Writing Moment

This morning, I had a remarkable dream, and I was inspired, not to write it down, but to use a clue given in the dream to write a scene that I had been struggling with in my novel. I try to aim for regular scenes that genuinely have an emotional impact on the reader, and so I try to find things that have a genuine impact on me as a writer. I think that reading a book should be an experience that offers more than just a "that was cool" reaction: it should strike the reader on a deep emotional level and offer him the opportunity to change his way of seeing the world, as though he himself had experienced the events of the book. In that way, I think reading a book can be as moving as real life. But I've heard this before, and it's true: if the writer doesn't feel anything while writing it, the reader doesn't feel anything when reading it.

And so I made the change to the scene in my head, and it felt right, so I got up, turned my computer on, and wrote it. And as I was typing the final words, I was overcome with emotion, I sobbed aloud, and tears ran down my face. It was the first time I had driven myself to the point of tears in a story.

I don't know if I'll even use the scene in the final draft of the novel, since it's still a while before I connect where the novel is now to that point, so things might be different by then. I do have the feeling that it will still be there in some way; I was genuinely heartbroken by characters that exist only in my imagination.

And that was remarkable.

Avatar, no!

I've heard a rumor that Avatar: the Last Airbender might be ending. This came to me through Facebook; apparently, the group that does the music for Avatar said that they were wrapping up doing the music for the "final episodes," which "will not disappoint."

Does this mean I won't give up hope for a fourth season? No way. But still, realistically, it looks like this might be the end for our heroes! I have to admit, I've been getting a bit of a weird vibe from the latest episodes. It seemed at the end of the second season that they were setting up for a much longer story. No spoilers, but things weren't exactly going the way our heroes might have hoped. Now, in the third season, it does feel like things have shifted to a much more direct (and, if I may say, a bit hurried) conclusion. Does this mean the show isn't awesome? Absolutely not; it's still my favorite show in television, even more than Battlestar Galactica. It does mean that it's going to break my heart if it ends, and particularly if it doesn't have an end worthy of the show. I want something epic, yet profound. Adventure and story all mixed together. And no "remember who you are!" nonsense.

More than anything, I'm really worried that the end will feel rushed or will leave plots unfinished. They should just take their time and make a fourth season. Water, Earth, Fire... we need an AIR SEASON! It's only obvious.

Wikipedia says that Avatar is making a lot of money as a franchise. Why end the cartoon now? So they can make a live-action movie? Give me a break.

Appa! Yip, yip!

On an unrelated note, they did finally publish the writing contest awards. They actually did it later the same day that I wrote my gripe. Did they listen? I call it coincidence. I didn't win in any other category. I'm very disappointed. As much as I want to keep up appearances as the artist himself and just shrug it off, I can't help but think that if I can't even place on a University-level, how am I ever going to write something that's loved by millions?

Guilt

A while back, someone messaged me on MySpace, asking to be my friend because, to cut things to the chase, she wanted me to buy her book when it finally comes out. Seeing a chance to chat with a fellow novelist about the writing process, I started sending messages with her back and forth. Now, I've decided to stop replying. She's been nice, but I just can't bring myself to care about the story another writer I don't know is writing. I'm not particularly interested in the story from what I've heard. What hurts even more, to be honest, is that she hasn't shown any particular interest in my own writing. I've talked about it a little, but I guess she isn't clairvoyant in being able to leap onto the fact that she should be quizzing me about my own theories about writing and the details of the stories I'm working on.

I'm not saying I don't like being part of a "writing community," as if there was such a thing, rather than just a bunch of writers who are friends. I'm saying that, I'm sorry, but since I don't know this person and she doesn't seem particularly concerned about getting to know me, there's really not much for me to do other than wish her luck, which I did. Maybe I'll buy her book if I see it on store shelves. But there's no personal connection there; frankly, her self-promotion left a bad taste in my mouth. I want to be friends with people who genuinely want to know me and my writing, not just people who want my Benjamins.

Today was a good day. I watched Battlestar Galactica with some good people. Sharing something that I like isn't nearly as satisfying as sharing something I like that I've created, but until the sweet, sweet day I finally get something published, the story of BSG will have to do. Maybe I'll do a blog later giving my own anti-Cylon sentiments. I also had poetry class. That's always an adventure. That class always feels much too short; one of my criticisms is that we spend too much time "workshopping" poems. I have the good fortune of studying under award-winning poet Michael Sowder. Sometimes, I just don't consider how fortunate I am, as a writer, to work with people like that, even though I'm a fiction writer at heart, not a poet.

But Shakespeare never wrote prose fiction, and Chaucer himself was a poet.

The unavoidable blog question, and others

One does have to wonder what they mean when they say things like "bloggers responded by... " and "the blog community...". Exactly who makes up these nebulous organizations? Who decides who is a worthy blogger, a fellow of note and repute, while the rest are more or less empty windbags? I ask you.

On a lighter note, the new Conan trade paperback by Dark Horse is coming out. It's well worth checking out, because this comic series actually takes the original work by Robert E. Howard and turns it into comics, rather than trying to tell new Conan stories. Of course, Howard only wrote one Conan novel, and many short stories that were hit or miss, but his writing is much better than that of any other Conan writer. Why? Because Howard told a story that was important to him with characters that he believed in; everyone else, to some degree, is just "doing Conan." And whether you know something about Conan or he's just a big muscly guy in a loincloth to you, it's never going to be the same as the complex, powerful individual Howard visualized and brought to life.

Writing continues to progress with difficulty. I think I have far too many projects open at once. It's time to wrap up a short story for my occult story collection and focus on the four other major projects I have right now: my thesis for grad school, my fantasy novel, my cyberpunk novel, and a new project. Why a new project, when all of that is already weighing on me? Because I'm constantly on the lookout for something new and exciting that gets my imagination going at critical mass and makes me feel like I'm creating a world that's really and deeply meaningful.

Maybe I'll talk more about how I intend to do that in a later blog.

Take care, my ugly ducklings.

Poets, et all

Today, the poet Naomi Shihab Nye visited my campus, and I had the pleasure of eating lunch with her at noon. I also attended the "master class" she presented at three o'clock. She also came to the faculty panel about creativity at one o'clock. So, today was Naomi Nye-riffic. But contrary to my usual cynicism/irony, I really enjoyed her company. Her poetry is very down-to-Earth, and it wasn't surprising to find that she, too, is down to Earth. She seemed genuinely happy to be here on this snowy college campus, which I can't imagine, since the other ninety percent of the people living here are all busy complaining about the snow and ice.



She was very cordial at lunch today, which I attended with three other student writers, all of whom are female. So, as I've gotten more or less used to, I was the sole representer of the less fair sex. We talked about several things over lunch, such as the weather, the beauty of nature (Ms. Nye had seen a moose earlier, and I told her how jealous I am that she's been in Utah two days and already has a moose sighting, while I've gone four years without one), and the relative nature of the way we see time (for instance, in the Western United States, a building that's two hundred years old is considered old!). She asked us all about what we're doing, and encouraged us to write about our lives, using our experiences and insights.

The creative panel was very interesting. After all, I call myself a creative writer, but what does it mean to be creative? Every story that can be told probably has been, in some form, so what is creativity? The panel seemed to decide it was originality and innovation: creating something new that has fresh meaning and worth.

Then it was off to the master class. What to do when it's a room full of creative writing-types being controlled by another creative writing type? Miss Nye is a middle-aged, very amiable woman, not much more than five feet tall if that, but she has a charmingly disarming personality. She talked about a number of things, from the importance of writing every day to the wonders of travel and getting to know different places. More than anything, when good writers talk, it's a pleasure to listen to them because of the way they clearly enjoy language. When they speak, it's almost an ode to words and communication. That's something I have trouble with; my words feel like they don't fit in my mouth.

I'm going to see her read her poetry at seven. That's a bit backwards, I think: the poet should read first, so I have her words in my head when I listen to her tell me where they come from. But this is the way it worked out.

There's a terrible blizzard. They actually cancelled evening classes. We'll have to see how that turns out!