I've always been amazed at authors you hear of, some churning out several novels a year or even more. For me, the actual writing has always been the hardest part - editing and marketing are easier and more fun - but without writing, nothing's gonna happen. So this summer I've been trying different methods to increase my productivity, and I've stumbled on a few really key things I'd like to share with you. Not everyone writes the same of course, but maybe something will help.
1. Disconnect the internet. If you have wireless, unplug the router's power supply. Vitally necessary to avoid distraction, even if you call it research. Write down research questions and look them up another time, but not when you're writing.
2. Find a clock that shows the seconds passing, preferably a stopwatch. There's quite a good one online here: http://tools.arantius.com/stopwatch Save the html file locally so you can use it when offline! Arrange your windows over one another so you can see the seconds tick by as you write. Hide the milliseconds, though. They are too fast for your brain.
3. Start the clock. Start writing. Write sixteen words per minute. Keep score of yourself now and then by marking the new section of text before you go to Word Count. Tip: Make a Word Count button right in your button bar so you don't have to chase through menus.
4. Sixteen words per minute isn't much. A sentence or two, maybe. Surely you can bang that out in a minute. This means you should have 80 words after five minutes, and 160 after ten. Stop the clock if you are interrupted or have to take care of something else, and don't forget to restart it.
5. When ten minutes are up, start counting words again from that point. In one hour, you will write about a thousand words. Well, okay, 960, but once you're in the flow it'll probably go over 1000 anyway. Nearly always does for me.
6. Always finish writing the current scene before you stop for the day or for a prolonged gap. It's very hard to get back into the middle of one. If this seems a tough goal, consider making your scenes shorter, at least for now.
7. This is a first draft! It's allowed to be bad! You can always fix it later.
I'm at least half plotter, which helps a lot because usually I do know roughly what's about to happen so I can write it without stopping much to think. This requires a couple of main ingredients: know whose POV the scene is to be in, know the setting, and know your plot goal - what must the story accomplish in this scene? Of course other things will flow into the mix as you write, surprising and unexpected things sometimes, which thrills my SOTP side no end.
This may sound incredibly strict and regimented, but believe me, I'm not that kind of person :) Oddly enough, I'm a night-owl, but this method works best in the morning when I'm fresh. The idea of this much discipline late at night is rather daunting I guess. And what a feeling to go about the rest of my business knowing I've been a real writer today and not just messed around.
Bottom line: no matter how weird it sounds, I have been able to get two thousand words before noon a number of times - which has never ever happened before - and to my amazement, I've churned out half a novel in two weeks. Not saying it's finished, mind you. It'll need loads of editing just like anything else... but it is complete!
Thursday, 18 September 2008
Wednesday, 17 September 2008
Cyberdublin: get ready, here it comes!
Welcome to Cyberdublin, where the hyperserver Oodles presides over all of society. But when its central brain falls prey to sabotage, Ireland spins towards chaos. In County Dublin, the heart of the fallen cyberworld, an orphan dreamer and her housemates face a reality far less virtual than they're used to, while unwittingly entangling themselves with the saboteurs...
In this story there are six different viewpoints. The image below shows their distribution.
Rachel - blue - main character.
Talitha - pink - also main.
Cormac - yellow - the villain.
Aqua, brown and red are for Bethany, Zehrani and Louise, who live in the house with Rach and Tali.
All of them are in third-person except the villain, who is in first. This was so much fun to write! There was never any time to get bored...
In this story there are six different viewpoints. The image below shows their distribution.
Rachel - blue - main character.
Talitha - pink - also main.
Cormac - yellow - the villain.
Aqua, brown and red are for Bethany, Zehrani and Louise, who live in the house with Rach and Tali.
All of them are in third-person except the villain, who is in first. This was so much fun to write! There was never any time to get bored...
Check out Linda Leigh Hargrove!
This lady is in a writers' group with me (online of course) and I've just been checking out her website. The books look really great and I'll have to get hold of them after I finish globetrotting.
Take a look here: http://llhargrove.com - I think you'll like what you see!
Friday, 12 September 2008
The CFRB Tours COME TO ME by Laura Davis
This is the story of Jesus as told by his mother Mary to Luke, the doctor. It has a cozy, homey feel for much of the book, and I would recommend it for reading to children, of course with appropriate parental guidance through the crucifixion part. Lots of the action is taken directly from the Bible, with extra touches of colours and settings to bring it to life and put a more realistic and human flavour into the old stories known so well by so many. It is written simply so that even people who don't normally read books would be likely to enjoy it.
There are snatches of fun in unexpected places, such as the idea that Jesus was a practical joker and loved to play tricks on people and laugh. Nothing mean, of course! The scenes surrounding the resurrection are of particular interest as Laura has written Mary's experience of those times for us to travel through with her.
Laura has worked very hard on this and is very brave to step out alone in publishing a novel based on a story that's already gone around the globe. But I ask, can there ever be too many stories about Jesus? I doubt it. He is universal after all, with his message for all the world. I truly hope this novel will help people to understand Jesus better and love him for who he really is.
Please go to her website and read the first chapter at http://www.authorlauradavis.com/cometomeexcerpt.htm to discover if this book whets your appetite for more!
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Tuesday, 9 September 2008
Ireland's First Messianic Wedding
Ireland’s First Messianic Wedding
A 12th century-castle. Whitewashed stone walls, dark timber beams with carved figurine bases, leadlighted windows, red and black and yellow mosaic tiles on the floor of the high Great Hall. All is ready for the wedding: the chupa, the menorahs, the anointing oil, the shofar, the silver goblet of wine, the rings on their silken pillow. Enter now the string quartet in black suits; they play as the guests arrive. Now the worship quartet in black and white. I swing in behind the guitar and call the murmuring assembly to silence so we can start the singing.
Then the bridal parties enter: first the groom with his bride’s nephews, all in dark green kilts. Ilan of course is also wearing a kippah and tallit over his Scottish regalia. Three bridesmaids carried log-stemmed lilies. Finally, the bride, Alison herself, in white with a dark green cape to trail behind her, and over it all a long, long veil reaching to the floor.
Some of the readings confused me at first, until I realised this was Ephesians 5, speaking of Yeshua and the Messianic Community. The wine was shared and the anointing oil applied. Vows were exchanged, many and powerful, more than we’re used to in our church weddings. The shofar was blown and the crowd shouted - the young men in kilts, the princesses in their finest robes, the bards in black. A banquet fit for royalty was all ready in the balcony.
A wood fire was lit in the eight-foot hearth. Smoke filled the hall and sent guests rushing into the cold evening. When it was safe to return, we discovered the smoke had gathered in an upper room of the tower. The setting sun streamed through mullioned windows and turned the hazy air to magical rays of light, a background the photographers were forced to use.
Later the string quartet struck up Hava Nagila and we danced in concentric circles around Alison and Ilan, whooping as we went. After a while I danced a slow waltz with one of the kilted warriors, who was probably ten years younger than me.
(More pictures are coming at a later date, I hope. My camera didn't do too well in the candlelight!)
The next morning I dragged myself and my daze by the shortcut along the seafront to be with the church that’s become my family. After worship - a fantastic job by Liam, Raissa, Ogey and Christine - Noel called me to the front. Maggie presented me with a gold-wrapped box. These folks are full of surprises! Well, anyway, it contained a Claddagh necklace and earrings - an ancient Irish symbol of friendship. Perhaps I’ll have to get my ears pierced after all, a permanent reminder of my friends in Balbriggan.
Oh, I was sorry to leave them. Yet even as I got off the bus in Belfast on Sunday night, the North worked its magic on me and I’m more than glad to be here. In knowing this isle of my mother’s roots - her mother from the South, her father from the North - I have come to love it more and more. And I sat in a blue train rushing towards Bangor. Dream on, friends; it may take you far.
On Monday I walked the coastal towns from Crawfordsburn through Bangor, Ballyholme, and nearly to Groomsport, but there was too much mud on the track in the end. Still, it was a round trip of about eight miles.
In writing news: Cyberdublin is up to thirty-two thousand words, Godspeed is still stuck at two thousand - but just wait, now that I’m in Bangor things could start to happen! The Legendary Space Pilgrims are under edits and the second draft is shaping up nicely, though there's plenty more work to be done.
A 12th century-castle. Whitewashed stone walls, dark timber beams with carved figurine bases, leadlighted windows, red and black and yellow mosaic tiles on the floor of the high Great Hall. All is ready for the wedding: the chupa, the menorahs, the anointing oil, the shofar, the silver goblet of wine, the rings on their silken pillow. Enter now the string quartet in black suits; they play as the guests arrive. Now the worship quartet in black and white. I swing in behind the guitar and call the murmuring assembly to silence so we can start the singing.
Then the bridal parties enter: first the groom with his bride’s nephews, all in dark green kilts. Ilan of course is also wearing a kippah and tallit over his Scottish regalia. Three bridesmaids carried log-stemmed lilies. Finally, the bride, Alison herself, in white with a dark green cape to trail behind her, and over it all a long, long veil reaching to the floor.
Some of the readings confused me at first, until I realised this was Ephesians 5, speaking of Yeshua and the Messianic Community. The wine was shared and the anointing oil applied. Vows were exchanged, many and powerful, more than we’re used to in our church weddings. The shofar was blown and the crowd shouted - the young men in kilts, the princesses in their finest robes, the bards in black. A banquet fit for royalty was all ready in the balcony.
A wood fire was lit in the eight-foot hearth. Smoke filled the hall and sent guests rushing into the cold evening. When it was safe to return, we discovered the smoke had gathered in an upper room of the tower. The setting sun streamed through mullioned windows and turned the hazy air to magical rays of light, a background the photographers were forced to use.
Later the string quartet struck up Hava Nagila and we danced in concentric circles around Alison and Ilan, whooping as we went. After a while I danced a slow waltz with one of the kilted warriors, who was probably ten years younger than me.
(More pictures are coming at a later date, I hope. My camera didn't do too well in the candlelight!)
The next morning I dragged myself and my daze by the shortcut along the seafront to be with the church that’s become my family. After worship - a fantastic job by Liam, Raissa, Ogey and Christine - Noel called me to the front. Maggie presented me with a gold-wrapped box. These folks are full of surprises! Well, anyway, it contained a Claddagh necklace and earrings - an ancient Irish symbol of friendship. Perhaps I’ll have to get my ears pierced after all, a permanent reminder of my friends in Balbriggan.
Oh, I was sorry to leave them. Yet even as I got off the bus in Belfast on Sunday night, the North worked its magic on me and I’m more than glad to be here. In knowing this isle of my mother’s roots - her mother from the South, her father from the North - I have come to love it more and more. And I sat in a blue train rushing towards Bangor. Dream on, friends; it may take you far.
On Monday I walked the coastal towns from Crawfordsburn through Bangor, Ballyholme, and nearly to Groomsport, but there was too much mud on the track in the end. Still, it was a round trip of about eight miles.
In writing news: Cyberdublin is up to thirty-two thousand words, Godspeed is still stuck at two thousand - but just wait, now that I’m in Bangor things could start to happen! The Legendary Space Pilgrims are under edits and the second draft is shaping up nicely, though there's plenty more work to be done.
Sunday, 10 August 2008
CHION by Darryl Sloan - The Review
Yes, I'm late. Want to know why? I got stuck in the Dublin floods and couldn't get home last night. I did make some video but these guys did it better:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zXRyqaNxrpA
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qJxOFCEkWmo
Well, enough of that. There's a great book to go on about! And it involves not rain, but snow...
Chion is Greek and means "like snow". A white substance has fallen from the sky, immobilising all that it touches. We watch events unfold within a junior high school. The story is centred on Jamie and his friend Tara, fighting to survive in a world that's turned against humanity. Yet the national and international disaster is eclipsed by their intensely personal journey of faith and tragedy, despair and love, chilling ruthlessness and future hope.
Darryl has written a book eminently suitable for teens, but carrying enough bite for vanloads of grown-ups. I loved the Irish setting (of course), the accents leaping off the page, and a very nicely crafted story. And so imaginative! Who would ever think of twelve reams of paper as a life-saving necessity? Not me. Surprises like this are all the way through Chion, along with quirky sideways humour - such as when Jamie thinks of terrorists as the safe, sensible explanation for what's going on.
This is not sci-fi as you know it. There's actually very little in the way of technical stuff. It's very people-centred, casting a bright light on personal action and reaction to adversity. Both kindness and cruelty are increased in a vivid display of humanity, and it caused me to wonder: What would I do? Can I even answer that question? If the whole country were in such mortal danger, would my thoughts be on my own survival - or someone else's?
There's a great sense of the coldness, of streets emptied of life, of sudden harshness, the will to live, and the will to save. There's also a sense of the awakening of maturity within Jamie and Tara as they face the unprecedented situation.
Chion is an absolute gem. Hold on tight and jump aboard for the ride!
Visit Darryl's website
Check out these member blogs too. Audio interviews are posted here from August 4th - click on the top banner to listen.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zXRyqaNxrpA
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qJxOFCEkWmo
Well, enough of that. There's a great book to go on about! And it involves not rain, but snow...
Chion is Greek and means "like snow". A white substance has fallen from the sky, immobilising all that it touches. We watch events unfold within a junior high school. The story is centred on Jamie and his friend Tara, fighting to survive in a world that's turned against humanity. Yet the national and international disaster is eclipsed by their intensely personal journey of faith and tragedy, despair and love, chilling ruthlessness and future hope.Darryl has written a book eminently suitable for teens, but carrying enough bite for vanloads of grown-ups. I loved the Irish setting (of course), the accents leaping off the page, and a very nicely crafted story. And so imaginative! Who would ever think of twelve reams of paper as a life-saving necessity? Not me. Surprises like this are all the way through Chion, along with quirky sideways humour - such as when Jamie thinks of terrorists as the safe, sensible explanation for what's going on.
This is not sci-fi as you know it. There's actually very little in the way of technical stuff. It's very people-centred, casting a bright light on personal action and reaction to adversity. Both kindness and cruelty are increased in a vivid display of humanity, and it caused me to wonder: What would I do? Can I even answer that question? If the whole country were in such mortal danger, would my thoughts be on my own survival - or someone else's?
There's a great sense of the coldness, of streets emptied of life, of sudden harshness, the will to live, and the will to save. There's also a sense of the awakening of maturity within Jamie and Tara as they face the unprecedented situation.
Chion is an absolute gem. Hold on tight and jump aboard for the ride!
Check out these member blogs too. Audio interviews are posted here from August 4th - click on the top banner to listen.
Monday, 4 August 2008
The Great Live Dundalk Interview: Darryl Sloan and Grace Bridges
Yes folks - here it is! have fun... each part is about 15 minutes long.
If the player above won't work for you, click here to download the MP3's directly. You may wish to right-click the links on that page and select Save Target As / Save Link As - to save the file to a location of your choice.
Check out these member blogs Aug. 3-9 for more info.
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