I'm having a bit of a crisis of confidence. After attending the Writers Digest conference this past weekend and thinking about the amount of time, money, and effort that I'm going to be spending on my first story, I have to give some serious thought to whether Ivan is worth it.
I'm going to say, for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month, November), that yes, Ivan is worth the effort. I might get a lot wrong and he might never see the light of day, but I think it's still worth it to at least put Ivan at the center of my 50,000 word goal for November and sort out what I need to work on more carefully as I polish him up in 2013.
Here are a couple of things that need to be worked out:
1. The historical Ivan is not a terribly sympathetic character. But it's going to be one slog of a novel if I can't find a chink in his armor of awfulness that makes somebody like something about him (that somebody being me).
2. I've got to find some humor somewhere, because a) I don't want to get too hung up on myself and b) Ivan is so awful that if I can't find a way to lighten the whole thing up it's going to read too much like a Russian novel -- and I hate Russian novels.
3. Supporting cast. This is actually only an obstacle to my starting writing before November 1st, because I've got to take the time to figure out who the supporting cast is and write them all out, figure out more of a plot arc than what I've got, etc. I need to decide if I'm going to use The Plot Whisperer Workbook or 30 Days to your Novel or The Nighttime Novelist to frame my to-do list, but clearly I'm going to need some outside help on planning the thing if I'm going to write 50,000 words in a 30 day month that includes Thanksgiving.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Incubation
From The Daily Writer. This is a long term assignment about revision. Not where I need to be.
I have 16 pages/4200 words of Ivan written at this time. Every time I put him down I have a hard time taking him back up again. I have to write EVERY SINGLE MORNING in order ot have more productive days. My consistency rate is not where I want it to be at the moment.
But it's not just Ivan I'm struggling with; I am having a hard time buckling down to everything today. I'm frustrated at how much work I have to do and how far behind I am in all the pockets of my life, but I'm having a difficult time focusing on making those things right. I know what to do next on Ivan -- it's part revision (moving that bit of the story out of the first draft into its proper place in the current draft) and then walk him down the street while he talks to Rasputin. I need to get them to reveal themselves to one another and to move them along 1917 London, which I don't know nearly well enough, until they get down to Nell and the East End. And somehow Rasputin has to make Ivan angry enough, and be unusable enough, to make Ivan OK with killing Rasputin. But before that happens I have to raise the stakes some... This is tricky. Sigh.
Well, the good news is how much I got done, and that figuring out the next bits is just a matter of buckling down. But I also have to deal with the IndieGoGo bit, Duncan's recipe book, my regular blog post, order my business cards (yikes!!) put together my work binder so I'm a little better organized, update the WOM financials... I wasn't kidding when I said I can be fit & thin OR I can be productive but probably not both. I actually had the alarm set for 6:00 this morning, and my clothes set out and everything, and then I was too soundly asleep to get up. Crazy dreams I've been having...
I have 16 pages/4200 words of Ivan written at this time. Every time I put him down I have a hard time taking him back up again. I have to write EVERY SINGLE MORNING in order ot have more productive days. My consistency rate is not where I want it to be at the moment.
But it's not just Ivan I'm struggling with; I am having a hard time buckling down to everything today. I'm frustrated at how much work I have to do and how far behind I am in all the pockets of my life, but I'm having a difficult time focusing on making those things right. I know what to do next on Ivan -- it's part revision (moving that bit of the story out of the first draft into its proper place in the current draft) and then walk him down the street while he talks to Rasputin. I need to get them to reveal themselves to one another and to move them along 1917 London, which I don't know nearly well enough, until they get down to Nell and the East End. And somehow Rasputin has to make Ivan angry enough, and be unusable enough, to make Ivan OK with killing Rasputin. But before that happens I have to raise the stakes some... This is tricky. Sigh.
Well, the good news is how much I got done, and that figuring out the next bits is just a matter of buckling down. But I also have to deal with the IndieGoGo bit, Duncan's recipe book, my regular blog post, order my business cards (yikes!!) put together my work binder so I'm a little better organized, update the WOM financials... I wasn't kidding when I said I can be fit & thin OR I can be productive but probably not both. I actually had the alarm set for 6:00 this morning, and my clothes set out and everything, and then I was too soundly asleep to get up. Crazy dreams I've been having...
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Masked Woman in a Wheelchair
The assignment from The Daily Writer is to write about all the different masks I wear in my different life roles, or to write a short story about a man who wears a mask as a woman to a Halloween party.
I don't want to do either of those assignments.
The problem I'm having today is how to reconcile the serial killer-czar Ivan the Terrible with the decrepit, non-functioning crazy guy in Darker Jewels by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro, with the guy who has been a vampire for 330 years and trying to get his throne back (which would incidentally save Russia from the Bolsheviks but that's not really his concern).
So how do I do that? Who is this guy I've created?
Or am I worrying too much about details that no one will ever appreciate but me? I do not have a tribe that can answer that question for me. Need to get on that.
So... who is this crazy Ivan? How does he work in my story?
The Troyat biography made it pretty clear that he was a coward and a criminal, not a fighter. He liked the sound of his own voice (need to make my story reflect that much more clearly). He wasn't much of a fighter -- unlike Henry VIII who loved to joust and show his manliness. He was cool with causing pain from an early age, but not at all cool with feeling it. He was a self-serving religious fanatic. He was a hothead. He had no sense of proportion. He was intelligent but not wise. He was paranoid. He was short-sighted.
So in my story, Ivan has acted in character in fishing Rasputin out of the river and reviving him to use him as a tool. It is in character for him to think he can take the throne back and to have no concept of the people in Russia or the forces moving it at that time. It is in character for him to think he can bully Rasputin into doing whatever he wants just because he is czar. It is in character for him to have no concept that Rasputin might not believe that he was the czar, or to care about what he used to be.
Is it in character for him to join the Savile club? I think so -- I think he would have seen the English club, generally, as a sort of sanctuary for influential Englishmen. He would not have needed to take this course in life, but there are lots of instances where he beat a "strategic retreat." I think he would have a certain contempt for the club but he would have recognized its advantages, and 330 years of cobbling together survival tactics as a vampire would change his value system slightly. It beats living in a cave, and I think it would beat living in Liverpool as far as he is concerned, too.
Also in coming to London I think Ivan is sort of acting on that agreement he tried to get Elizabeth to come to (she did eventually offer a one-sided version of it that made him mad) so that's totally reasonable.
Ivan has never done a brave or difficult thing in all his days. Saving Rasputin is his greatest achievement, partly because it was hard and required some effort, partly because he did it entirely on his own; none of the rest of his efforts ever required that amount of organized thought. So it's all downhill for Ivan from there.
Which begs the question: In a power struggle between Ivan and Rasputin, who will win? My story as it stands requires that Ivan wins. But there is no reason to assume he would. It could easily be Rasputin.
Back to the drawing board.
I don't want to do either of those assignments.
The problem I'm having today is how to reconcile the serial killer-czar Ivan the Terrible with the decrepit, non-functioning crazy guy in Darker Jewels by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro, with the guy who has been a vampire for 330 years and trying to get his throne back (which would incidentally save Russia from the Bolsheviks but that's not really his concern).
So how do I do that? Who is this guy I've created?
Or am I worrying too much about details that no one will ever appreciate but me? I do not have a tribe that can answer that question for me. Need to get on that.
So... who is this crazy Ivan? How does he work in my story?
The Troyat biography made it pretty clear that he was a coward and a criminal, not a fighter. He liked the sound of his own voice (need to make my story reflect that much more clearly). He wasn't much of a fighter -- unlike Henry VIII who loved to joust and show his manliness. He was cool with causing pain from an early age, but not at all cool with feeling it. He was a self-serving religious fanatic. He was a hothead. He had no sense of proportion. He was intelligent but not wise. He was paranoid. He was short-sighted.
So in my story, Ivan has acted in character in fishing Rasputin out of the river and reviving him to use him as a tool. It is in character for him to think he can take the throne back and to have no concept of the people in Russia or the forces moving it at that time. It is in character for him to think he can bully Rasputin into doing whatever he wants just because he is czar. It is in character for him to have no concept that Rasputin might not believe that he was the czar, or to care about what he used to be.
Is it in character for him to join the Savile club? I think so -- I think he would have seen the English club, generally, as a sort of sanctuary for influential Englishmen. He would not have needed to take this course in life, but there are lots of instances where he beat a "strategic retreat." I think he would have a certain contempt for the club but he would have recognized its advantages, and 330 years of cobbling together survival tactics as a vampire would change his value system slightly. It beats living in a cave, and I think it would beat living in Liverpool as far as he is concerned, too.
Also in coming to London I think Ivan is sort of acting on that agreement he tried to get Elizabeth to come to (she did eventually offer a one-sided version of it that made him mad) so that's totally reasonable.
Ivan has never done a brave or difficult thing in all his days. Saving Rasputin is his greatest achievement, partly because it was hard and required some effort, partly because he did it entirely on his own; none of the rest of his efforts ever required that amount of organized thought. So it's all downhill for Ivan from there.
Which begs the question: In a power struggle between Ivan and Rasputin, who will win? My story as it stands requires that Ivan wins. But there is no reason to assume he would. It could easily be Rasputin.
Back to the drawing board.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Treadmill Journal for September 25, 2012
Have 3300 words typed in. It's rougher than I realized; the whole time I was typing it in I was alternating between "Oh, that's pretty good" and "Oh, that's pretty rough."
So here's the plan for tomorrow: Fill it in the rest of the way, or as much as possible. I'm looking to triple it, roughly. The tricky thing will be figuring out how much explanation about Rasputin and Ivan to put in, and how much to just let them be themselves and hope it all fleshes out in the serial.
Also, need to play up Ivan's desire to return to Russia and Rasputin's skepticism about every single blasted thing Ivan has said (also how completely exasperated Ivan is with him).
There are LOTS of plot holes at the moment, those need to be healed up and I need to have the outline hanging right over my monitor while I work so I don't open up any new ones.
So: Aim for 1500 words tomorrow. All new ones. Rough is fine. But still try to keep the level high.
Also I need to spend a couple of hours on my blog tomorrow. Somehow. It will be a less active day, I guess.
And good night!!
So here's the plan for tomorrow: Fill it in the rest of the way, or as much as possible. I'm looking to triple it, roughly. The tricky thing will be figuring out how much explanation about Rasputin and Ivan to put in, and how much to just let them be themselves and hope it all fleshes out in the serial.
Also, need to play up Ivan's desire to return to Russia and Rasputin's skepticism about every single blasted thing Ivan has said (also how completely exasperated Ivan is with him).
There are LOTS of plot holes at the moment, those need to be healed up and I need to have the outline hanging right over my monitor while I work so I don't open up any new ones.
So: Aim for 1500 words tomorrow. All new ones. Rough is fine. But still try to keep the level high.
Also I need to spend a couple of hours on my blog tomorrow. Somehow. It will be a less active day, I guess.
And good night!!
Monday, September 24, 2012
On Evidence
From The Daily Writer:
This is the central plot problem in Rasputin Wakes Up. Rasputin can tell from sensing his own body that he is a vampire; but how can he come to believe that Ivan really is Ivan the Terrible, First Tsar of Russia? No inside information is going to be sufficient, because Rasputin has no means of verifying it. Manner can be put aside to arrogance or delusion; there was no artwork that Ivan can stand next to to prove his identity, and it wouldn't be precise enough if there were. Ivan can try to use his personal authority on Rasputin, but the first encounter with Rasputin after he wakes up proves that Rasputin is too powerful a personality himself, even though he was "only" a peasant, for that to have any influence with him. And in fact, Ivan does lack authority, because he is not the Tsar that Rasputin knew, his powers are no greater than Rasputin's (only his experience), and in any case he has yet to realize that his power when he really was Tsar derived from the office, rather than his personal qualities.
Ergo, he can not make a case that Rasputin will believe; he is going to have to forge new power, rather than stand on his prior standing. This is the realization that will lead to the conclusion.
Thank goodness for ten minute writing prompts!! My whole plot makes sense now...
Evidence plays a fundamental role in all writing. In nonfiction, of course, assertions must be backed by reliable data, testimony, analysis; they must weather counterarguments. Evidence also plays a role in fiction. If you're writing a political thriller, for example, and part of the drama is played out in the Pentagon, you will need to "prove" to your readers, by way of "inside" background information, that the setting is authentic.
The truth is universally honored; yet many are not aware of the extent to which a claim must be backed by evidence before it can be accepted as truth. Moreover, as Carl Sagan once pointed out, "Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence." For example, if you're going to claim that you were visited by aliens, you had better come up with more than a photograph, which can be easily faked.
This is the central plot problem in Rasputin Wakes Up. Rasputin can tell from sensing his own body that he is a vampire; but how can he come to believe that Ivan really is Ivan the Terrible, First Tsar of Russia? No inside information is going to be sufficient, because Rasputin has no means of verifying it. Manner can be put aside to arrogance or delusion; there was no artwork that Ivan can stand next to to prove his identity, and it wouldn't be precise enough if there were. Ivan can try to use his personal authority on Rasputin, but the first encounter with Rasputin after he wakes up proves that Rasputin is too powerful a personality himself, even though he was "only" a peasant, for that to have any influence with him. And in fact, Ivan does lack authority, because he is not the Tsar that Rasputin knew, his powers are no greater than Rasputin's (only his experience), and in any case he has yet to realize that his power when he really was Tsar derived from the office, rather than his personal qualities.
Ergo, he can not make a case that Rasputin will believe; he is going to have to forge new power, rather than stand on his prior standing. This is the realization that will lead to the conclusion.
Thank goodness for ten minute writing prompts!! My whole plot makes sense now...
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Rasputin Wakes Up - Beginning
Sodalitas Convivium implied that conviviality was a required element to club membership, but Ivan was not interested in being chummy. He brooded over Rasputin's body, fatigued from the effort of dragging him out of the icy water and transporting him from Moscow to London in one evening. It was a feat worthy of celebration, but the humans in the billiards room and and smoking room and dining room would have been horrified, aghast, speechless at any announcement of Ivan's accomplishment. Supposing, of course, that they could have even fathomed the beginnings of such an endeavor, which, it went without saying, they could not. And so Ivan brooded alone, in a straight-backed chair pulled up close to the side of the bed, watching for signs of success.
Success appeared unlikely. He could not see the extent of Rasputin's injuries, though the humans who had ambushed him claimed to have poisoned, shot, beaten, stabbed, and shot him again. All before they threw him into a frozen river.
Poison was unlikely to prevent the transformation that Ivan had undertaken; neither should the freezing water have mattered. The beating was probably not that severe if it had also been necessary to stab and shoot, so the stabbing and shots were the open questions. Had they damaged the heart beyond the repair a vampire transformation could provide?
The damage Rasputin had sustained would also determine how quickly the transformation could take place. Ivan had begun the process while still in hiding in Moscow, but there had been precious little of Rasputin's blood for him to drain, and the man being unconscious had made it difficult for Ivan to prompt the drawing of his own blood that would supplant the man's humanity. His previous offspring had transformed much more quickly than the three days that had elapsed since the river rescue; Ivan would not have attempted to move him from Moscow at all had not the citizens' innate suspicions of the supernatural, combined with the revolutionary hysteria being spread by the damned Bolsheviks, not made it too dangerous for Ivan and Rasputin to remain. Ivan took it as a hopeful sign that the transformation would occur that he had been able to dematerialize Rasputin as well as himself for the flight to London.
A discreet knock at the door disturbed Ivan. He glanced down at Rasputin, still unconscious, still bearing the dark marks of his last human day on his face. The rest of him was covered by the bedspread. Ivan roughly shoved his face away from the door and stood to open it.
"More fuel for your fire, sir?" asked the maid, cautiously. She was short, and carefully not looking in. Ivan acknowledged a grim appreciation for the English respect for appearances.
"I'm fine," he snapped.
"Yes, sir. Very good, sir," she said. He could smell her relief as she turned her mind to the next door.
Success appeared unlikely. He could not see the extent of Rasputin's injuries, though the humans who had ambushed him claimed to have poisoned, shot, beaten, stabbed, and shot him again. All before they threw him into a frozen river.
Poison was unlikely to prevent the transformation that Ivan had undertaken; neither should the freezing water have mattered. The beating was probably not that severe if it had also been necessary to stab and shoot, so the stabbing and shots were the open questions. Had they damaged the heart beyond the repair a vampire transformation could provide?
The damage Rasputin had sustained would also determine how quickly the transformation could take place. Ivan had begun the process while still in hiding in Moscow, but there had been precious little of Rasputin's blood for him to drain, and the man being unconscious had made it difficult for Ivan to prompt the drawing of his own blood that would supplant the man's humanity. His previous offspring had transformed much more quickly than the three days that had elapsed since the river rescue; Ivan would not have attempted to move him from Moscow at all had not the citizens' innate suspicions of the supernatural, combined with the revolutionary hysteria being spread by the damned Bolsheviks, not made it too dangerous for Ivan and Rasputin to remain. Ivan took it as a hopeful sign that the transformation would occur that he had been able to dematerialize Rasputin as well as himself for the flight to London.
A discreet knock at the door disturbed Ivan. He glanced down at Rasputin, still unconscious, still bearing the dark marks of his last human day on his face. The rest of him was covered by the bedspread. Ivan roughly shoved his face away from the door and stood to open it.
"More fuel for your fire, sir?" asked the maid, cautiously. She was short, and carefully not looking in. Ivan acknowledged a grim appreciation for the English respect for appearances.
"I'm fine," he snapped.
"Yes, sir. Very good, sir," she said. He could smell her relief as she turned her mind to the next door.
Monday, July 23, 2012
I don't...
From Take Ten for Writers
I don't eat beans.
I don't ride a bike.
I don't flirt with men.
I don't like to clean
I don't like messy spaces.
I don't like to pay other people to clean (because I feel like a slacker)
I don't know how to play chess very well.
I don't play Scrabble well because I get too hung up on the words and insufficiently concerned about the points.
I don't want to live in California anymore.
I don't like suspense and I'm iffy about surprises.
I don't have the ability to stay up past midnight anymore.
I don't remember what my favorite color was when I was nine.
I don't remember something, but I can't remember what it is.
I don't know if I like to write for ten minutes without stopping.
I don't like the way long nails make me have to change the way I type.
I don't like to handwrite when the writing is good and I don't like to type when the writing is tough.
I don't want to write a story without an outline because I fear the unknown.
I don't want to drive a minivan anymore. I don't want to pay for a new car either.
I don't like ANY PART of doing the laundry, except the part where I have clean clothes available to be worn.
I don't like sitting too low for my desk, but I do like that I just adjusted my chair to be more comfortable.
I don't know if I'm ready... sorry, lost my train of thought.
I don't know why I dream of an old crush declaring his undying love for me in different ways several times a year. Those dreams are so vivid.
I don't like blue very much. Unless it's turquoise.
I don't know why I'm so sleepy when I drink so much coffee.
I don't wear overalls.
I don't play an instrument anymore. I used to play oboe and clarinet a lot, but I actually never learned very much about music and once I got to a certain level of proficiency I lost interest in getting any better.
I don't know why I just had so much trouble spelling proficiency.
I don't own a winter coat anymore, but I do have several hats, gloves, and scarves. I don't own winter boots, either, just fashion boots, which barely count.
I don't ski. I don't want to ski. Skiing scares me and I did not especially enjoy skiing the one time I went.
I don't run, either, but that's basically laziness.
I don't know why this blog has 41 pageviews when I have never promoted it except the one time in how not to write a novel
I don't have a hero. I think I have people I admire but I don't have a hero in the way that I understand a hero. A hero is a person who you really admire and would like to emulate, a person who has special qualities that one can try to foster in oneself, a person who is superior in every meaningful way. I don't have a hero. I have ordinary friends and acquaintances I admire, but no one who overwhelms me with their greatness. Even Queen Elizabeth I is not really a hero to me, although she was great in many ways and I have tremendous respect and admiration for her. But I wouldn't want to be her.
And that concludes my ten minutes. Interesting exercise, this book might be worth keeping out.
I don't eat beans.
I don't ride a bike.
I don't flirt with men.
I don't like to clean
I don't like messy spaces.
I don't like to pay other people to clean (because I feel like a slacker)
I don't know how to play chess very well.
I don't play Scrabble well because I get too hung up on the words and insufficiently concerned about the points.
I don't want to live in California anymore.
I don't like suspense and I'm iffy about surprises.
I don't have the ability to stay up past midnight anymore.
I don't remember what my favorite color was when I was nine.
I don't remember something, but I can't remember what it is.
I don't know if I like to write for ten minutes without stopping.
I don't like the way long nails make me have to change the way I type.
I don't like to handwrite when the writing is good and I don't like to type when the writing is tough.
I don't want to write a story without an outline because I fear the unknown.
I don't want to drive a minivan anymore. I don't want to pay for a new car either.
I don't like ANY PART of doing the laundry, except the part where I have clean clothes available to be worn.
I don't like sitting too low for my desk, but I do like that I just adjusted my chair to be more comfortable.
I don't know if I'm ready... sorry, lost my train of thought.
I don't know why I dream of an old crush declaring his undying love for me in different ways several times a year. Those dreams are so vivid.
I don't like blue very much. Unless it's turquoise.
I don't know why I'm so sleepy when I drink so much coffee.
I don't wear overalls.
I don't play an instrument anymore. I used to play oboe and clarinet a lot, but I actually never learned very much about music and once I got to a certain level of proficiency I lost interest in getting any better.
I don't know why I just had so much trouble spelling proficiency.
I don't own a winter coat anymore, but I do have several hats, gloves, and scarves. I don't own winter boots, either, just fashion boots, which barely count.
I don't ski. I don't want to ski. Skiing scares me and I did not especially enjoy skiing the one time I went.
I don't run, either, but that's basically laziness.
I don't know why this blog has 41 pageviews when I have never promoted it except the one time in how not to write a novel
I don't have a hero. I think I have people I admire but I don't have a hero in the way that I understand a hero. A hero is a person who you really admire and would like to emulate, a person who has special qualities that one can try to foster in oneself, a person who is superior in every meaningful way. I don't have a hero. I have ordinary friends and acquaintances I admire, but no one who overwhelms me with their greatness. Even Queen Elizabeth I is not really a hero to me, although she was great in many ways and I have tremendous respect and admiration for her. But I wouldn't want to be her.
And that concludes my ten minutes. Interesting exercise, this book might be worth keeping out.
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