Striving for Greatness

Double-spaced, left-justified, 12 pt. font, MLA style, 

FIVE pages!

IF YOU CAN EXPLAIN the fall of Rome in three pages, tack on an extra two pages of fluff, so you can get an A. Ten pages about Einstein's theory of relativity? You'd better cut it down to five or face Dr. So-and-so's paper shredder. 

Remember writing essays like that? As a student I never had a problem with the  issue of making my work reader-friendly, but I did have a problem with the length requirement. No matter the class, the teacher always dictated a required page count which students dared not adjust to fit their thesis or writing style.

"Sages" also tout average word counts for books, factoring in the intended audience, the genre, the marketability, the author's reputation/experience, the production cost, etc. I remember the nausea I felt after reading that the average word count for a work of fiction is in the neighborhood of 80,000 to 100,000 words. My work of historical fiction, Dead Bird in the Weeds, is nearly twice the "maximum" length. I've asked myself many times if I should have cut 80,000 words in order to "fit in." The answer is always "no," despite the fact that many proclaim that a writer who doesn't stick to the rules is either a bad writer or doesn't understand or care about marketability.

Although I'm confident about my work, this length obsession haunts me daily. Regardless of what I'm writing, I constantly check the page count and the word count as if the work's merit rests in the hands of a magic number. At times it has driven me to the point of adding extra paragraphs or scenes simply because the chapter didn't look long enough. That's nothing more than commercialism, and unless you're considering approaching traditional publishers or agents who are looking to market the latest fad, it has no place in serious fiction.

Despite my conviction, it's hard to break away from the word-count frenzy. Before I start a work, I say to myself, "X (the work) is going to be approximately Y number of words (because of either the genre or complexity of the subject), so plan on X to be Z number of pages." To give you an idea of how instinctive this behavior is, read the following conversation I had earlier this week with a friend of mine:

FRIEND.  I really like this last chapter. You're probably about, what, halfway through this book, aren't you? [Keep in mind that this person knows most of the plot.]

ME.  No, I've only written about one-third of it. [Note that I've been struggling with the length of this book to the point that I've sat for hours staring at the computer while trying to think of a way to stretch it out].

FRIEND.  Oh, really?

ME.  Yeah, this book is going to be about 100,000 words.

FRIEND.  How can you know that when you haven't finished it?

Good point. How can you know the length of a work before it's finished? The answer is simple: You can't! There is no magic word count or page count. A work is as long as it needs to be, no more, no less. Because of this realization, I have now accepted the fact that my book may only be half of what I had originally planned. And do you know what? Nothing is wrong with that.

Another plus is that the pressure is gone. The words are flowing—faster than before—and I'm more confident about what I'm writing. I'm not being sidetracked by the word-count calculator and I've stopped looking at the page count.

So, to all those professors and sages touting average word counts for average essays, books, etc., I have one thing to say, "Sorry, I have no desire to fit into a mold so I can be 'average.'"

I'm striving for greatness.

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As always, I love to hear from you.

If you’re in the cyber-neighborhood, drop me a line.

In the meantime, keep writing, reading, and smiling.
It’s contagious.

The Golden Flower of Inspiration

THE MAPLE TREES on the farm are donning their fall colors and the garden on the edge of the south field is preparing to hibernate. Before tucking the garden in for a long winter's nap, I grabbed my gardening shears and harvested the spaghetti squash on the west end. As I plodded through a tangle of dried leaves and vines, I stumbled upon an amazing find: one large yellow squash flower.

This golden miracle managed to grow beneath several inches of rotting plant matter despite the chilly temperatures and the lateness of the year. Nature had found a way to persevere in the most illogical and improbable of circumstances.

Writing is like that, too. After the birth—or flowering—of an idea and the construction of paragraphs begins, the madness of creating, writing, and editing can sometimes smother motivation and creativity. As a result, the easy way out—desertion—often tempts the writer before the piece has reached maturity.

What happens next? The writer throws out the idea and waits impatiently for another epiphany that may or may not appear. If and when it does, the writer is often duped into another false start and another great idea hits the compost heap.

We can blame this endless cycle on many things: frustration, laziness, or disgust, but rather than giving up on our work and ourselves, we need to meet the problem head-on.  Whether we're writing—or reading—a short poem or a lengthy novel, we need to realize and appreciate the great amount of effort and time it takes to create a work of art. 

When you're overwhelmed and ready to give in, take a moment to clear away the debris so you don't lose sight of that golden flower of inspiration.

***

As always, I love to hear from you.

If you’re in the cyber-neighborhood, drop me a line.

In the meantime, keep writing, reading, and smiling.
It’s contagious.

Seanachaí's News

On the last Sunday of each month, I compile "Seanachaí's News," a status report that assesses my work during the current month and also formulates my plans for the upcoming months. It will also give you a peek at my works in progress.

My Work During the Current Month

1. Do you enjoy the simplicity and beauty of haiku? Don't miss Part IV of  my continuing series, "Murmuring That Creeps into the Life of a Wandering Soul."
2. Read about a haunted woman's brave attempt to face the future in my latest short-short, "I Saw You."
3. Are you a writer or artist looking for great software? Check out these five must-have free programs!

 

My Plans for the Upcoming Months

1. If you follow me on Twitter, you know that I've been working diligently on my new book. What you may not know is that you've already read the first page. Yes, really. Read the first page of my new novel here!
2. Don't forget, all of my short stories and poetry are now available at Scribd. You can download my work and subscribe to my feed by following this link. 

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As always, I love to hear from you.

If you’re in the cyber-neighborhood, drop me a line.

In the meantime, keep writing, reading, and smiling.
It’s contagious.

Five Must-Have Free Programs

How much money did you spend on that program?

None.

Huh?

None!

Many people ask me about the programs I use in my writing and artistic endeavors. As a starving artist, I generally shy away from the expensive software and utilize free programs. On the average, most are as good as or come in a close second to the big blockbuster software. Not only that, but I don't have to cut off an appendage in order to achieve success.

Five Must-Have Free Programs

1. OpenOffice  In my opinion, this is the best word processing program you'll find among open-source and traditional software. Page layout is advanced and exports include .pdf format, among others. The only major cons I've found are the inability to export to PDF/X and the limitations of the full-justification feature (line rather than paragraph execution). OpenOffice also includes five other popular programs that rival major competitors' spreadsheet, slide, and database creators. 

2. GIMP  Why would anyone ever need another art program after using GIMP? I have no idea! After downloading GIMP several years ago, I've never used another art program. EVER. OK, I've used the art program mentioned later in this countdown, but that's all! This program has a lot of goodies, including advanced layering, brushes, animation, and filters. Not only that, but creative people are always writing new scripts to improve the functionality. The only con I've found is that the program will not export images to the .pdf format, hence my usage of Inkscape.

3. Inkscape  This program is nice because it will convert popular image extensions to the .pdf format. Although it does have filters, easy-to-execute line creation, and a nice layout, I prefer GIMP for all of my drawing and photo editing needs.

4. Storybook  (Link removed—program no longer available) I discovered this program a couple of weeks ago and have thrown away all of my handwritten notes and abandoned my offline database for novel writing. Yeah, it's that great. You can create character descriptions and location descriptions. You can create and manage chapters and scenes and add characters and locations to each. Time lines of chapters and scenes are generated (great for mysteries) and characters' ages are automatically calculated (helpful if you're writing a saga). I'm only skimming the surface of this program, folks; my advice is to check it out before you write another word. If you're a highly organized writer, you're going to love it!

5. Font Xplorer  This is relatively minor, I know, but if you're a writer who has about a million fonts on your hard drive, a font viewer is going to make your life much easier. Installation is easy and the reward is having all of your fonts available for viewing in one location. When I download fonts, I save them by individual author in a font folder. Then I can view the fonts and their character maps in Font Xplorer by author, character set, whatever.

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Why are you still here? Download these free programs. Now!

***

As always, I love to hear from you.

If you’re in the cyber-neighborhood, drop me a line.

In the meantime, keep writing, reading, and smiling.
It’s contagious.

I Saw You

THE NONFICTION

A woman in an old blue T-shirt throws open a screen door and glares at a vulture gliding in the late afternoon sky. "There's nothing dead around here but my brain," she screeches. The door slams and the carrion eater decides to hang around for handouts of human brain and sanity.

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As you may have guessed, the scene above did in fact happen this week. The strain of working on my new book has exhausted my word tank and my creativity. With that said, I'll leave you with the short-short I wrote this week for Friday Flash. Enjoy!

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THE FICTION 

I Saw You

11/1/08  Just a Tired Old Town

I  SAW YOU.

   I was driving through the old part of town when I was caught by the light next to the apartments where we used to live. Mom was shielding her eyes from the afternoon sun and I was fiddling with the rearview mirror to check on— My hand slid from the mirror. I saw you sitting behind me in a black pickup truck with narrowed eyes and a tilted head.

   Was it because of the sun or because you saw me, too? 

   A gentle breeze blew through the crack in your window and ruffled your hair. You still wear it a little long, but that’s OK. I always liked it that way. I closed my eyes and imagined I was running my fingers through those unruly brown curls. Your lips were determined but gentle and your eyes were the color of . . . the color of. . . . No, it’s no use. I may not remember the color of your eyes, but I know they gleamed when you held me close.

   I’m such a fool. I thought I was over you.

   Is it possible to forget someone who used to make me laugh in the cold winter wind and smile at a sink full of dirty dishes? How can I not remember those late nights on the patio, gazing at no-name stars and shaking my head at crazy wishes? Remember how we used to dance in the elevators between floors and wake each other up in the blue hours of dawn to talk about how we met on the corner at the old bookstore? 

   That old brick building is gone now and my heart is breaking in two.

   Did you leave because of the money? I never made you pay for anything I wanted. I had a job. Was it getting too serious? Was it because you weren’t having fun anymore? You warned me before I moved in that we were supposed to have fun. The last words you said to me were, “Baby–” No, wait, I want to make sure I remember this right. You said, “Angel, I’m bored. I’m going out with the guys.” I waited up till three and for breakfast I had stale crackers and old tea. I saved all the furniture and finished out the rest of the lease, hoping you would come back to me.

   I opened my eyes and glanced at the mirror one last time. A woman with long black hair rested her head on your shoulder like I used to do. 

   The light changed and I drove Mom and our daughter home. She’s two.

   You didn’t know about her, did you?

***

As always, I love to hear from you.

If you’re in the cyber-neighborhood, drop me a line.

In the meantime, keep writing, reading, and smiling.
It’s contagious.