This is one of those weeks where I’m almost ashamed to post. To say I did not accomplish what I set out to accomplish is an understatement. That said, accountability (and shame) can be particularly motivating. 🙂
This week’s quote comes from one of my favorite writers and dispensers of writerly wisdom, Elmore Leonard.
“I don’t think writers compete, I think they’re all doing separate things in their own style.”
I really like this quote because it addresses a fear I think every author has, especially when you’re starting out. That fear is that you’re writing something exactly like another author or that by sharing your ideas they might be stolen. I think the truth is simply that if you gave two authors the same premise and had them write novels, you’d end up with two wildly different stories. Once you actually develop something resembling a style of your own, everything you wrote is probably going to sound much different than another author, even if the concepts and tropes are identical. I mean, think about how many vampire and zombie novels are out there. With a few rare exceptions, there’s not a lot of new ground to cover with those particular monsters, yet authors keep (sometimes quite successfully) putting their own stamp on them. So write what you want and don’t worry about what other folks are writing. Yours will be yours and theirs will be theirs, and there’s plenty for room for both.
The outline continues, far slower than I would like, but some progress was made last week, mostly with figuring out character motivations and the like. It’s important work, but it bugs me I didn’t get more done. These little hiccups are part of the process I’ve found, and it’s important to not let them deter you. So this week I’ll be forging ahead and focusing on wrapping up at the end of the week.
Yeah, this is pretty depressing. Nary a submission to be found.
Very quiet week. I didn’t even get a rejection, which is odd when you have nine subs pending. I have that sinking feeling the rejections are coming, maybe all at once. I still have time to hit my monthly goal, but I need to get moving. The good news is I did finish two new short pieces I can polish up and start submitting, so, hopefully, I’ll get those January submission numbers up.
I think this week’s batch of #vss365 microfiction is pretty solid, better than last week’s anyway. I believe the January 25th entry is one of the better micros I’ve written in a while. Anyway, click the links in the dates to go to the tweet and like, retweet, etc.
His murders stank of #jasmine. The smell floated on top of the latrine odor of death, mixed with it, until the combination was fouler than dime store perfume or the ruptured bodies beneath it. Now, over twenty years later, even a hint of jasmine makes me want to vomit.
The big mule Sir #Obstinate listened only to our son James. The beast followed him everywhere, obeying every command. When brigands killed James, Sir Obstinate disappeared. We found him days later, his corpse hacked and bloody, six brigands crushed dead beneath his hooves.
“He talk yet?” Sal asked.
“Nah, still doing the crying and begging #rigmarole,” Lucky replied.
Sal tapped the magazine he was reading. “Says here the key to communication is honesty.”
“Well, I told him I’d honestly beat him to death, then he honestly shit himself.”
My mind blares with a #cacophony of foreign thoughts. It’s disorienting at first, but I quickly separate the good from the bad. Thoughts of impending violence I lace with telepathic poison and send back to their owners. The stroke usually keeps them from hurting anyone.
When people complain “That’s not supposed to #happen!” I laugh and show them the scar behind my right ear where I was struck by lightning in ’97. If they’re unconvinced, I pull up my pant leg so they can see the chunk I lost to a great white in ’01. That usually does it.
At my tenth birthday party I was angry I didn’t get a new bike. Instead my parents hired a magician. He asked how he could #amaze me; I said make Mom and Dad disappear. For thirty birthdays I’ve told myself the car accident wasn’t my fault. Some years I almost believe it.
“Anything in our #range interest you?” the Best Possess salesman asked.
Moloch glanced at an array of inert, youthful human bodies. “Anything older?” the demon said. “After five millennia I feel I’m just not possessing these twenty-somethings to their full potential.”
Finish. The. Outline.
Yep, that about covers it. 🙂
That was my week. How was yours?