James Moore

It’s not the writing that’s the problem. It’s finding the time to write. Oh, I know a lot of people have troubles with writer’s block, but not me. Not most of the time. There are always a few exceptions, of course.

 

I know I’ve probably gone over this before. Hey, what can you expect? It’s one of the things that I believe is important, so I’m going to cover it repeatedly for as long as I’m writing these articles.

 

There are tools for any trade and that includes writing. Obviously you need something to write on, be it a computer or a pad of paper with a number 2 pencil. You need the basic comprehensive skills that allow you to read and write in the English language (or choose the tongue of your choice) and you need the drive.

 

But all of that is useless without the time to write. I’ve met a lot of would-be writers who lamented that they never had the time. Most of them were either exaggerating their daily grind or simply lacked the actual desire to make the necessary sacrifices. Meet up with me in person sometime and I’ll go into details. Understand me, I’m not talking about every writer here. I’m not referring to the occasional short story author or book reviewer. I’m talking about writers. The ones who live and breathe this stuff and who can’t get a decent night’s sleep because the damned ideas are bouncing around in their heads and want to be out on paper NOW and not later. I’m talking about the ones who’ve decided that this insanity isn’t just a hobby, but what they want to do with the rest of their lives. Because, and I mean this with absolute sincerity, anyone can find the time to write a short story. Anyone can scrounge enough minutes to do a casual examination of his or her latest movie or book. Not everyone can dedicate the weeks, months or years it requires to write a novel. (Side note: Yes, I said years. Apparently there are a lot of people who take years to write a novel. The longest I’ve ever taken was one year and that was a novel that was later broken into a trilogy and I was working on other projects along the way. But that’s me. I accept that some people might actually need years.)

 

It’s November. That means it’s also the time of year when a substantial number of people decide to write an entire novel in a month. There’re contests for this. I think the minimum is something along the lines of 45-50,000 words in a one-month span. I also think it’s a great concept. I might actually participate if I had to prove to myself that I could do it, but I have already written a 127,000-word novel in three weeks before. Not because I wanted to test myself, but basically because it had to be written that fast. That’s what I mean when I say there isn’t always enough time. There’s never enough time, because for me and most full time writers (yes, I acknowledge there are exceptions) it isn’t about writing one novel a year. It’s about writing three or four novels worth of words in that span of time. Those words may not all go into novels, but they have to be put down anyway, and getting behind on one project means getting behind on all of the work that’s expected. As I write this column, I am also working on two short stories, a novel proposal (collaborative), a novel outline (solo) and a novel that, in a perfect world, I’ll have done by the end of November. No way in Hell is that happening, but that’s what I’d like to see. Because I also have to get to work on an anthology that has finally been green lighted after two years of hurry-up-and-wait sales pitches. The anthology, by the way, is what I consider a “fun” project. It’ll eat away my time, and that of my coeditors, and we will probably hate ourselves for coming up with the idea and then deciding to actually act on it. It will pay us roughly nothing when you consider the editing time that will go into it and when it’s all said and done, we’ll remember it fondly and remember that it was fun to do. But it won’t pay any bills. Okay, it might pay for me and the missus to go to the local cinema and maybe even pick up a large popcorn and a cola to wash down the preposterous salt content. It will not, however, do much more than that.

 

While I’m working on all of that, I’m in negotiations with a few publishers for other projects that are either finished, or are finished proposals (Side note, again: See, a LOT of writers are smarter than me and prefer to write outlines and a few sample chapters before finishing a novel. I’m a moron and usually finish a novel before I think about selling it. Not because it’s smarter, but because that’s the way I’m wired. I’m currently trying to UN-wire myself or get reprogrammed, because their way makes much more sense.) I’m also doing edits, line edits and rewrites on several projects, talking with publishes about what extras they might need, signing signature sheets for the limited editions of my stuff, working as an associate editor for a publisher, dealing with an agent (Side note: Yes, I know, I said I’d never deal with an agent again, and this is a trial run. If all goes well, I’ll have officially changed my mind in the near future, which will give me more free time.) and doing my best to keep up with the market.

 

Oh, and I still have a day job. And a family. And there are health issues for a few loved ones that are taking more of my time than I like to think about.

 

People, I’m hardly unusual in that respect. Life can, does and WILL get in the way of your writing time. You can either deal with it or let it knock you down and keep you down. I’ll deal with it. I’m still not designed to sit on my butt and do nothing. If I’m sitting on my derriere, it’s normally because I’m either writing or getting ready to handle the business of writing. Now and then it’s because I’m gabbing with another writer, but mostly it’s the first two.

 

As busy as I am, I could easily point out a dozen writers who stay just as busy or even busier and some of them who are actually successful enough to only work as a writer. Most of the professionals I know also have another job or enough other responsibilities (parenthood, family or health issues, etc.) to qualify as second jobs.

 

I’ve pointed out before that I know a lot of writers. I’m willing to bet that at least eighty percent of them know a dozen stories about would-be writers who complain about not having enough time.

 

There’s never enough time. You have to make up the difference where you can. I haven’t played a video game in over ten years. I would love to. I don’t have the time. I’m not complaining, I’m just explaining. I could make the time for the latest Playstation system and game, but if I did, I’d lose writing time. Or I’d lose sleep time. Both are really far too precious to me. So, video games go to the wayside. If I suddenly find gaming companies asking me to write for them, then I’ll make the time, do the research and get my butt in gear. Until then, I’ll have to experience Halo vicariously.

 

Recently I pointed out to a writer on a bulletin board that I don’t post much because I have more substantial writing to do. He took that as a veiled barb. I guess that’s fair, because it was to a certain extent. His response was to applaud my wit and explain that he considered ALL of his writing, including what he does on bulletin boards, etc. as part of his career goal.

 

More power to him. Me? I still have a novel to finish before the end of the year. I’m getting paid for it. I don’t get paid to post my opinions on who was a better Superman, Christopher or George Reeves. (Side note: Nope, just an example and nothing to do with the subject that was being discussed. For the record, though, Christopher Reeves was the one I’d have picked as the better Superman.)

 

There are a thousand distractions out there. I find myself falling victim to a few of them almost every day. That doesn’t change the fact that I have deadlines. The distractions aren’t allowed to win, because they don’t pay my bills. And yes, as I’ve stated before, this is a business. It’s also my passion, which is a wonderful combination and I’m damned grateful to be able to make a living with it, but I wouldn’t be making that living if the distractions were allowed to take over.

 

I don’t have high-speed Internet access at home. I know myself. There are a trillion movie trailers, music downloads and pictures of cute cats in silly positions with amusing slogans out there just waiting to chew up my writing time and spit it out. And I’m just exactly stupid enough to let them. So, no DSL or Wi-Fi at my house, thanks just the same.

 

You want to write? Write. Don’t let excuses get in the way. Regardless of how crappy my day has been how much my feet hurt from being on them at the day job or how strained my eyes are from reading and dealing with computer screens, I still have deadlines and I take care of those before I take care of sleep. There are a lot of writers on this board (go figure) and I bet most of them would agree with me about how to make the time for writing.

 

Remember how I always say get paid for the work you’re doing? That’s why. Because you’re working. You’re giving up free time and video games or that concert you really, really wanted to go to. You have to sacrifice bowling night with your buddies, or you decided you could wait to see the latest James Bond movie. You made the time. You worked it out and busted your rear end to get it done and that means you deserve to be paid for your hard work (With the standard provisos: It doesn’t suck, you managed to get a publisher who wants it, you are fulfilling a contractual agreement, etc.).

 

All work and no play may make me a dull boy, but it also puts bread on the table. Later. I can relax later. Right now, there are deadlines.

 

And I couldn’t be happier about it.

 

James A. Moore

Okay, we’ve gone over the basics of starting a novel. I can’t write it for you (Well, I could, but you wouldn’t want to pay that much and really, what’s the fun of having someone else doing  the work and taking all the credit?) so at some point the odds are good you’re going to start writing.

  That means that sooner or later the complications are going to kick in. Oh, I’m the first to admit that life is complicated enough, but I’m not talking about your life here, I’m talking about the life of your baby. You’re novel, unless you are amazingly lucky or exceptionally skilled, is going to hit a snag somewhere along the way. It’s seldom at the beginning, at least not for me. Hell, by the time I let myself get started on a novel most of the tale is plotted in my skull and written except for the pesky typing part.  

Everything is going along smoothly, you’ve introduced your characters, you’ve established the foundation of the plot, you’ve got the sets all painted and ready for your use and your adrenaline is kicked up a few notches, assuring that you can write to your heart’s content. Heck, you’re so with it you’ve already arranged that minimum of an hour where everyone knows to leave you alone and you’re already too damned disciplined to let the internet distract you TOO much, aren’t you? 

Ten thousand words into your novel and all is well. Twenty thousand, and this is starting to feel easy.  Right around thirty thousand words, closing in on the halfway mark, and suddenly, the first seeds of doubt take root. 35,000 and now you’re wondering if you forgot some crucial plot points along the way. Or maybe, you should have worked in a few more characters and a half a dozen more subplots… 

It’s hard to say what, but something is missing. How do you know? Because the story has progressed far too fast for your satisfaction and at best this feels like it’s going to be a novella.

 Well, my answer to that is easy: Let it be a novella.  

But Jim, how can I sell a novella to the big New York publishers?

 It’s possible. Not probable, but it does happen. Norm Partridge recently managed it with his amazing novella Dark Harvest. Of course, it’s far more likely that you won’t sell it to the big New York publishers. Say thank you to all of those small presses, won’t you? There you go. 

Oh, wait, you’re here because of rumors that I might actually have wisdom to impart. Apparently you haven’t caught on that I’m bluffing. So, let’s look at the question a second time.

 How, oh allegedly wise one, can I fix this problem, keeping in mind that I’m writing a novel and not a novella? 

Well, if you insist on not making it a novella, let’s go ahead and look at the potential problems. First and foremost for me, I only seem to run across that sort of problem when I’ve done a detailed outline. That is, for the record, one of the reasons I don’t normally do detailed outlines. They hinder me too much.  So if that’s the case, consider coloring outside the lines. Oh, you know you want to. You’re allowed to you know, because it’s your novel, no one else’s. Write it for you.

 While I remain firm in my belief that going back and editing a novel in progress is a surefire way to lose momentum and in a lot of cases will actually kill the novel before its time is due, you might want to go back and read it. Not edit it, but read it.  You may be as critical as you desire, but there’s a decent chance that you’ve already put in a few situations that you might want to explore regarding your characters and their situations.

 Listen, let me put it another way: How many times have you read a book and wondered why the author didn’t actually go back and examine a subplot that was left unresolved? Well, if it was one of mine, the odds are good you ran across several of them, but in my case they’re normally deliberate. They might be deliberate for other writers, too, but then again they might be undeveloped notions that the author forgot about. It happens and it happens a lot. Part of breathing life into your characters is giving them issues that have not been resolved. Part of that, for me, is leaving a few of those issues unresolved because remarkably little in life can be wrapped up in a neat package.

 Is Don, Our Hero, having an ongoing argument with his neighbor, Lou, who likes to play his radio too loud, tends to put his garbage in Don’s trashcans and throws rocks at Don’s cat every time the cat gets out? Like as not that won’t be resolved in the course of the story, but it can be, if you decide to examine that aspect of Don’s life more carefully.

 What about Amy, who has very real affection for Don but still hasn’t resolved her feelings for Jared, the misunderstood, slightly possessive and almost recovering alcoholic ex-con she recently swore never to deal with again (It would be easier if he didn’t seem so nice when he’s sober)? Well, right now that’s just something that gets resolved in the final scenes when she decides that she can’t take Jared’s lies anymore. But what if Jared is the jealous type? What if he’s the insanely jealous type who was actually locked away for a very good reason and lied about it when he said he’d stolen a car when he was younger and dumber? What if Jared is the sort who feels the need to stalk a woman who doesn’t want to be with him anymore, or hell, for that matter, what if he’s the sort who doesn’t see a problem with shanking that annoying new boyfriend to get his way?

 See my point? There’s a reason for developing the characters before you start a novel. There’s a reason for letting them evolve. Not every idea has to be explored, but if you’re anything like me (And God help you) then the odds are good you’ve already written in a dozen different aspects of your characters’ lives that are potentially goldmines of disaster waiting to happen.

 Now, let’s look at that plot for a moment, shall we? Yes, I get it. There’s a ghost in the house. Yes, the ghost would like Don to move away immediately but Don can’t afford that nonsense and if he wants to inherit his Uncle Wilford’s family fortune he has to stay in the new house for at least one year. What? That’s it? There’s no one else who could be working on the sidelines to get the family fortune instead? There’s no else out there that might have a reason for haunting the house? Are you sure it’s a ghost? Are you absolutely positive there’s only one?  I mean, what about Don’s half-sister? You know, the one he’s never gotten along with all that well? The one who hates him because of some dark, sordid event in their pasts (Pick a dark, sordid event)? What about the rumors that there are hidden catacombs under the house? You know, the ones where that crazy great, great grand uncle was supposed to have been doing evil and unmentionable experiments?  

Do you see what I’m getting at here? Nothing has to be straightforward. Hell, as a reader and a writer both, straightforward is just about as boring as white rice. You should make sure you stay coherent, and make sure you never, ever forget the points you’re trying to make with your novel, but there’s nothing at all to stop you from having a good time while you’re getting there. Don’t misunderstand me. It’s distinctly possible your editor will come along later and ask you to cut something, but that’s a different discussion for a different day.

   James A. Moore