Ty Unglebower

Not Today.

tyunglebower ♦ November 9, 2015 ♦ Leave a comment

There is an idea. It’s been thought about, considered, deemed worthy of further exploration. It may not be the net great thing, or it may be, but there is time to begin. The project may not even get finished. It happens once in a while, after all.

But for now it’s a go, and…

I don’t start.

Obviously, I start projects on a regular basis, even if I am not the most prolific writer out there. But I have the novel, the short story collection, Project Beta from this summer, my mystery, a draft of a play, a one man show that I perform. And so on. I get things done, in other words. I’m not a loafer when it comes to such things.

And yet…sometimes it just doesn’t feel like the “right day” to start something that I know I will eventually start. Three such projects exist in that state now, within my head, without action thus far.

I have had an idea for a short story collection for the better part of this year, and I know I will at least begin it. But for whatever reason, any given day so far has been, “not quite right.”

This isn’t even “waiting for the muse” which in general a writer can’t afford to do on a regular basis. But the muse has already come with this idea, so to speak. I just, haven’t started it.

Same with a few other things, even as I work on different things.

What is this mythical “correct day” to start one project, when another didn’t seem to require one? Can it be called true procrastination? Maybe. I’ve read that most creative procrastination is actually fear. Am I afraid to start any given project? I suppose there is a bit of that in any artist for any project sometimes. Yet I am obviously not afraid to work in general on my projects, as the number of completed or in-progress examples would attest to.

Truth be told, I can’t claim to be 100% sure what I’m putting off certain things for. in a sense it would be easier to answer this question if I was working on nothing at all. Thankfully, that’s not where I find myself, but that leaves me with this minor mystery.

Previously, I have given myself a deadline to start/finish a project when I have felt like this, and it may come to that again. But lately I have tried to ease up on self-imposed deadlines a bit. (See also, Project Beta.) I don’t want to beat myself up over deadlines all the time, after all.

As with so many such things, the key to getting past this situation is to just start already on at least one of the new ideas. Maybe that’s it..I’m not sure which is most ripe at the moment for initiation. (And I don’t believe in working on half a dozen things at once, either, or else I’d go ahead and start everything this weekend.)

Of course, it will get started. Any project idea that has gotten past the first few mental checkpoints will at least get started.

Such is my process, I suppose, at least periodically. I should be easy on myself. Beating myself up over it will of course do nothing for my creativity. (Nor for your own, if you tend to punish yourself for lack of productivity.)

So I’ll work with whatever the nature of this foot-dragging is for the moment, until it runs its course and I start one of the new things.

I just wish that moment had already arrived by now.

Do you ever feel like this before starting a project that’s otherwise ready to go?

Latest Novel

tyunglebower ♦ October 29, 2015 ♦ 2 Comments

Within the last 24 hours I finished my latest novel.

Wait, what?

No, you didn’t somehow miss all of the updates I posted or tweeted about it. I wrote this one without telling anyone, in my public or private life about it. And that’s just one of the unique qualities about the process of writing this one.

It all started early this summer. I bought a notebook one day to record longer ideas, passages, basic outlines and other such writing-related ideas and reminders that are otherwise too big to write down on the go in the small notebook I take in my pocket most places. I’ve experimented with this kind of larger, more in depth notebook before, but not on a consistent basis.

Just a day or two after I bought this larger notebook, I was resting in my room, and started to drift off to sleep. In the midst of my hypnagogia a phrase of description came to me. Memorable enough to wake me up for the moment, I rolled over and repeated the phrase several times out loud to myself. I first made a mental note to write the phrase down when I woke up. But somehow I was able to convince myself that I was playing craps with the idea. If I liked the phrase enough to write it down at all, there was no reason to risk forgetting about it by waiting until later to do it.

That’s what I bought the notebook for anyway. So I got up, grabbed said notebook and a pen.

I wanted to put the phrase into some kind of context. I decided that if I dragged myself out of bed to do this, I might as well give my future self something more than a handful of words. So I constructed a sentence around the fragment.

Then the sentence became a paragraph, and then two paragraphs before I stopped scribbling.

Before I even closed the notebook, I knew a concept for a story had arisen, and that I was going to continue the idea.

But as what? I didn’t know yet. But so inspired, (as well as surprised) was I to have a concept emerge already from these initial bits, I viewed them with a certain reverence. Because of this, I decided to take an uncommon approach for me.

I was going to pants it. (For those not familiar with that writing term, it means to proceed to write something as it comes to you, cold, with no outline.)

If that wasn’t unusual enough for me, I also decided not to determine the length ahead of time for this new work. I was determined to just write it until it felt like a conclusion had been reached. Would it be a short story, a “long short story,” a whole new novel? I didn’t know. But the story presented itself, and I followed.

So I began the process from an usual place for me.

And I wrote in a somewhat different fashion and pace as well,  as compared to many of my other works. Whenever the question of “what next?” was answered in my mind through the simple organic writing of what came to me, I decided to make that thing happen as soon as I could, within the narrative. I didn’t rush my writing by any means, but I was determined that if a character needed to buy bread for part of the plot to move forward, I was going to get them to the store in less time than is usual for me. (I tend to enjoy setting things up, and adding layers.) This, for lack of a better term, “hurry up” approach accomplished two things for me:

1. I always had a goal post to look at when I felt I might be getting off track. “Get to that store,” I’d tell myself.
2. It made it easier for me to trust the process to bring me what came next. By discovering on the fly (almost) what was next, and trusting that revelation by writing it into the story, other doors would open as needed. Not much pondering about it, just getting on with it.

Yet there were still things about the process that differed from my norm. After about a week, I needed a change of pace one day, so i took my ancient laptop to the library and started working on the story there. I have rarely before that worked on my writing at the library. But it felt right, and I did it again the next day, and the next, until eventually, I was writing this story only at the library. (Which remained the case until this week, when car trouble kept me from getting to the library, and I wrote the last two chapter or so at home.)

It worked so well, I got somewhat “superstitious.” I still didn’t know how long the story would be, but I didn’t want any human outside force to topple what might be a house of cards, so I told nobody about it. Not family, not my readers, not even my writer friends. Nobody. That afforded me a certain freedom from, “how’s the latest novel going?” questions that can sometimes wear thin.

Eventually, of course, a pattern for the story would emerge. I became aware of certain places that it probably “should” go. I remained open to changing my mind as I did more work, (and I did change it once or twice) but I can’t help seeing horizon of what i am doing eventually. Yet I still didn’t outline. I left myself a few reminders of where I was planning to go at the end of each writing session, so I knew somewhere to pick it up from, and the ending was, I felt, already destined. But I kept to my agreement with myself to “pants” it for the most part.

At about 25,000 words I knew I was looking at at least a novella, but I could see it expanding into novel territory depending on how things unfolded. (I still didn’t define the length ahead of time though.) The first draft is about 55,000, so that could place it on the low, short end of novel, or the long end of novella. It’s Nanowrimo length, though, and they call it a novel at that length, so I guess I could as well. A lot will depend on the first set of revisions, which I don’t plan to begin until after the holidays.

As for genre, I’m so bad at that. One of my weaknesses as an author, I suppose. But the writing itself is more literary than I have been before at this length. I’ve written shorty literary pieces, but this is the first potential literary novel I’ve done. (Though it may also be magical realism, or some light variety of fantasy, I just don’t know yet.) I liked playing with language and description to a greater than normal degree though.

And-that’s all I’m going to tell you for now. Sorry, that may be unfair, but in keeping with my policy of keeping this project distant from others, I’ll likely reveal very little about it until later drafts, when it’s on more solid footing. Besides, there is at least one major repair in the middle I know I will have to make based on the ending I eventually came to. Thing took a slight turn I didn’t plan on up front. But that’s what first drafts are for, and that is what leaving them in a drawer for a few months is for, which I intend to do.

Assuming this will end up novel length, even on the shorter end, it will mark forth complete novel I have written, lifetime. (Including my very first novel-length piece which I put in a drawer many  years ago that I doubt will ever surface.) Then Flowers of Dionysus  of course. An as yet unnamed mystery novel that I completed for Nanowrimo last year, (which I plan to publish) and this recently completed manuscript, which I have been calling Project Beta. The title has nothing to do with the plot; it’s just a working title.

So there you have it. An unplanned, unnamed novel that I pantsed my way through in the library on my laptop all summer and into fall, based on a phrase that came to me in a near-sleep state.

Stay tuned.

Five Things That Discourage New Writers

tyunglebower ♦ October 26, 2015 ♦ Leave a comment

In the writing world, “beginner” has many definitions. In a sense, we all remain beginners, as the craft is never truly mastered to perfection.

But, I’m going to guess that for most the term “beginner” refers to those who are only just now exploring writing. First story, first novel, or just thinking about maybe, kinda trying to do either. Those just on the fence about starting this journey into authordom.

Such greenhorns will often seek advice from those with more experience, and while I think advice can be helpful, those of us who have been writing for a while have a tendency to do things that could scare newbies right out of the writing community. The following are five of the worst things we say and do, and the community ought to stop it.

1)“Other than breathing and eating, writing has to be the single most all encompassing instinct you have, and we’re not even sure about eating. If you can imagine being content with your life for even five minutes without writing, go do something else. You’re not a true writer.”

Cast in a certain light this is perhaps a wonderfully romantic notion. But realistically, come on. I know the purpose of this approach is to emphasize how much dedication and thick skin is required to be an author in either the traditional or the indie model, but imagine hearing that sort of talk in the first few fledgling days of thinking about writing. Do we really want to discourage people from writing who don’t feel their entire existence must be sacrificed at this altar?

2) “Get good an promoting, because unless you’re Stephen King nobody’s going to do it for you. You might want to spend a year or two building an online platform, and perfecting your brand presence before you start your first draft. Start setting aside money now for professional editing services. If you care about your product, it’s be several thousand at least, or nobody will take you seriously.”

I imagine to someone who hasn’t yet “taken the plunge” this sort of thing sounds more like, “If you are not at least part of the middle class, you probably don’t want to bother sincerely pursuing life as a writer.”  Not only is that bullshit from a factual standpoint, it’s also damaging to the community as a whole to keep putting money, money, money out there as an important factor. You may or may not need money at some point, but let’s not throw that at people first off.

Why not? As I said, it may not cost as much as people say it does to be a writer. Secondly, nothing can be promoted if it isn’t written, and far to often people dipping their toes into the writing waters for the first time have “YOU HAVE TO BE AN AUTHORPRENUER THESE DAYS!!!!” blasted through a megaphone directly into their eardrums 24/7.

I myself still struggle with the business end of things. The business side may be necessary eventually, but making sure people know they can’t be a writer without being a business wiz right of the bat is unfair. It may even be inaccurate…I’m convinced that model may be dying a slow death, but that’s for another post.

3) “Face it; you will never be a well known writer, and you certainly will not be able to make a living as one. People who do that are extraordinarily rare, and the hard truth is….you aren’t those people. Be content to just finish a book, and don’t concern yourself with making a career out of it, because you probably won’t. Sorry.”

My first response to that is, how the hell do you know if any given person is or is not going to be able to make a living as an author, or even that they won’t became well known? Everybody who is well known as an author now as at some point not well known. And while “stardom,” whatever that is, might in fact be against the odds, it happens all the time, doesn’t it? And not just in writing. People who go into plumbing have very little chance of building a business as successful as Roto-Rooter, but I don’t hear as many people mentioning the odds to them.

Realistic goals are good, but so are the big ones. The odds say you probably won’t be a star, but those odds are the same for just about everyone.

And why assume stardom is what a new writer is seeking anyway? Maybe that’s your own dream deferred, not theirs. Even if it is theirs, how much has gotten done, especially in the world of creative arts, by saying, “Don’t bother to dream, you won’t make it.”

And though there are always exceptions, I find it difficult to believe that every single Mr. High and Mighty who says, “don’t worry about people ever reading your stuff” actually isn’t concerned about readers. Please.

“Let me put it this way; your dreams won’t turn out as good as this.”

4) “Read this blog. And this one. You have to follow this woman on Twitter, and him, and her. And read this blog, he knows what he’s talking about. Join this newsletter…”

Advice overload. Getting some pointers and encouragement from other writers at various stages in their development can be useful, yes. But try to remember that for someone experimenting with being writer for the first time, their really is no royalty. By that I mean that if you have been around the writing community for a while, you may have found several sources of information that you consider invaluable to your efforts. New people may one day find value there as well, and it’s okay to mention these sources to newbies. But in the end, I think they have to come to sources and personalities that speak to them in their own time. They may find that your own inspiration does little for them in the vast world of writing advice.

Let new writers write for a while, so they can feel what it’s all about, before you insist they become disciples of someone.

5) “Welcome to the potentially life-changing, wonderful adventure that is writing fiction! Buy my stuff.”

Tacky. Sooooo damn tacky. And it’s indicative of a widespread problem within the writing community in my opinion. Yes, we have to be authorprenuers, we covered that already. Yes, promotion and marketing and network building is part of the game, eventually. But I have found that unless it is explicitly forbidden by moderators, most writing message boards and blog commentary sections are overrun with people selling their novel, their writing course, their souls. (I threw the last one in their for metaphorical emphasis…at least I hope.)

The point is, to me the writing community already too often feels like a cheap carnival midway, full of peddlers not at all worried about helping people out or improving the community as a whole, and I’ve been at least somewhat a part of it for several years now. I can’t imagine what it’s like for new writers these days who are looking only for some advice an encouragement, but are instead half the time hit with people begging them to buy stuff. (Often some of the same people who advise writers to “save” their money.”

We all have to promote, and we all have to find a way to get out names out there, but should it feel like a used-car lot as soon as someone decides to open their lives to writing? I don’t think so. Back off a bit.

Even for the most seasoned of authors, the creative impulse must be treated with respect and care. Discipline is required to get anything done, of course, but we must be gentle, lest we lose all perspective and/or motivation to be artists.

That impulse, that seed of creativity and desire to share is even more fragile for the total beginner. People who have put it off for years can be so easily dissuaded from finally becoming writers. It’s a difficult enough transition for some; let’s not make it any worse for them by doing these things I’ve mentioned and other things like them.

We want people to start writing. Until they give themselves permission to do that on a regular  basis, everything else means nothing.