The States!

I'm back!

(Actually, I got back yesterday, but today was the first real day States-side.)

You know, I love Canada, but there are some nice things about the US. For example, Starbucks. I've found more than one place in Canada that actively eschews the store. Not fun. I've become rather used to having tea sold within a five mile radius. Also, while Canadian money was not based on Monopoly money (otherwise the fives would be pink), it still looks funny to me. (Though, I must say, twonies, are awesome.)

I learned some interesting things during my trip.

• "I thought the second act had a bit of a length problem?" -- For the record, my brother thinks everything has a length problem. I mean, he's found short films overlong. So, every time we say a play, he found the second act, and sometimes the first, longer than necessary. This, actually, can be applied to writing. Post climax, your reader only gives you so long to wrap things up. Subplots should probably be resolved along the way, not post main issue.

• "Miles are far." -- I asked my cousins to translate their 8 kilometers into miles, and when it was done, they were all surprised at how small the number was. "Miles are far," my cousin pointed out. To me, it sounds like one of those "brilliant" things that occurs whilst one is a little drunk, except in that context it made a lot of sense. They all think in kilometers. Life is relative.

• "Soup! That changes everything!" -- At a restaurant, just when we were about to order, my brother learned that the restaurant sold soup. It did, in fact, change everything for him. Did I mention life is relative?

Must Be This Tall To Read

Today, I saw a very nice production of Julius Caesar. My internal thespian giggles with glee at such productions. One thing disconcerted me, though. As I was leaving, I saw a girl who looked no older than eight. True, she was with her mother, but that doesn't change some things about the show.

Let's have a little thought about age appropriate. This might not have been the bloodiest thing I've ever seen on a stage, but this was still the production where blood actually seeped from the corpse down the pulpit. True, I offer much praise to the techies who pulled that off, but that's not something I'd recommend for kids.

People consider often what to rate movies, how to categorize books, but it's not often people say, "oh, but isn't that play too high of a rating for kids?" At least, if that's happening, no one has ever said it in front of me (or the parent's of the tween or under personages I've seen at some particularly gruesome shows.)

Forsaking the middle, Julius Caesar ends with **Spoiler Alert** two assisted suicides. Interesting to watch when well done, but certainly a gruesome thought. In my younger days, my father's method of information control, instead of ratings or such things, was to tell me which items I wanted to read or watch he thought would make me unhappy. I soon learned that he was often right. I'd include much of Julius Caesar as things that would make a kid unhappy.

What constitutes "too much" for children? What is okay in books/movies/film?

Holy Reappearance Batman!

One day, whilst I was writing the beginning of The Thief Book, my MC decided to run off and join six people under a bridge for a few nights. Me, I wanted to beat my notebook against my head. I now had six characters I rather liked, each of whom I'd put some detail into, for whom I had no other plans for the rest of the book. (What can I say? They seemed like a good idea while the pen was on the paper.)

What was I to do with them? I mean, having spent all that time with them, it seemed rather wrong to abandon them entirely. It seemed to me that I'd created a situation in which the reader would expect them to come back. And then goodness knows what I ought to do with that. **mimes stabbing self with cheap, plastic pen**

After some reflection, I concluded that these new minor characters could be my sporadic pop-up characters. It seems to me that sometimes there are characters who show up from nowhere to deliver information or create momentary conflict, and then they disappear into nowhere. Now, I had six people I could use to fill those roles. And once they'd passed on the info or helped instigate trouble, they can go back to living "comfortably" under the bridge.

So, a happy praise to the reappearing, now useful character. I'm not sure what my psyche meant them for in the first place, but they seem to have a use now, anyway.

What do you do with randomly appearing characters? Are such characters better written out of the story altogether?

Oh No You Didn't

I'm still stuck in Chapter 3. Why? Because my characters just will not cooperate.

With what I had hoped to be the end of the chapter rapidly approaching, Character C is crying and Character A is comforting her. Everything was going according to plan. Then...

Me: Okay, A, here's your window to reveal your past, answer all of her questions, and clear this up.

A: But she's really sad. I didn't know she'd be this sad.

Me: Don't worry. If you say your lines comfortingly enough, she'll calm down.

C: **sniffles against A, oblivious to the whole conversation**

A: Yeah, I don't think that's going to work.

Me: Please, just say it.

A: But then I'll seem like a callous jerk. I don't want to be the callous jerk. That's Character F's job.

Me: Fine. We'll do this your way. What've you got.

A: Well, I was thinking we could just [yet another scene, though admittedly a fairly nice idea]

Me: Fine. I'll just resent you for five minutes and then do it.

(At this point, my sister, who reads things over my shoulder, says that talking to my characters makes me schizophrenic. In my defence, none of that was said out loud. If it had been, the nice person next to me on the flight might have demanded a change of seat.)

My characters don't often protest my ideas. When they do, I choose to succumb. It just seems to go so much easier that way.

For other good reading on the subject, click here.

What do you do with your wayward characters? Do you have internal conversations, too?

Poof and Gone

I'm about to pull a disappearing act.

Tomorrow, I intend to rise at an indecent hour to board a plane to Canada to attend my cousin's wedding. After that, my family and I are attending a theater festival in Canada. I love my family, especially my cousins, and I love theater, but I am a little sad that I will most likely miss all of the blogosphere whilst gone.

I don't love long flights, but there is a silver lining: Confined to an airplane seat, I will have almost no choice but to buckle down and catch up on my writing. :-)

See you all when I get back.

Beating My Head Against a Wall

As a general rule, I enjoy deadlines. Yes, they do make a lovely whooshing sound as they fly by, but as a rule I tend to respond well to them. The only deadlines and requirements I can't seem to flourish under are my own. For The Thief Book, I told myself to write 1500 words a day. It was going rather well for a while, until my work ended up on my alpha reader's desk for about five days, eating through all of my leeway and putting me painfully behind.

As a rule, I despise playing catch-up. I can do it, but it takes a long time, and I hate doing it. Still, that's what I'm doing now, and it makes me whiny and annoying to others. I told myself I should finish chapter three today, except I wrote the number of pages I meant to write and still have not a) caught up or b) finished the chapter. And I just don't have it in me to finish the chapter tonight.

Yes, I know, if I'm behind, I should probably not be blogging right now. Except, it's either close the notebook for the night, or moan for about five minutes straight over a blank page and a diet coke. So, for the moment, good night.

Anyone else have moments/hours/days/light years like this?

Good News

:D

Today, I received a request for a full on a query I sent out at the end of February. I'd written the letter off as a no-response. I'm not counting any chickens, but it did take a minute or two for my heart rate to return to normal.

Only one, obvious, tiny, little baby little hiccup: I don't have an author bio. There's nothing to say about me. I've been leaving it off the query letters. What does one say when one has no credentials? I have a feeling that, at this point, they might actually be expecting a paragraph.