Right. My name's Vix, and it's Friday down under, and lor' bless those wonderful things called timezones since this guest blog post is due today, UK time. Hello from the future. Anyway, I've been editing a book since July, so when my wonderful host asked me to do a spot over here I did a lot of hand-wringing and head-scratching as to what on earth I could possibly write about before the little lightbulb went on over my head--bing! there it is--oh yes. Editing.
So, editing. Editing, editing, editing, editing. I'm not going to talk about weaving the perfect plot, or description, or characters, or any of that stuff. This is all about what happens *after* you've sent your wee bairn AKA manuscript off to the wilds of beta readers, editors, or simply let your gut (or whatever part of you that hurts the most when it gets punched) make the thing as perfect, story-wise, as you can get it. This is about the part that comes between that and you formatting the thing to go off into the world, with the idea that if you follow at least some of these steps, the amount of expletives you'll need to utter when you see the thing in print/e-book form will be markedly reduced. A how-to guide for the reduction of those niggling little errors I've heard many authors complain about after the fact, in other words.
1. Find and replace.
Wonderful little function, this one. Comes in pretty much all word-processors, as you no doubt know by now. Not just good for changing Jims to Jills, or vice versa, but also for picking up nasty little formatting errors like double spaces after periods, no spaces at all after periods (or commas) and so on.
2. Wordle.net
Found at http://wordle.net/
Everyone has those words they overuse. This is where wordle comes in handy. You copy and paste your novel into the box, click submit, and back comes a lovely little tag-cloud type thing with the most commonly used words in a nice colourful font right in your face. It ignores the "invisible words" like 'the', 'and', 'then', etc. I do one pass for the entire book (to get a good overview), and one per chapter, in case I've unintentionally overused a more unusual word in a short span of pages. If you see words like "eyes" coming up in a giant font, it may mean you're relying too much on one form of conveying emotion. The main character(s)' names popping up may mean you've gone a bit "Heathcliff!" "Cathy!" in your interactions through dialogue. Other times there are the old bugbears like "just". In general, you can ignore the smaller words--just pay attention to the ones that really stand out as being potentially problematic.
3. Text-to-speech.
Built-in on the Mac platform (Edit menu/Speech/Start Speaking); not sure about Windows, though you can probably download about 20 programs for free that will do the same thing (only one of which is bound to attach a naked picture of Bill Gates every time you send an email to your mum.) And if you're running Linux, well, what do you care, you'll probably write your own program to do it. Anyhow, sit back, relax, and let the dulcet tones of Stephen Hawking read each of your chapters aloud while you follow along on the screen. What this is going to do is immediately pinpoint any words you've missed out that your brain automatically fills in no matter how many times you read the darn passage, and also remind you that you wanted to say, for example, "revise" rather than "revile" right there. It will also help pinpoint repetitive words/phrases.
4. Hunt the Cliché!
There are plenty of trite phrases in common usage. But what about the really clever ones you come up with all on your own, the ones your brain looks at and says, "That's bloody brilliant, that is; I'm gonna use that again." And so it does. On page 10, and page 55, and page 103, and page 229, and-- Anyway, you get the picture. This program runs on Windows, so I've not yet given it a whirl, but apparently it's just for such an occasion (and includes your garden variety clichés), and it's free to try out for up to 20 files. It's called Cliché Cleaner and you can find it at http://www.cliches.biz/clichecleaner/ccinfo.html
So, these are some of the best ways I've uncovered to get a cleaner-looking final product. I hope you guys find it useful!
Bio: Vixen Phillips is an Australian writer of dark, mythic, confessional, lyrical fiction, and runs her own indie publishing project Lost Violet Press. Her first full-length novel, Trapdoor, a dark homoerotic love story, is due to be republished before the year's end, and her steampunk series is due out next year. You can find more info about her books at http://lostviolet.com/, or stalk her on twitter: @lostvioletpress.
Showing posts with label writing advice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing advice. Show all posts
Friday, 29 October 2010
Thursday, 28 October 2010
Guest Post - Writing Real Sex - Selena Kitt
This was supposed to be yesterday's guest post however my laptop died yesterday. A virus ate it and now it won't even turn on... boohoo. Originally this guest post was a two-parter, with Zoe Winters writing about "How to write love between characters." Zoe is currently on a sabbatical, and will be doing her guest post in November. Today I'm on Kait Nolan's blog.
"How do you write such hot sex scenes?”
This is the erotic writer’s equivalent to the question, “Where do you get your ideas?”
My response? “Hell if I know!”
I’m an intuitive writer. I sit down and I write. I’m not entirely sure how I do what I do, and when someone asks me to try to break it down, I’m often at a loss. For me, it’s like telling someone how to breathe. You just…do it.
But if I’m forced to try to explain how it is I get from point A to point B (I’m having scary ninth grade “show your work” math flashbacks now) I can do it. Eventually. So this is how I do it. It may not be how you do it, or how anyone else should do it. It’s just how I do it, and maybe that will help you, or someone else, get there too.
---------------------------
THEY’RE ALIVE!
Your characters are alive and they are not the sum of their parts. They aren’t measurements or hair color or penis size. I’ve done sex scenes without mentioning any of the above. Don’t ask, “What would my character do in this situation?” Let them act. Let them decide. Let them speak. Let them feel. Especially let them feel.
GET TURNED ON
If you’re bored writing a sex scene, your readers will be bored. If you’re turned on, your reader will be turned on. The emotion you are feeling will be conveyed on paper. It’s a natural law of the writer universe. (This applies to any scene, not just sex ones, by the way. If it moves you to tears, it will move the reader as well).
DON’T STOP
If you’re turned on during a sex scene, really getting into it, your fingers flying over the keyboard, unless the house is on fire or we’re under nuclear attack, DON’T STOP. Never, ever stop in the middle of a sex scene. (This rule also applies well to actual sex). You will lose your momentum, and it won’t be the same when you come back to it. Your mood will have shifted, and the reader will feel it.
LUST
Human beings want. Our entire culture and economy is based on desire. We lust after the things we want. We dream about them. We fantasize about them. We want. And we want. And we want some more. Our bodies and our brains are hardwired for desire. We don’t just eat once and then we’re done. We don’t just have one orgasm and then it’s all over. We continue to crave what we want. Our emotions rule us, especially when it comes to sex. They’re naturally going to rule your sex scene, too. We don’t insert tab A into slot B because we’re following a blueprint manual. There’s a reason behind our physical responses, and that reason is always, always tied to emotion. Remember that. Use it.
Desire is what makes the sex hot. Make your readers wait for it. Foreplay begins with seduction, not with sex acts. It begins with eye contact. Flirting. Innuendo. It progresses, but slowly. Tease your readers. Tease yourself. Draw it out. Make it a long, slow burn. The best orgasms are the ones we wait a long time for. It’s no different when writing sex than it is doing it, really.
DON’T BE AFRAID
Don’t be afraid of the sex. Don’t be afraid of the fluids, the flesh, the human expression of our bodies. It is what it is. Some writers will tell you not to ever speak of bodily fluids. They’re above all that messy stuff. Thankfully, erotica and erotic romance have come a long way, baby. We can use the words cock and pussy now, and I would encourage you to do so. I wouldn’t suggest using the medical terms, however (i.e. penis and vagina) or euphemisms like “member” or “sheath.” Cock and Pussy are good. Think of them like peas and carrots. They go together. A few (and I mean a FEW) other words can work for a little variety. Prick or dick for example. Or cunt. No, don’t be afraid of the words we use during sex. It’s okay to talk dirty. “Please,” or “Now,” or “Suck me,” or “Lick me,” or “Harder. There. More.” These are words we’ve all spoken (I hope!) They naturally arouse. That’s a good thing. I’m not afraid of cum – I’m not even afraid of spelling it “wrong.” You shouldn’t be either.
THE GRAND FINALE
Once you reach the point of no return, you’ve built up to the sex, you’ve teased your readers (and your poor characters) enough, now it’s time to give them what they want. This is not the time to skimp. You can’t gloss over the orgasm. (Or orgasmS). We all (hopefully!) know what an orgasm feels like. Description doesn’t have to be technical here. There are spasms and contractions, there is throbbing and trembling, gasps, moans—the combinations are endless. You can and should include those, but don’t be afraid to move into the realm of metaphor. Sex can be like flying. It can be like falling. It can be like dying. This is the culmination of everything, the point you’ve been waiting for, working toward. Let your imagination go as wild as you would during an actual orgasm. Let yourself free.
DEFYING THE LAWS OF PHYSICS AND OTHER MISHAPS
On a practical note – your characters shouldn’t defy the laws of physics. Women cannot take twelve inches of hot man meat down their throats. An average vagina is only eight inches deep. 44DD breasts cannot defy gravity. And if you’re using any of the above descriptions in your sex scenes, you need a basic writing course, not a primer on sex scenes. Also, don’t let your character’s clothes go missing. She can’t be wearing pantyhose one second and be taking it from behind the next. The clothes have to come off and be accounted for somehow. Trust me, your readers will notice if they aren’t.
---------------------------
So that’s it. It’s not rocket science (or ninth grade math). That’s how I get from point A to point B—from a blank page to hot, sweaty sex scenes. Really, it’s no different from any other type of writing. I don’t write sex scenes any differently than I do scary ones or sad ones or violent ones. It comes from a place within me that is beyond me, beyond all of us, and I think as writers, we all know when we have tapped into that place. It feels a little like flying. Like falling. Like sex. Trust yourself. Breathe. And write. If your characters are alive, if you live and feel the sex scenes in the story yourself, I promise you that they will also come to life for your readers.
"How do you write such hot sex scenes?”
This is the erotic writer’s equivalent to the question, “Where do you get your ideas?”
My response? “Hell if I know!”
I’m an intuitive writer. I sit down and I write. I’m not entirely sure how I do what I do, and when someone asks me to try to break it down, I’m often at a loss. For me, it’s like telling someone how to breathe. You just…do it.
But if I’m forced to try to explain how it is I get from point A to point B (I’m having scary ninth grade “show your work” math flashbacks now) I can do it. Eventually. So this is how I do it. It may not be how you do it, or how anyone else should do it. It’s just how I do it, and maybe that will help you, or someone else, get there too.
---------------------------
THEY’RE ALIVE!
Your characters are alive and they are not the sum of their parts. They aren’t measurements or hair color or penis size. I’ve done sex scenes without mentioning any of the above. Don’t ask, “What would my character do in this situation?” Let them act. Let them decide. Let them speak. Let them feel. Especially let them feel.
GET TURNED ON
If you’re bored writing a sex scene, your readers will be bored. If you’re turned on, your reader will be turned on. The emotion you are feeling will be conveyed on paper. It’s a natural law of the writer universe. (This applies to any scene, not just sex ones, by the way. If it moves you to tears, it will move the reader as well).
DON’T STOP
If you’re turned on during a sex scene, really getting into it, your fingers flying over the keyboard, unless the house is on fire or we’re under nuclear attack, DON’T STOP. Never, ever stop in the middle of a sex scene. (This rule also applies well to actual sex). You will lose your momentum, and it won’t be the same when you come back to it. Your mood will have shifted, and the reader will feel it.
LUST
Human beings want. Our entire culture and economy is based on desire. We lust after the things we want. We dream about them. We fantasize about them. We want. And we want. And we want some more. Our bodies and our brains are hardwired for desire. We don’t just eat once and then we’re done. We don’t just have one orgasm and then it’s all over. We continue to crave what we want. Our emotions rule us, especially when it comes to sex. They’re naturally going to rule your sex scene, too. We don’t insert tab A into slot B because we’re following a blueprint manual. There’s a reason behind our physical responses, and that reason is always, always tied to emotion. Remember that. Use it.
Desire is what makes the sex hot. Make your readers wait for it. Foreplay begins with seduction, not with sex acts. It begins with eye contact. Flirting. Innuendo. It progresses, but slowly. Tease your readers. Tease yourself. Draw it out. Make it a long, slow burn. The best orgasms are the ones we wait a long time for. It’s no different when writing sex than it is doing it, really.
DON’T BE AFRAID
Don’t be afraid of the sex. Don’t be afraid of the fluids, the flesh, the human expression of our bodies. It is what it is. Some writers will tell you not to ever speak of bodily fluids. They’re above all that messy stuff. Thankfully, erotica and erotic romance have come a long way, baby. We can use the words cock and pussy now, and I would encourage you to do so. I wouldn’t suggest using the medical terms, however (i.e. penis and vagina) or euphemisms like “member” or “sheath.” Cock and Pussy are good. Think of them like peas and carrots. They go together. A few (and I mean a FEW) other words can work for a little variety. Prick or dick for example. Or cunt. No, don’t be afraid of the words we use during sex. It’s okay to talk dirty. “Please,” or “Now,” or “Suck me,” or “Lick me,” or “Harder. There. More.” These are words we’ve all spoken (I hope!) They naturally arouse. That’s a good thing. I’m not afraid of cum – I’m not even afraid of spelling it “wrong.” You shouldn’t be either.
THE GRAND FINALE
Once you reach the point of no return, you’ve built up to the sex, you’ve teased your readers (and your poor characters) enough, now it’s time to give them what they want. This is not the time to skimp. You can’t gloss over the orgasm. (Or orgasmS). We all (hopefully!) know what an orgasm feels like. Description doesn’t have to be technical here. There are spasms and contractions, there is throbbing and trembling, gasps, moans—the combinations are endless. You can and should include those, but don’t be afraid to move into the realm of metaphor. Sex can be like flying. It can be like falling. It can be like dying. This is the culmination of everything, the point you’ve been waiting for, working toward. Let your imagination go as wild as you would during an actual orgasm. Let yourself free.
DEFYING THE LAWS OF PHYSICS AND OTHER MISHAPS
On a practical note – your characters shouldn’t defy the laws of physics. Women cannot take twelve inches of hot man meat down their throats. An average vagina is only eight inches deep. 44DD breasts cannot defy gravity. And if you’re using any of the above descriptions in your sex scenes, you need a basic writing course, not a primer on sex scenes. Also, don’t let your character’s clothes go missing. She can’t be wearing pantyhose one second and be taking it from behind the next. The clothes have to come off and be accounted for somehow. Trust me, your readers will notice if they aren’t.
---------------------------
So that’s it. It’s not rocket science (or ninth grade math). That’s how I get from point A to point B—from a blank page to hot, sweaty sex scenes. Really, it’s no different from any other type of writing. I don’t write sex scenes any differently than I do scary ones or sad ones or violent ones. It comes from a place within me that is beyond me, beyond all of us, and I think as writers, we all know when we have tapped into that place. It feels a little like flying. Like falling. Like sex. Trust yourself. Breathe. And write. If your characters are alive, if you live and feel the sex scenes in the story yourself, I promise you that they will also come to life for your readers.
Tuesday, 26 October 2010
10, 000 Hours
How many hours of writing do you think you’ve done in your life?
There’s a rule that says that to become a master of any field requires 10,000 hours of practice. The true greats, the best at what they do, the people driven to succeed, will put in this practice time. That’s what separates the truly great from the merely... talented.
The rule is based on studies by psychologist Dr. K. Anders Ericsson and was popularised by Malcolm Gladwell in his 2008 book Outliers: The Story of Success. The remarkable thing about the rule is that it seems to apply everywhere, for people who are experts in all sorts of different fields. Boris Becker started playing tennis at age six, and 10,000 hours of practice later was playing in Wimbledon at age 17. Maxim Vengerov picked up a violin at age four and 10,000 hours of practice later won his first international violin prize at age 15. Studies find that the story is repeated over and over.
What’s magic about 10,000 hours? Nobody seems to know. 10,000 hours breaks down to approximately three hours of practice every day for about 10 years. Many people who are truly dedicated to a craft (such as athletes and musicians) will start around age five, practice three hours a day every day of their lives, and begin to gain recognition in their late teens – 10,000 hours later.
Does this apply to writers? Sure, why not? If you want to be a great writer, practice writing for three hours a day every day of your life for ten years.
Whoa, wait a minute. Three hours a day? Every single day?
I can see you looking down at your keyboard with trepidation. I mean, three solid hours sitting at your screen every night? After you’ve already put in a full day of work (or school), you come home, you’ve got chores to do, you have to eat dinner, maybe have a bath... even if you cut out every other leisure activity, how are you going to find three hours of spare time every night?
(And that’s every night, remember. No holidays. No sick leave.)
Wait a minute, I answer in return, you mean you’re not already writing for at least three hours a day every day? And what’s your keyboard got to do with anything?
You see, writers are really lucky. Violinists need a violin to practice on. Tennis players need a racquet and court. Writers only need their heads to practice writing. And by a useful coincidence, we carry those everywhere with us!
Yes, it’s true, writing has very little to do with typing words on a page. Writing is the act of creation, and that all takes place [taps forehead] in here. And if you’re serious about writing, it takes place every minute of the day.
What did you do while you were cooking dinner tonight? I was wrestling with the plotline for “The Hell of Green Mist”. While walking at lunchtime, I outlined the backgrounds and goals of a team of super-villains for a comic story. The other morning a cute girl wearing a really cool coat got on the bus. By the end of the journey, I had a reasonable start on the series bible for “The Girl in the Really Cool Coat” (working title, subject to change). None of these things are written down. Probably none of them ever will be. But it’s still writing. In my head I’m sifting out what works and what doesn’t, learning from what doesn’t, and filling my head with ideas that might be useful somewhere someday. Isn’t that the definition of “practice”? I might not be typing anything, but still I’m practicing the craft of plot, characterization, world building. And I’ve easily racked up 10,000 hours doing it.
Oh, and this thing about starting at age four or five? Don’t worry, you did. At least, you did if you were a normal child. Even before you learned the rules of grammar, if you picked up a toy and imagined what it was doing... you were writing stories. That’s what children do.
So, now how many hours of writing do you think you’ve done in your life?
David Meadows lives with a large number of books on the North East coast of England. He makes his living writing rather tedious technical documents but his ambitions are to rescue a beautiful princess, have his fiction published, and become a grumpy old man. So far, he has realised all but one of those ambitions. When he remembers, he puts up some random writing on his website.
(He's also my favourite writer. And David, going by the title alone, you'd better write the Hell of Green Mist).
There’s a rule that says that to become a master of any field requires 10,000 hours of practice. The true greats, the best at what they do, the people driven to succeed, will put in this practice time. That’s what separates the truly great from the merely... talented.
The rule is based on studies by psychologist Dr. K. Anders Ericsson and was popularised by Malcolm Gladwell in his 2008 book Outliers: The Story of Success. The remarkable thing about the rule is that it seems to apply everywhere, for people who are experts in all sorts of different fields. Boris Becker started playing tennis at age six, and 10,000 hours of practice later was playing in Wimbledon at age 17. Maxim Vengerov picked up a violin at age four and 10,000 hours of practice later won his first international violin prize at age 15. Studies find that the story is repeated over and over.
What’s magic about 10,000 hours? Nobody seems to know. 10,000 hours breaks down to approximately three hours of practice every day for about 10 years. Many people who are truly dedicated to a craft (such as athletes and musicians) will start around age five, practice three hours a day every day of their lives, and begin to gain recognition in their late teens – 10,000 hours later.
Does this apply to writers? Sure, why not? If you want to be a great writer, practice writing for three hours a day every day of your life for ten years.
Whoa, wait a minute. Three hours a day? Every single day?
I can see you looking down at your keyboard with trepidation. I mean, three solid hours sitting at your screen every night? After you’ve already put in a full day of work (or school), you come home, you’ve got chores to do, you have to eat dinner, maybe have a bath... even if you cut out every other leisure activity, how are you going to find three hours of spare time every night?
(And that’s every night, remember. No holidays. No sick leave.)
Wait a minute, I answer in return, you mean you’re not already writing for at least three hours a day every day? And what’s your keyboard got to do with anything?
You see, writers are really lucky. Violinists need a violin to practice on. Tennis players need a racquet and court. Writers only need their heads to practice writing. And by a useful coincidence, we carry those everywhere with us!
Yes, it’s true, writing has very little to do with typing words on a page. Writing is the act of creation, and that all takes place [taps forehead] in here. And if you’re serious about writing, it takes place every minute of the day.
What did you do while you were cooking dinner tonight? I was wrestling with the plotline for “The Hell of Green Mist”. While walking at lunchtime, I outlined the backgrounds and goals of a team of super-villains for a comic story. The other morning a cute girl wearing a really cool coat got on the bus. By the end of the journey, I had a reasonable start on the series bible for “The Girl in the Really Cool Coat” (working title, subject to change). None of these things are written down. Probably none of them ever will be. But it’s still writing. In my head I’m sifting out what works and what doesn’t, learning from what doesn’t, and filling my head with ideas that might be useful somewhere someday. Isn’t that the definition of “practice”? I might not be typing anything, but still I’m practicing the craft of plot, characterization, world building. And I’ve easily racked up 10,000 hours doing it.
Oh, and this thing about starting at age four or five? Don’t worry, you did. At least, you did if you were a normal child. Even before you learned the rules of grammar, if you picked up a toy and imagined what it was doing... you were writing stories. That’s what children do.
So, now how many hours of writing do you think you’ve done in your life?
David Meadows lives with a large number of books on the North East coast of England. He makes his living writing rather tedious technical documents but his ambitions are to rescue a beautiful princess, have his fiction published, and become a grumpy old man. So far, he has realised all but one of those ambitions. When he remembers, he puts up some random writing on his website.
(He's also my favourite writer. And David, going by the title alone, you'd better write the Hell of Green Mist).
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