. Then, yesterday, while attending a baby shower for a friend thinking that I should be at home either writing, or attending to the million things left to do on the library before its grand opening in two weeks, I had a small, but overdue epiphany.  I watched the mother-to-be, her hands resting across her plump belly, smiling and enjoying the moment, content in the here and now and I thought if it takes me five years to write this blessed book, so be it. Imagination cannot be rushed. As Heather (from Heather Conroy’s Verbal Report) said recently , “you are exactly where you’re meant to be”. This is where Prudence comes in, the third commandment of my 10 commandments of writing. Prudence is not just knowing when not to write; a prudent writer knows the goods are already here, stored in the recesses of the mind, awaiting their summons. All things in good time.

Don’t spoil the end

A great vacation, a tasty cake, a good book, the writing of a good book, the big project – whatever the event there comes a time when it must end. As I approach the conclusion of the Bibliotopia project I am left feeling somewhat anxious. I have loved the process of putting together my library and its garden – of what will become my new writing space. Choosing doors, colours, decor and finding the ambiance that I know I need there, has lifted my spirits and given me a fresh sense of purpose that was much needed. Though there is much physical labour to do on my part, the end is in sight and I will be installed in the library within the next three weeks. Which means I will have no excuse but to buckle down and write. Specifically I have to sit down and write the chapters of the novel. But this project, like the novel, has to culminate in order to be able to progress to the next step of life. It is important that I don’t spoil the last days of this project by attending to it as if I was attending a wake. It is the same with writing projects. For the majority of the writing of a piece the writer is able to live in the moment, to craft each word, to address sentences and paragraphs, plots and themes as if they were the only things that mattered, to love the experience of visualising the words, of having them manifest in the mind and transposing them onto the page. But as we approach the end the experience becomes twisted with anxiety. Feelings of disappointment and regret take over where there was once a feeling of unbroken satisfaction. As writers who care about our readers, we must urge ourselves put aside that anticipation and maintain that sense of now. Too many novels drift into a sort of incongruity where the end does not fit the preceding narrative. I suspect this happens either because the author is bored, or because the author knows the book must end and wishes to avoid the burden of ending. My sister once said to me “write as if no one is watching”. I would like to add to write as if there is no end.

It’s my job

Sad puppy dog eyes

Don’t be fooled by those eyes. This is the face of a tyrant.

It’s very hard to do much of anything when there is a puppy at my feet with a bucket on his head. It’s driving everyone crazy, most especially him, because the cone that stops him chewing on his stitches also stops him from entering a room in an eloquent and unobtrusive fashion – which is hard for a six month old puppy to do at the best of times. His banging and clashing jars the brain of anyone within earshot and makes it difficult to even contemplate working. And then there is a issue of him tail-gating. He likes to trot behind us, but when he has this bucket on his head all you can feel is the scrap of plastic against the back of your knees as he tries to keep up or get closer. Punishment for making him undergo this humiliation?

In his frustration Ernie has destroyed a chux cloth, his bed, some paper that I left carelessly in reach, several Christmas beetles, one rhinoceros beetle, a couple of pieces of a jigsaw puzzle I was working on, the edges of his bucket, the lattice work on the back veranda and very nearly everyone’s patience. My moments of working at the computer are haphazard and ephemeral. I constantly have to get up and check his whereabouts, check whether what he’s destroying is needed or wanted and check his stitches to make sure he hasn’t burst them in his careless frolicking around the living room. His presence is larger than any character’s presence at the moment, which says more to me about my enthusiasm than it does about this little monster called Ernie.

Every writer must face this obstacle when writing a lengthy piece such as a novel: call it boredom, restlessness or even apathy, when it hits it’s always a surprise. Six months ago you had this great idea for a story. You knew you could fill four hundred pages with gripping storytelling, authentic dialogue and a conclusion that would satisfy everyone. You couldn’t wait to get started and spent every waking moment thinking on it. Now any excuse is good enough to divert your attention: the dog, the dishes, lunch with friends, sleep, that movie everyone is talking about. What happened to that enthusiasm? Were you wrong about this story? If you’ve lost interest half way through then readers surely will too, since it will show in your work. For me, the best antidote to this dilemma is to go back and revisit my intentions for this particular story, the original idea and find what sparked my interest in the first place. Why did I want to write this in the first place? What did I like about the story and why did I have to tell it? Answering these questions requires rereading the first clumsy notes, and even remembering the moment when the spark first appeared. From this I can discern where I went wrong, why the spark has waned. For me it is a very simple case of losing faith in the original concept, which has caused me at times to contemplate abandoning the book all together. Fortunately I am a tenacious being; I won’t give up on something I have believed in so fervently for so long. The diversions will come and go, but the project must be done. It’s my job.

Puppies, hot tea and confidence

My six month old puppy had surgery two days ago and requires constant babysitting. He wants to run, jump and play, as they do, but is under strict rest for two weeks until the stitches are removed. Easier said than done. Just now he spilled a hot cup of tea on himself and my desk, ruining a few hours of work and probably causing himself some discomfort – though he only seemed to notice for a couple of seconds. But I’m not upset, or even mildly annoyed. Puppies are puppies, and besides, I have backups of everything. I also have an uncanny ability for redrafting from scratch, and often the second product is even better than the first. In my university days, when technology was far less reliable, I’d lose thousands of words on the computer and have to rewrite an entire essay from my scribbled notes, and mostly memory. But when I did, I always got good marks. I guess the key is to know your subject. This is why I’m a slow starter – I want to know as much about a subject as I can before committing to a word count. The more you know, the more confidence you’ll have in your project. The more confidence you have, the more credible you will be with your readers. There’s nothing worse than a sloppily researched piece – whether it is a narrative, a short story or an entire novel.  Even the most fantastic fiction requires a lot of research.

Story prompts: Whose shoes?

Something has always bothered me in my wanderings through this world: every time I see an abandoned pair of shoes, or worse a single shoe, on the side of the road, it bothers me for hours thereafter. If it’s a single shoe images of a one-shoed lad, hppping home, go through my mind  - why did he lose one shoe and not two? What happened to him that he did not notice one shoe missing? I actually know the answer to this riddle, at least 90% of the time – my sister was a paramedic and told me the answer – but I’ll leave that to the reader to uncover. As for the pair of Reebok’s or Dunlop’s tied together by the laces, each foot pointing in opposing directions, the mind boggles . . . Any ideas?

Craft evolution

Of all the books I read as a child, one stands out above all others: Maurice Gee’s The halfmen of O. This a story of a Susan, who, with her cousin Nick, becomes trapped in the world of O. She becomes involved in a quest to restore balance to the world and save it from the evil Halfmen. I read it when I was about eleven and I’ve never forgotten it. Today this book has reminded me of how much I can’t live without my craft, of what it really means to me.

Gee is a New Zealand writer, but apparently his books have a far reach, in fact, I’ve just learned The halfmen of O is to be adapted into a movie. I am at once excited and apprehensive about this. Gee’s writing has stayed with me for more than two and half decades. He was the first author whose writing style I remember really appreciating in equal proportions to the plot. Even as young as I was, I could see the merit in Gee’s style. I wanted to emulate him so much that I wrote several stories that mimicked the book. The imagery of his words and the uniqueness of his style created an atmosphere I easily became lost in. These days I’m less inclined to emulate other authors, since I’ve found the joy of creating my own style. It is in constant evolution. This is one of the best things about writing, and being a writer – the constant evolution of the craft.

The edge of the writer’s universe

I’d like to say I’ve been really busy, too busy for much writing, but that would be an exaggeration of epic proportions. In truth, I’ve been a slothful writer. I have no excuse other than this happens every so often. Every time it does I tell myself it’s okay, it’s only temporary. Mostly I believe that, but a small part of me panics and wonders if this is it – have I come to the edge of my writing universe? In short, no. Inspiration, like the universe, is infinite if you know how to traverse it. The impulse to write, on the other hand, is transitory. I love to write – most of the time. It is a difficult thing to accept this about myself, but no amount of insisting that I love it all the time will work. No human is immune to this truth either. Anyone who loves their job or art will agree that it is impossible to love it in every moment. How do you feel about your craft?