Happy 2016!

I know, I know, I'm a week late :)

Forgive me?

My right arm (the more dominant one) has been slightly 'out' of the rotary cuff for approximately 7 weeks, which makes typing quite painful, so I've been limiting my computering (yes, that is totally a word in my dictionary :p) to the essentials.

AAAAAAAAND, since my last post, there's been a lot of essential computering :)

Today/this weekend I'm hoping to finish the last fiddly bits of editing (3rd round! So fun!) on TRoRS before it's "done".

I'm not entirely sure how I feel about that... like, one small part of my brain tells me, "hey, this is a big deal, you should be freaking out or jumping around or something..." and the rest of my brain goes, "yeah, but SELKA & SIKKA, and JAY & KELL, and... and... and OTHER STORIES THAT I WANT TO WRITE!!!!!"

...and then I start watching documentaries on the Arctic Circle and make notes on things like white sturgeons* and the hibernation cycle of ground squirrels...

...Oh yeah, I have managed to restrain myself from starting the story that is not a story yet. It's still locked in a small corner of my brain because it will take a CRAZY amount of research so I can get things right and not piss anyone off.

(The 'shoe' story)

...and I'm not sure if 'the shoe story' would be considered YA because it does involve the world history of alcohol...

I am absolutely going to finish 'Afraid of the Dark' & 'Scarlight' before I start anything new. And, I would LIKE to re-work/finish the MG story I started writing, 'Left & Right'. I stopped because I wasn't confident that the voice of it was MG, but this year I've read several really excellent MG books written in a slightly more mature voice which gives me a boost of confidence that I can pull this off.

Other things I've been up to... Oh, I donated my hair again! Last time was 2 years ago, so.... yeah, I did link a picture here. One of the very few pictures of me online... Generally, when it's cut off, it looks similar to that linked picture. Longer at the front, about 1-2" long at the back, (because they pull it into a ponytail, tie it off, and then cut, so you get a reverse-bob) but THIS time, my usual stylist was out of town and... let's just say, I am NOT inclined to post a picture until it grows out. When it's straight, it looks suspiciously... mushroom-shaped... so I've been letting it just go all crazy/curly, and the first thing my nephew said was... that I look like a sheep.

Nice thing is, I have a large collection of hats I can hide it under ;)

Best part about short hair? It looks insane in the morning! Like, I stayed at my parent's place Christmas Eve and everyone started killing themselves laughing when I walked into the kitchen on Christmas morning... it defies gravity and I kinda love that :p

So, other exciting things for 2016?

Hmmmm, I'm planning a trip to Montreal at the end of May (which might now involve meeting an online writing buddy for the first time ever!!!). The next internationally-attended PAC (Porcelain Artists of Canada) Convention is there, and thankfully, since it's on the other side of the country, I have not been involved with the planning/running of the convention :) If you recall, the 2014 convention that was in Vancouver pretty much sucked up a year of my time since I started out JUST handling all the registrations, then got asked to handle more and more responsibilities until I ended up as Vice-Chair. It was fun, I enjoyed it, but I didn't get to see any of the workshops because I was running around the whole time.

And speaking of PAC, and responsibilities, something similar has happened in that, after the 2014 convention, I got asked to help out with the photoshop work for the magazine, which snowballed into doing ALL the photoshopping, then taking care of the national website, and now I'm the Membership Director for the 2016-2018 term, which means I'm in charge of all the Provincial & International reps and handle all the membership stuff that they send me and compile/organize it all.

It's fun, I like the work, but I do need to learn to say 'no'. I'm probably just going to take on the position for the one term so I can re-do all the old forms/organizational stuff that they've been using for years, and set up a PayPal account so it's easier for International members to pay, 'cause right now, it's all done by cheque.

Generally, that's what I'm good at. Taking things apart and making them more efficient. It's a dyslexic-advantage ;)

...and probably why I often get asked to help on various projects like that.

(all joking aside, it's really flattering that they like me, and the work I do, to this extent)


Hmmmm, I was going to post something on my Bailiwick site when I got my new place all done/organized, and haven't done that yet because I've decided I want to do some more renovations. Some I'm going to do myself... like, I'm going to put stone around the fireplace, and all the way up to the ceiling. As part of that project, I am going to visit this place and get some cool wood to build shelving, and maybe rip out the existing tiled mantle & put wood there. Or I might do some framing/drywalling first... we'll see.

I also want to build a.... very unique lighting system/design feature that's going to involve cutting down a couple small trees on my parents' property (yes, I have permission, this won't be something I do under cover of darkness). I have thoughts on the actual lights too... remember how I played with coating actual maple leaves in resin? They were meant to be throw-away experiments, but 2 years later, the leaves haven't rotted and still hold their green colour. Anyways... let's just say resin & paper & leaves might play a part in the design for the lights ;) Oh, and maybe origami? We'll see :) Experimentation is the spice of life :)

One reno I may hire-out for is, I eventually want to remove the crappy laminate flooring from the ground floor AND the carpet from the upstairs and I'm thinking about a heated resin floor for the ground level, and that's not something I can put in myself. I know, I've researched it ;)

But, that's a design-choice I'm not 100% sure if I like or not. Would love an excuse to rip out the existing baseboard heaters because I wouldn't need them with in-floor heating, and it's super durable (with my crazy beagle tearing around) and it's super clean/modern... but maybe TOO clean/modern. I may go the opposite direction and put in distressed hardwood flooring, which I could do myself.


And a couple smaller things, I'm planning at least one snowboarding trip (end of Feb), and will definitely be up at the cabin as soon as possible... maybe late March, early April (yes, yes, I WILL avoid accidentally-on-purpose giving myself hypothermia again) because it's my absolutely favourite place in the world to write :)


So, those are a few things I'm excited about in this coming year :) How about you guys?



* By the way, there's kindof a funny white sturgeon thing... Another story idea that is not yet a story involves a white sturgeon, and a white sturgeon shows up (briefly) in AotD... so a writing buddy of mine joked that I should write "The Great Sturgeon Tales"... maybe do another one set in South America or something.

...so, kinda like how a character with a 'J' name always shows up in my stories... or vomit jokes... or cat references... or... or... uhh, yeah. I will seriously not start putting white sturgeons in all my stories, I promise.

I move tomorrow! and writing! (and bad grammar!)

Well, technically my furniture moves since I'm house-sitting until October 2.

But still exciting!

I've moved so many times before that I've kinda got this whole thing down. I've got everything ready and the truck isn't even showing up until tomorrow afternoon, so I've had time this morning to get a little more writing done.

Writing... uhm, y'know how in my last post I was excited because I felt I had a clear view of the next, largish portion of the book?

Well, yeah. Then I wrote myself into a corner yesterday when a reveal that wasn't supposed to happen until the climax suddenly grabbed a scene by the throat and jerked it in the opposite direction...

...and when an apology might have directed the story back on track, Sikka says, "I'm not sorry for lying to you."

...which then made the already-misdirected scene turn yet again... in yet another wrong direction.

BUT, this morning I skimmed back to earlier scenes and reread over the dialogue/actions/body language/etc and... and... and...

...yeah, this 'corner' I have written myself into completely makes sense and there are little hints all along the bunny-trail that build up to this exact thing/confrontation happening.

So, it wasn't a momentary skew in this direction, the story has been heading this way for a long time and my conscious brain knew nothing about it while my unconscious brain has been sniggering and pointing mockingly at the idiocy of my conscious brain behind its back for being such a fool.

Ahem. And yes, I think they have medication for that.

Also of note: like the apology that might have directed the story back on track, there was also a really good possibility that this scene would have drawn Sikka & Komil closer together and been a major step towards an actual 'normal' romantic relationship arc... and uhm, yeah. Not happening. Or should I say, it didn't happen.

(I don't want to assume it won't happen...)

If I could write stories like normal people it absolutely would have happened because it's the right 'time' in the story arc for it to happen.

/tears out a handful of hair/

Yup, my brain is trying to kill me. Especially with this story. It's the reason I stopped writing it in the first place and moved on to other stories, yet here I am, coming back for more punishment because my damn brain is on a suicide mission and is trying to take me with it.

...and because I'm a masochistic freak who loves a challenge, I can't get enough of it...

SOOOOOO, uhm, yeah. Apologies for the probably worse-than-usual grammar in this post as 95% of my brain is currently dedicated to unpuzzling this corner-that-is-not-a-corner that I have written myself into, and the other 5% is mired in a heady-state of self-shaming.

Okay, not really :) But it's still fun/funny to think about!

Short update

Wow, the last couple of weeks have absolutely flown by! Somehow, I think that's a quality of summer, even though it's not like I'm in school anymore so I am not revelling in the freedom of vacation.

Maybe it's the heat? Melts the brain a little and time slides sideways?

So... divorce! Yes! It's done! I should get the final paperwork this week!

(okay, I am officially banning myself from further use of exclamation marks in this post before I poke someone's eye out)

Eva, my beloved and... always troublesome beagle companion... had a small surgery to remove a lump from her chest (nothing seriously, thankfully) and was confined to a cone-of-shame for a week. Oh yes, plus 2 weeks fighting with ear drops for a persistent ear infection. She gained almost 5 lbs due to the number of treats I had to bribe her with... sigh...

Berkeley knocked my laptop on the floor, which meant a trip to the Apple store + a new screen + a couple days forced-detox from computer-land. Don't worry, I got the crying & shaking under control after the first 24 hours.

I was out in Chilliwack with my painting mentor for a few days and plan to head back on the 24th in August to help go through stuff for the next PAC convention. This one is in Montreal, May 2016.

Editing more photos for the PAC magazine, new issue deadline is the end of the month, and I've also taken over the website related tasks. It was kindof fun to realize that teaching myself basic coding when I was a teenager somehow stuck in my brain enough to allow me to pop into the backend of a website I had not built and manipulate it. Good times were had by all :)

Most exciting thing of all? I've jumped back into the Northern Fairytale with both feet. I've been going through the 25,000 words of first-draft-ugliness and editing for consistency and logic (seriously, why did I ever think that deer would have already given birth to fawns in March? IGNORANCE, and I now know better) and have been tapped into a lovely collection of Arctic-related notes/research/documentaries for the next portion of writing.

Where did I leave off last time? Maybe you recall my (slight) obsession with crows/ravens? And a peculiar goddess/monster (or as she prefers to be called) a 'Lady' made up of an entire flock of crows?

So yes, Selka is back and hungry for blood. Quite literally. And my brain is positively buzzing with ideas, notions, and random tangents that might possibly intersect at some point and connect into a cohesive plot.

This also means Jay, Kell & the crew from SCARLIGHT are currently banished into the dark corners of my brain until a later time & place. Writing 2 first drafts at the same time is apparently beyond my abilities, not only just in the sheer number of tense errors flipping from past to present & back again, but due to the bi-polar war going on in my head hopping between a somewhat noble female character and a selfish, self-involved male character. Oh, but Kell? Parkour? So much fun research somewhere in the future :)


And while all this is going on, I am on the hunt for a new place to live. The plan is to move before the end of September, but so far my extreme pickiness is limiting my options. It doesn't seem like a lot to ask for to find a place with a fenced yard, room/lighting to accommodate 40+ orchids, a snooker table, 2 pets, all my porcelain/painting stuff, 2 kilns, a light table, my computers, books... ugh. Okay, you can see why this might be difficult...

Yes, the last couple weeks have flashed by... how are your summers shaping up so far? Any writing goals you're shooting for? I have been informed that Camp NaNo is not somehow related to a horror-novel plot and is quite legitimate. Any non-writerly goals? Moving? School? Career/drudgery? Family? Vacation/trips?

Query Blog Hop 2.0

Well, I had some great comments on the blurb/query for my in-progress YA Magical Realism story, so this morning I tapped out some changes.

Here's the updated version... it's a little long at the moment, but hopefully the stakes are a little clearer :)

I plan to re-visit the other blogs in this blog-hop to check out their updated versions.

Dear Agent

Already famous at seventeen, Jason (Jay) Walker is an artist obsessed with light, but unlike the Impressionist painter, Monet, Jay would rather capture the reflective ripple of scar tissue instead of a sunrise over water.

Too bad he’s been in an artistic dry period since his hot girlfriend turned cold. Jay’s been left with an unfinished painting, no model, and a tight deadline for a competition that, if he wins, guarantees a fat scholarship to École des Beaux-Arts in France.

He’s got a plan though. Twice a week he ditches class to meet Kell in the cemetery that separates their two schools. Through an odd game of trading scars, and a little administrative blackmail, he convinces a very unwilling Kell to be his next model.

Jay only wanted to capture light reflecting off her torn surface, but after he starts working, he can’t help but want to paint it all, every layer down to the depths of her soul. But soon, Kell starts changing. With every session his work gets better, and she becomes colder, her eyes duller, and her wild emotions flatline.

And he realizes the same thing happened when he painted his ex-girlfriend.

Jay is sure to win another award for his new work, but this time is different. This time, he knows it’s happening, and this time, it’s Kell. Somehow her emotions are being absorbed into his painting and he’s not sure if he’s willing to sacrifice her for a scholarship, cash prize, and press write-up. 

What’s worse, he’s not sure if he can give up painting, his entire identity, on the slim chance it might save her.

SCARLIGHT is a WIP YA Magical Realism based off the old superstition that a photo can steal a piece of your soul.

Query blog hop

I've been MIA for a few weeks... got back-alley-jumped by the sick-fairy who hammered me with a sure-KO-combo of flu, cold, and the feeling of razor-blades down my throat that required a horse-sized dosage of antibiotics to kill off.

BUT, I found this query hop today (my first real? day of being back online) and I love queries, writing them, reading them, etc, so I thought it'd be fun to join in and get some feedback.

And the extra cool thing about it, is it's fine for WIP's too.

Since I'm a pantsing-style writer, I honestly don't know how the story is going to end yet, so my query is currently a little vague, other than the character arc/decision hanging over Jay's head. That, I always know :)

So, here we go!

Already famous at seventeen, Jason (Jay) Walker is an artist obsessed with light, but unlike the Impressionist painter, Monet, Jay would rather capture the reflective ripple of scar tissue instead of a sunrise over water.

Bored with the overly groomed, emotionally-cold girls from his elite private school, Jay wants to paint Kell, or rather the scars she hides under long-sleeved hoodies and skinny jeans. Twice a week, Jay ditches his tedious Art class to meet her in the cemetery which separates his school from the public fine-arts school she attends. Through an odd game of trading scars, and a little blackmail, he convinces Kell to be his next model.

Jay only wanted to capture her torn surface, but after he starts working, he can’t help but want to paint it all, every layer down to the depths of her soul. But soon, Kell starts changing. With every session his work gets better, and she becomes colder, her eyes duller, and her wild emotions flatline. 

And he realizes, the same thing happened to all his past subjects.

Jay is sure to win another award for his new work, but this time is different. This time, he knows it’s happening, and this time, it’s Kell. He’s not sure if he’s willing to sacrifice her for another cash prize, press write-up, and the fat scholarship he’s been offered to a famous art school. 

What’s worse, he’s not sure if he can give up painting on the slim chance it might save her.

SCARLIGHT is an in-progress YA Magical Realism based off the old superstition that a photo can steal a piece of your soul.

I think I finally got her...

Stress + insomnia = state of delirium...

And... and I think I finally got Kell. Don't know if you remember, but this is the character that never smiles. I didn't write much, it was more like I edited a pre-existing scene.

(first-draft, very rusty since I haven't been writing in a very long time... so be kind)

“Tell me,” I say, and flip to a new page.

Her gaze slides off to the side, refusing to meet mine, but her face is slowly composing itself again, the tattered shreds of her calm exterior re-knitting. It doesn’t look easy, but it looks… skillful. Well practiced, but not rehearsed. Necessary. Essential.

“There was a fire.”

“An accident?”

She starts to shakes her head, then nods instead, a deliberate chop of her chin. Her wind-ripped eyes are tired now, all the storm in them suddenly blown out, exhausted. Beaten. She hugs herself, like she’s cold.

Then she stares straight at me and her lips twist, they twist into something grotesque. This is a smile, this is what a smile should look like, lifted corners, curved mouth, rounded cheeks, but there’s nothing soft or sweet here. Not a line or shape or shadow that isn’t sharp, festering, and radiating hostility.

Voice & Character Motivations

Of all the components that add up into a good story, 'Voice' is probably the one I'm most confident in.

Grammar and pacing are the two biggest things I struggle with, but let's go back to the whole Voice thing.

I love Voice.

If Voice is good, a reader can forgive a lot...

But there's a downside (or so I've learned) to being able to easily slip into the Voice of a character.

You can get sucked so deeply into the main character's Voice, that you lose the big picture. You can't pull back the focus and examine the other characters, see what they want, how they will naturally react, etc.

Your perception narrows to a single viewpoint.

Good for Voice, bad for plot progression when you need another character to move/act and push the story forward.

...and I wonder if I get too indulgent...

Especially when I read back through a scene and realize that I've referred to a very famous (and respected) artist as, "... suckling at the addictive teat of Jungian psychotherapy..."


Jay's no-filter Voice is... perhaps a little addictive for me?

...'cause it takes a lot for me to lose my own filter, and when it's gone, I really do say things like:

"I wouldn't climb into a stranger's van for candy, but if he held up a nice bordeaux, I'd hop right in!"

(This is why I should not ever be on Twitter. I am not to be trusted with communication methods that are not editable)


This post has a point, I swear.

I've been character-motivation-blocked in SCARLIGHT because Jay's Voice is so... addictive? I can't break away and figure out what Kell wants, and where I currently am in the story, she's just wrestled control away from Jay. It's now her move to call the shots and... and... and...


'Out, damned spot, out I say!'

(cue loud throat clearing)

'Out, damned Jay, out I say!'

(casually thwacks side of head to rattle brain back into position)


Okay, this is getting me nowhere...

Any brilliant ideas/suggestions?

Music, walkies, and one of those Eureka! moments

I'm taking care of my parents' house/pets/etc while they're out of town for a couple of weeks. One of the great things about that is Tynehead Park is (temporarily) within walking distance. I'm probably going to take my phone with me one day soon to snap some fall pictures of the park, which will appear on Bailiwick in the future.

In my stories, the contemporary ones at least, there are often a lot of music references. I love music, but never when I'm writing. I need quiet for that. I only listen to music when I'm in the car or when I'm walking Eva... and walking Eva is when story ideas bubble around in my brain like mad scientist's laboratory.. I think that's why music tends to show up in the stories (even though I write in silence), as they're connected to the moment the scattered puzzle pieces suddenly fit together into a cohesive picture.

So, today I was walking Eva (yup, the ribs have been staying in for the last week or so) with 'Black Black Heart' by David Usher (the faster remix, not the original) blasting through my headphones...

...and I was hit with a sudden moment of perfect clarity.

I now know how SCARLIGHT ends... everything with Jay's character arc, his relationships with Donny, Kell & Aricia. The results of the art competition, and the university/art school he'll end up in because of those results. Thankfully it will only require a few minor changes to what's already been written. Most of the pieces were already laid out like Easter eggs just waiting to be found (I really do think my unconscious brain is much smarter than my conscious brain...).

Even though I consider myself a pantsing-style writer, even though the thought of writing down story notes or (god forbid) an outline instantly turns the crisp deliciousness of a freshly plucked story idea into the culinary equivalent of wallpaper paste, I can admit that somewhere in the cracks and crevices of my brain synapses are firing and putting together connections that will one day spring out fully formed.

A little like Artemis, I suppose. Fully grown and heavily armed.

Yup, my unconscious brain can totally kick my conscious brain's ass... which is probably why I trust it to do it's own thing and don't condescend by allowing my conscious brain to do (stupid) things like write outlines... 'cause then the unconscious brain gets all pouty, bored, and wanders off to build new worlds in a dark corner somewhere...

Okay, I just reread that last paragraph, and I think I may be a little dehydrated/loopy :)

(forgive me?)

Hope you are all enjoying this wonderful autumn weather :)

Descriptions of colour, and a runaway tangent about eggs

Okay, now this is hilarious...

Now I'm curious to go back through old stories/writing and see if I've used any weird food references...

Since I'm not big on physically describing characters, the only story I can think of with (potentially) problematic descriptions is SCARLIGHT, but since I have decided on a pallet of colours for him to see the world in, if I have fallen prey to any food-comparisons, at least finding a substitute will be easy :)

Personally (in that linked article) I was hoping for a description using uncooked egg whites as a comparison... which, I feel, are one of the more disgusting things a person could eat. Actually, eggs in general I find a little creepy.

By the way, did you know that blood can be used as a substitute for eggs? Seriously... this IS going to end up in a story someday... I've been toying with AotD as an appropriate medium...

And yes my head is full of weird facts. This makes me useless at 'proper' small talk, yet it's incredibly useful at driving away people I don't want to have a conversation with.

Really? You want to tell me about the latest celebrity-fad-high-protein-diet you're on? Well, let me tell you an interesting fact about eggs and blood...

Works every time ;)

Characteristics of insanity

I know I wrote a post a while ago that touched on this, but it's happening again.

There is seriously a screw loose in my head (well, probably more than one...) that pops up in times of extreme busyness/stress.

When things are piled up so high it's hard to plan out a day, much less a week, my brain decides it's a great time to push everything aside and think about writing.

Is this a strange form of procrastination?

Is it a way to force a mental break?

Or is my brain trying to kill me in a slightly different method?


There are few reasons why I think it might be attempted-suicide-by-brain.

1) It's not just one story. It's all of them, actually. 6 major/full length stories (well, 9 actually, since the 'sort-of-trunked' one was a trilogy). If it was just a single one, I'd be more included to think, "wow, after a good rest/break from that story, I have gained fresh perspective!"

2) It's not just one change, it's many. Thoughts on TRoRS would require me to delete about 1/4-1/3 of the story and go from there. Thoughts on AotD, L&R, and SO would require a complete refocus of each story... too scared to calculate how much re-writing would be required (easily 1/2 of each story)... Thoughts on the trilogy would require rewriting from scratch in a different POV. Thankfully, at only 20-ish-thousand words, the changes to SL would be less... but it's also the one I have the least thoughts on, which means it's the story least worth delving into.

3) I'm still banned from typing. Even just typing out this post has my neck aching, a sharp repetitive stabbing in my rotary cuff, and the fingers of my right hand are starting to hit the wrong keys, or not move at all (due to the shrink-wrapped-fascia tissue in my forearm restricting the tendons that work the fingers).


Yet my brain is full of *ideas* that it wants to get out.


May is going to be an insane month, with the convention and all, so I'm hoping I can mentally sandbag/barricade this tsunami until June 1st.

...we'll see how it goes...

Switching voices and the first day of NaNo

My brain has been full of 'The Rules of Riding Shotgun' these past couple of weeks. I think I've read through the entire manuscript 7 or 8 times.

I re-read the start of 'Scarlight' yesterday to prepare for NaNo, and I already noticed a few things I'm going to have to watch for when swapping voices from the anonymous MC of 'Shotgun' to the cynical/bitter Jay from 'Scarlight'.

I wanted the MC to sound really anxious, so s/he has these really long run-on sentences that leave you breathless, and partially formed half-sentences (usually starting with 'and' or 'but') since I wanted to mirror Triss' car, the way it struggles to get going, but when it does, it's going fast and the brakes don't work very well. I know that's something no one's picked up in the story, and I don't care. It was there for myself, 'cause I'm, 'know, just slightly over-analytical about weird things :)

Jay, on the other hand, is really eloquent/learned, but he shifts fast between almost bored disinterest, and sharp, cutting comments/observations. He's a little unstable, but fiercely fighting to always seem in control. I'm thinking about different brush strokes when I write Jay's voice, at how different amounts of pressure and lift can completely change the depth and breadth.

The two characters really aren't that similar, and I'm pretty careful about giving characters different voices, even in their thoughts, but sometimes things leak in accidentally... and since I've spent so much time (lately) in MC's head, I don't want any of that getting on Jay. (See? MC's voice right there! I only noticed while doing a final edit/check of this post.)

Some of the 'Shotgun' MC words/phrases:

I swear
'cause
rabbit
any excessive description having to do with the heart, breathing, and/or temperature
jacked up
messed up
cranked
wired
any metaphors/similes having to do with cars/engines/driving/music
starting sentences with 'and' or 'but'
comparing normal/crazy
fight/flight instinct


Strangely enough, out of all of those, I think the "starting sentences with 'and' or 'but'" is going to be the hardest to weed out, and it'll have to be something I purposefully go back and check for.

Jay is definitely more biting/sarcastic in the way he notices things, and since he's an artist, he sees/thinks more by colour/shape/light/etc than by temperature and proximity (the MC has a really strong 'thing' about touching). Jay has a touching thing too, but it's a desire to touch, rather than an aversion.

One small thing I know now, after re-reading 'Scarlight' (well, the 15,000 words I have written of it) is where Kell lives. There was a funny, dangling little paragraph I had written at the end of the file, and I had no idea if it even belonged in the story or not, but it clicked... it's where Kell lives.

Now, of all the things I have to watch for, there are several things I know are going to be 'repeated', since they're in every story I write:

1) There's always at least one vomit reference/joke

2) There's always something about a cat (even just a reference, or something somewhat disgusting, like in 'Shotgun')

3) Tactile sensations are always very important, as is colour and temperature.

4) Now that I'm keeping that dangling scene, there's also a shower scene :) ...and if you were around back when I was first drafting 'Shotgun', you might remember that the shower scene was pretty much my favourite scene to write in the entire story. Mostly, 'cause it was funny. But maybe it was a scene only I would find funny...

5) I think the one factor that's always in any story I write, even in the short flash fiction pieces, is my characters are always missing something fundamental, something that makes them decidedly less human, or stunted, when compared to those around them. Probably my 'Shotgun' MC is missing the most (even his/her gender!), but finding the missing piece of themselves is always a very large part of their character arcs.

Jay is... hmmm, missing empathy, I suppose. He feels he's been betrayed & ditched so many times that he no longer knows how to connect with other people, and has no desire to. He's a little sociopathic when you get right down to it, but in a sad sortof way.

Yeah... I really DO write 'unlikable' characters, don't I?

Well, I'm going to walk Eva, then sit down and whack out my 1,667 words for the day.


How about you guys? Whether you're doing NaNo or not, how do you prepare to swap into the right voice of a particular story? Do you have a playlist, or re-read the last page you wrote? How do you ensure you're sticking with a character's unique voice and don't let another character's (or your own!) leech in?

Writerly update

First, I'm doing NaNoWriMo this year again, but will probably only commit to a half-NaNo (so, 25,000 words instead of 50,000). I'm going to probably make headway in "Scarlight", but I'm also thinking of (perhaps) re-writing "Left & Right" from scratch (after reading Patrick Ness' "A Monster Calls" I am sort of itching to get back to this), or re-reading "Afraid of the Dark" and seeing if I can figure out why I got stuck, and whether that is something that can be overcome, or something that resigns this particular story to the proverbial trunk.

If you're doing NaNo, and wish to stalk me, I am here.

Second, I did sign up for the SIWC, which is the last weekend in October. I honestly have no idea what to expect as this is my first writing conference ever. I'm equal parts nervous and excited.

Third, I am eyeball-deep in reading/critiquing a full manuscript for someone. Well, I should be eyeball-deep, but I'm actually only up to my ankles. I'm hoping to get it done by the end of the weekend... but let's just wait and see :)


Now, your turn. What writerly adventures are you up to? What goals are in your future?

Chameleonization

Yeah, not a word, I know :) Blogger is spectacularly dedicated to pointing out made-up words (or dyslexic-errors), with delightful persistent red-idiot-squiggles. (can you tell I'm half-asleep while writing this?)

A few weeks ago I was out with a friend, eating Brazilian food & listening to some sweet Brazilian jazz*, and during the course of the evening, I realized something.

I have very few things I'm passionate about, other than writing.

Sure, there are lots of things I like, or have liked, but it's on a casual scale. With music, I enjoy it, but I'm not about to commit a lot of time and money so that I'd be able to play it, or enjoy it, at a higher, or professional level. I played piano up to grade 10 of Royal Conservatory, I played jazz, I played in competitions, but I didn't love it. I enjoyed it, then I enjoyed moving on and learning something else.

One of the reasons I enjoy meeting new people, is so I can hear about everything they like, and why they like it, because then I can indirectly understand the virtues of something I'm currently unfamiliar with.

Also, I hold very few strong convictions, other than I think it's horribly wrong to discriminate, or treat someone else badly, for almost any reason. Respecting others is pretty much the only rule I refuse to bend on, and I'm willing to take any amount of flack, or a few bullets, to uphold that.**

The reason for having so few convictions is probably due to reading so much philosophy in my formative years. Very early, I understood that we, as humans, know very little in the grand scheme of things, and things we think we know now, could easily be disproved 5, 10, 100 years in the future.***

Even the basis we build our sciences on are founded on theories, which aren't actually proven.****

When people around me have strong ideas about the world, or about what's right or wrong, I'll often choose to argue the opposing view, even if I don't believe it, simply to get a better understanding of what others believe and why.

Belief in something that can't be proven, that fascinates me, just as the theory of gravity is fascinating. We know it exists, because we see how it affects us. Many very smart people have created theories, Einstein, Newton, etc, but we don't truly know how and why it works the way it does.


Now, I already knew that about myself... what hit me the other night was the understanding that my extremely malleable world-view is probably why the only thing I do have passion for is writing (and reading).

Because I'm not locked down, I can freely explore a wide range of characters. I can be a thousand different people, with a thousand different sets of beliefs, and know that in the moment of living within a particular character's skin, I will hold true to those convictions. Then, when the moment is over, I can slip into someone else.

It's the magic of words, of stories.

Unlike movies, where you're watching what's going on, with a story, you live it (or you do in well-written books :p).


Writing is slow at this particular moment, but for Project #6, it's certainly been interesting trying to live in Donovan's head and hold true to what he believes, even though it opposes my singular never-bend-this-principle of treating others with respect.

Perhaps it's okay because I'm trying to treat his convictions with respect, even though I don't agree with them.*****


Okay, that's enough weird self-analysis for one day...

Come back tomorrow for another Flash Fiction Friday!



* It's okay for me to be biased, my favourite cousin plays bass in the band ;)

** Not literal bullets, of course, but sometimes the figurative ones are more painful.

*** Humour my imprecise retelling: There's the old story about a friend of Socrates asking the oracle of Delphi if there was anyone smarter than Socrates, and the oracle said no. When her answer got back to Socrates, he laughed, and then investigated other people he thought were smarter than he was, and in the end, he said something along the lines of, "Other men claim that they know a lot, while they really know only a little, I on the other hand only know that I know nothing."

**** I trust no one is going to nitpick this, as I hope it's obvious I'm simplifying for the sake of making a point, not stating an absolute.

***** Yes, I'm aware I sound like a crazy person, since Donovan is a fictional character

Every word counts: streamlining

Okay, I promise this is the last nerdy post for a while :) This one’s the wrap-up.

...do I hear a collective sigh of relief? Yes, yes, here’s the ladder, so those who jumped in here with me and have kept reading can now climb out of the rabbit hole and scurry to safety...

(isn’t ‘scurry’ a wonderfully delicious/strong word?)

If I’ve managed to succeed in even the smallest way, I hope you can see your writing through slightly different, OCD-tinted lenses.

So, what about application? I’ve thrown eight looooooong posts at you, this is number nine (over 9,000 words and counting), but I originally talked about method, strategy, process.

I think the best way to learn to recognize, and rectify the amorphous ‘show vs tell’ is to write, and edit flash fiction.

Start with a 500 word story, and whittle it down to 300 words. Write a 300 word story, and make it 200 words. Take a 200 word story, strip it to 100 words. Write a 100 word story, and edit until it’s 75 or even 50 words.

Overcompensate. Overwrite. Yes, that's what I'm saying, and that's the reason I posted first-draft material as examples, 'cause I do it ALL the time. Every word counts in the end, but often it's easier to use many words until you've nailed down your point, then delete the unnecessary/filler words later. This is also a good way to figure out what works best for the voice of your characters. How would they describe/explain something? Write it three different ways, then choose the best one, and delete the rest.

In first drafts, I always circle my point like a vulture over roadkill... and only feast when I’ve whirled around and around, and I recognize the piece I want by its perfectly ripe flavor.

If you don't like writing flash fiction, or find it intimidating, you can also do this by choosing one scene from a larger manuscript, which is what I'm going to use here to hopefully illustrate my point.

This is also a great test to see if your characters have distinct ‘voices’ by removing as many dialogue tags as possible.

I'm not actually a chronic over-writer... I used to be, but my first drafts have become way more streamlined/clean from practice. Now I tend to start with very little information, and flesh it out later, which is how I do get myself into trouble once in a while. Janice Hardy had a challenge on her blog, so this is what I edited down to fit the requirements. 

I'm going to post the original first. It was 648 words, I also specifically edited out all swearing (I try to be considerate when it's on someone else's site):

(by the way, this scene is the second half of the one used for description/body language)

Then there’s a double-fisted bang at my door. 

I jump.

I breathe.

I wasn’t breathing until now. Not enough. I’m lightheaded. Blink, breathe. Eyes are dry. Hands, still moving?

“Jay, X-Box!”

Damn it. It’s Donovan.

He pounds again. “Jay, it’s already hooked up, so take off your lipstick and panties for an hour, and come down.”

“I’m working.” My hands are trembling, fingers black. God, it feels so damn good to draw.

“No you’re not.” There’s a shuffle and squeal as the door cracks open. Donny wedges his head inside. “Oh, that’s not the hot white chick you were painting last year.” 

Before I can dignify his incomprehensibly obvious statement with a response, he makes it worse by speaking again.

“Why do you have a Mexican in your room? Are you paying her in food stamps to take her clothes off?”

Blood may be thicker than water, but it’s not thicker than bigotry. The guy is a serious asshole. I’d like to say he grew up in a cult compound, had nut-job parents who taught him to fear his own shadow, or maybe blame it on generations of inbreeding, but that’s not it at all.

Donovan is just an ass, but at least he’s equally an ass to everyone. He calls me a homo ‘cause I paint, and his dad a redneck, even though my uncle is an accountant of all things.  Maybe ‘cause the guy drives one of those small Toyota pickups. I’ve even heard Donny call his mom a bitch, right to her face. Actually, I think he calls all girls ‘bitches’.

I know you can’t choose your family members, but I sure as hell believe you can choose to walk the other way when you see one coming.

Since it’s my house, and my workroom, this isn’t a case where I actually could walk away, but I put down my stick of charcoal and turn around. It’s more difficult than I expect to control the volume of my own voice. “She’s not naked, and she’s not Mexican, you half-wit.”

“She’s brown, ain’t she? That wasn’t racist, y’know, ‘cause she is brown, and anyways, I have the right to free speech.” Donovan winks and flips up both middle fingers. “First amendment, all the way. If you don’t like it, suck it. We’re in America.”

An instant migraine spears through my frontal lobe, and I’m about to yell at him again, when Kell breaks in.

“Wow, double-digit-IQ here knows which country he lives in. Gold stars all around.” She doesn’t sound angry, or even sarcastic. There’s amusement sparking in her low voice.

I manage a tight laugh. “Southpark here gets all his charm from from YouTube. He’s a sophomore at St. Anthony’s.”

Her lips stretch in that weird, not-a-smile way. “I didn’t know private schools consider geography an elective class. I suppose it’s considered extraneous, along with diplomacy and etiquette.”

Donny snorts, tugging at his blue and red striped tie. His shirt is untucked, his pants wrinkled, there are grass stains on his knees. “I’m taking automotive shop, not French.”

Kell’s mouth may not be curved, but her eyes are dancing. “I guess changing oil is one step up from making fries.”

“Hey, Taco Bell, go back to Mexico so Jay and me can shoot shit on the seventy-two-inch plasma.”

“Donovan!” I’m about to get seriously pissed.

But Kell leans forward, out of the good light. “Call of Duty?”

“Fuck, yeah!”

Then she’s off the stool and navigating the room like she’s twirling through a choreographed routine she could maneuver in her sleep. “You better bring your A-game, Butters, ‘cause I’m going to kick your ass.” She pounds a fist into Donny’s shoulder as she slips past him into the hallway.

He turns and gapes at me. “Damn, that kinda hurt!”

Then he’s chasing her downstairs.

Now, here it is edited down to exactly 250 words. I did it really fast, so I know I could have removed more, or been more effective:

There’s a double-fisted bang on my door. “Jay, X-Box.”

“I’m working.”

“Take off your lipstick and panties for an hour!” Donny wedges his head through the crack and sees Kell. “Why do you have a Mexican in your room? Are you paying her in food stamps to take her clothes off?”

Blood may be thicker than water, but it’s not thicker than bigotry. I know you can’t choose your family members, but I sure as hell believe you can walk the other way when you see one coming.

I put the charcoal down. “She’s not Mexican, you half-wit, or naked.”

“But she’s brown. That wasn’t racist, y’know, ‘cause she is brown, and anyways, I have the right to free speech.” He winks. “First amendment, all the way.”

Before I can yell, Kell breaks in.

“Double-digit-IQ here knows what country he lives in. Gold stars all around.” She doesn’t sound angry, or even sarcastic.

I manage a tight laugh. “Donny’s a sophmore at St. Anthony’s”

“I didn’t realize private schools consider geography an elective, along with diplomacy and etiquette.”

Donny snorts. “I’m taking automotive shop, not French.”

“Changing oil is one step up from making fries.”

“Hey, Taco Bell, get out so Jay and me can shoot stuff.”

“Donovan!” I’m about to get seriously pissed.

But Kell leans forward, out of the good light. “Call of Duty?”

“Oh, yeah!”

“Then I’m going to kick your butt.”

He grins. “Well, I don’t mind if you’re wearing lipstick.”

So, what do you think? Did I lose any of the essence of the scene? I lost bits of action, lines were simplified, explanations trimmed, the last line changed, but the voices of all three characters remained distinct. Even when I took out a bunch of the dialogue tags, you should still know which character is speaking.

Take one of your own scenes, and start cutting.

When it’s trimmed down, read it again, cut more.

Think about everything we talked about: description, voice, body language. Think about subtext. Can you use one word/image to imply multiple meanings, or to suggest state of mind? Can you add words from a description, or take away, to accentuate what the character cares about? What about body language? Can you express emotional/psychological/physical state of one character, simply through the observational skills of another character without ‘telling’? What words are you using that are weak, and can you swap them out with a few strong ones?

Now start adding back in.

Alrighty, that’s my process for new scenes, first-drafts, flash-fiction, and novels. Those are the main components I always keep in the back of my head when I write, when I measure/analyze/edit my own words to death, and when I critique my CP’s writing. It’s why I don’t normally do line edits, because sometimes there ends up being more blue text (my comments/questions) than black text.

Okay, this series is now finished, so what did you guys think? Did I miss something, or totally go off-base? Was there something that could be explained better, or confusing parts? I’m definitely willing to refine the posts if you have things to say/critiques/suggestions, or write a new post if you anyone has questions.

Was this helpful at all? I’m never sure when I skulk off on nerdy-tangents whether anyone enjoys it, or if you’re all rolling your eyes and wondering when I’m going to shut up.

It took about 10 hours to write these posts... about 10,000 words in one day (except the examples from SCARLIGHT), and by the end, it felt like my brain was skipping around like a carbonated wasp. I’m sure there were points where I utterly failed at clarity, if not managed to completely bastardize the English language. I expect to be strung up for my crimes, eventually.

Now, anyone who still wants a critique, todays' the last day to email me. 250-ish words only, please.

...after today, that’s the end of it, and only my CP’s will get to enjoy? my insanely OCD-over-analysis-editing of their writing. (Y’know, there might be a reason I keep moving... so no one can sneak up in the middle of the night and take revenge)

Oh, I've decided not to post them online, just to email them back to those who send them to me.

That be all, folks ;)

Back down the rabbit-hole I go :) It was nice having you visit the unfortunate, over-cluttered insanity that is my brain. Aren’t you glad you don’t have to live in here?

Subtext makes for some interesting math

The previous posts about strong words, the benefits and dangers of implied meanings, voice, body language, and description were all a way of talking about subtext.

Now, I know this isn’t true for everyone, but I’ve read some posts/blogs where people seem to want to create a marked division between commercial and literary writing. Often one side is bad-mouthing the other.

I’ve heard ‘subtext’ thrown around like it’s a dirty word.

Subtext isn’t exclusively for literary works, for MFA grads looking down from lofty, academic heights on the commercial-lit slums.

Subtext IS showing, not telling. It’s using implied meanings, it’s using subtle word play, like when the character uses ‘I’. It’s in body language, metaphor, description, and a million other fun things that give writing depth, and make it memorable. Chances are, your favourite scenes from your favorite books are packed-full of subtext. Remember this exercise I linked earlier?

Words without subtext are dead, nothing more than the bland combination of letters. 2 + 2 will always equal 4, but with subtext, it could equal 5, 10, or 23, because the reader is bringing in that added element themselves.

Subtext brings life, it brings breath, it brings volume, it brings weight and depth.

I’ve said, oh, so many times that I am sick of hearing myself say it, that I hate writing background. I prefer to write the implication of background, hand it off to my beta readers, and go kicking and screaming into edits... adding in the absolute minimum of background information so the story makes sense.

Here’s another rough first-draft snippet from SCARLIGHT, pay attention to what I’ve bolded. Also, since we’ve talked about the use of ‘I’, pay attention to where it shows up, and where it doesn’t. What does Jay notice/describe, and what does he ignore? Think about what the implied background is. What am I saying, not directly, but through subtext about Jay, his father, Aricia, the principle, etc?

They try to call dad. Of course they do. Of course he doesn’t pick up. The end-of-day bell rings, the halls fill with bodies. I ask for a box from the office and clean my locker out. Everyone watches, lingering, whispering. Even Ari slows down as she goes by, the buckles and chains on her Coach bag catch the dull, fluorescent light and transform it into something beautiful.

When I’m done, I march back to the office and stack the school textbooks neatly on the secretary’s desk. I sit on the sofa, the leather one which is dyed British racing-green and has mahogany-stained claw legs. The box on the floor, and my bag is on my lap. I could listen to music, but I don’t. I could pull out my sketchbook, but I don’t. I sit. I wait.

They keep calling dad. He still doesn’t pick up.

Actions speak louder than words.

I’m all packed up, ready to leave if they can’t do what I asked.

There are phone calls. School is out at three o’clock. Four-thirty rolls by, the halls are empty, the secretary is long gone, but the principle is still in his office with Dreschner.

He comes out only once to ask me if I know the girl’s name.

“Pink dreadlocks, green eyes. There’s got to be only one.”

He frowns, and closes the door.

One line I really hope you paid attention to was, “Actions speak louder than words.”

Look at the placement.

It’s not in the paragraph where Jay is making his very obvious point... sitting on the sofa with his stuff in his lap, not listening to music or opening his sketchbook.

It’s after the line about his dad not picking up, then is followed by Jay saying he’s ready to go if they don’t do what he wants.

What am I trying to say by placing it there, specifically?

...hopefully, you’re getting that Jay has learned this behavior, this ‘lesson’, from his father’s own actions. I wanted to link them together, so I moved lines around so I could position it in that exact spot.

Another small thing, I don’t know if anyone got, is the line about Ari. Jay talks about ‘everyone’ in 4 words. He takes 29 to notice Ari (his ex-girlfriend) slightly slowing down, and stares hard enough to know her bag’s brand, and how light plays on the accessories.

Description, voice, subtext: it’s often in what’s not said directly, but the clues are all there, if you take the time to line them up, and that’s what I mean when I say 2 + 2 could add up to 5, 10, or 23. Some readers love hunting out subtext, others would have skimmed the line about Ari and not given it a nanosecond of additional thought.

There’s no right or wrong, but I think, as a writer, I want to cater to both kinds of reader. SO, I don’t want to mire anyone in unnecessarily convoluted words to draw attention to the subtext and bore the heck out of those who hate it, nor do I want to leave it all out and leave hungry-subtext-lovers dissatisfied. There’s a happy medium when you go for quality over quantity. Efficiency.

Choosing strong, effective words allows you to keep subtext short and effective. One word instead of ten.

Whether I succeed or not is up to the reader. All I can do is state my intention, my reasoning, and my strategy for achieving it.

This is how I like to write.

Good or bad, love it or hate it, these are qualities of my voice, as a writer.

White room syndrome: Where the hell am I?

THANKS to the 'Like a Virgin' contestants & judges for giving feedback on my entry, and I'm happy to say, I made it to the second round! Updated entries go live on July 23rd, and winners are announced July 26th.

Okay, now back to the nerdy post...

When I read, or write, I like to see where everyone is, and keep an eye on what’s going on around the characters.

Nothing gets on my nerves faster than ‘white room syndrome’, when there is almost no description of anything. I get... turned around, confused, irritated. The thing is though, you don't need huge info-dumps of description, you just need carefully inserted tidbits.

So, another look at the scene from last time, yes, I’m sure this feels repetitive, but we really only focused on body language last time, and now I want to open this up to the wider notion of ‘description’, or observation... but first, a reminder from an earlier post:

The thing about choosing strong words, is that it overlaps with voice and description. How a character views the world is going to impact the words he/she uses, and the importance he/she puts on things.

Jay, who is an artist, is very quick to notice visual information, but is less quick to pick up on other sensory information. His frame of reference is going to gravitate towards art-related terminology, anatomy, light/shadow, etc. He is also arrogant, and entitled, so his focus is self-centered, and his actions self-serving. He can be very manipulative when it comes to getting what he wants.

I also mentioned that you should keep in mind things like emotional/physical/psychological state, how the character views the other people in the room, what his/her goals/desires are, etc.

(Small aside, since I don’t want to write another post: everything I’ve said also holds true for writing dialogue, and ensuring each character’s voice sounds unique)

So now, here’s the scene again:

Kell pauses at the doorway, one hand lingering on the frame. Only her eyes move, sharp, careful, absorbing everything.

Finally, she steps across the threshold. “You weren’t kidding.”

“No.” The word doesn’t come out as firm as I wanted it to. Maybe because I was holding my breath.

She glides through the mess, the stacks of oil pallets, the boxes full of smaller boxes, full of unmixed paint, oil, plaster, and turpentine. She doesn’t hesitate, she doesn’t shy away from the precariously balanced piles, she turns and moves with confidence, like in the couple seconds she looked over the room, she memorized the placement of every bolt of fallen canvas and protruding frame.

It’s not logical, but she does it. I pull the door closed, gently.

“Where do I sit?”

I fumble forward, bang my knee, stub a toe, but I get to the canvas. I heft the green three-legged stool over my head so I can maneuver it over to the window without knocking anything over. The afternoon light is still good, enough to sketch by, anyway.

She runs once finger over the seat. “Retro.”

My face gets hot. “It’s... it was my grandmother’s piano stool.”

“Ah, that’s why it’s so short.”

She doesn’t sit, she doesn’t flop, she alights. That’s it. That’s the movement I want to capture. That effortless grace she can’t hide with ripped Ed Hardy shirts and faded pink dreadlocks. But I’m not Pollock, I don’t capture movement, I want light. Her light.

I pull the canvas from my easel and prop a large two-foot-by-three-foot newsprint sketchbook in its place. The old mug with charcoal is on my left, and I grab a piece without my eyes leaving Kell. I don’t want to waste a moment of looking at her.

She sits still, but awkwardly. Her hands squished between her knees, palms pressed together inside the sleeves of her butterfly print hoodie, shoulders drawn inward. Her chin is up, eyes bright and defiant, an odd juxtaposition with her closed-up body language. She’s not looking at me, but at the door. She’s motionless, but you can almost see the desire to move slowly building up inside.

The light on her skin is deep amber, the same color as the flecks in her green irises, and the shadowed areas rich coffee with cream. The lines of her eyes are exotic, almond shaped, though it might be the heavy black makeup that’s making a connection to Egyptian kole. 

Almond, maybe that’s actually the color of the flecks in her eyes, not amber. More red in the mix than yellow. No, too much red. Hard to tell in this light. Later, next time, I’ll get closer.

Her roots are espresso dark, the hot-pink pink faded to the flush ripeness of a peony. There are no highlights or shadows. Light gets tangled in her dreadlocks, Escher-maze knots of intertwining color and light. A Japanese woodblock print of a tatami mat, Van Gogh’s haystacks, an entire season of fields in Carl Schaefer’s ‘Ontario Farmhouse’. Repetition of pattern, but not uniform. Not consistent. How to bring out the texture with minimal detail, to not lose the blurred light?

Hoodie, always in a damn hoodie, or long sleeved layered shirts. 

Hard to see, can’t get the shape of her body lines. Subtle curves, no straight lines. Breasts? There, small. Fits with the lithe muscle and low BMI.

Ten, no, maybe twelve pages already. Hands work fast, breath shallow. The familiar ache of desperation to sketch quickly, to capture everything before she moves.

A memory flits through my head, sketching robins on the grass. Pause, hop, then the whip-quick dive of their beak into the lawn to snatch a worm. Pause, wings flip out, legs bend, and an instant later, in flight.

One second to note and render the pose, maybe two. Fast, work faster to catch it before it’s gone.

Then there’s a double-fisted bang at my door. 

I jump.

I breathe.

I wasn’t breathing until now. Not enough. I’m lightheaded. Blink, breathe. Eyes are dry. Hands, still moving?

“Jay, X-Box!”

Damn it. It’s Donovan.

Most of the description I used should make sense, right? He’s an artist, he’s going to break her down into anatomy, what he can see, colors he knows, lines, shapes, shadow and light. The deeper his concentration, the less ‘person’ he sees, merely the sum of parts he’s reproducing in every stroke of charcoal on paper. 

I also wanted to ‘paint’ an image of his workroom in as few words as possible, rather than have thick paragraphs detailing everything in there, and how it was set up.

The robin wasn’t only a vehicle to highlight Jay’s fear, and give me a way to describe Kell’s body language without being too repetitive, the robin also gives history (he’s been sketching/drawing for a long time, and in much more informal settings, possibly for fun, rather that for ‘art/work’), it also introduces the idea of how difficult it is to capture/reproduce a moving target/model.

In life drawing classes, it’s normal to do 2, 5, 10, 20 minute poses, where it’s expected the artist will include a fair amount of detail, but it’s also normal to do 30 second, 10 second, and even 2 second poses to train the eye, hand, etc. to move faster, to be more accurate, to break down/replicate from a glance, rather than a prolonged study.

Like flash fiction forces you to use words efficiently.

From experience, I can also tell you that, when doing 2 second poses, you pretty much stop breathing you’re concentrating so hard. Everything falls away, you go into a trance. After a five+ minute stretch of 2 second poses, when we’d break, I’d be lightheaded, I’d see spots, or be unable to focus. Often I’d need to walk, or shut my eyes for a minute.

Every speck of your energy goes into focusing, and you get disoriented when jolted out of it.

You, as the reader, tell me. Was I able to convey that in the scene through the description?

So, what about your characters? What are they passionate about, what are they obsessive about? How does that change their perception, what they notice, and what flies by, unobserved? If your character is into music, he/she would probably notice/think in sound, rather than visually, so what would their ‘memory’ of the robin on the grass be? What aspects of that same scene would lock into their head for 5, 10, 20 years?

See how a single image, a robin, can serve multiple purposes? 40 words about a robin. That’s a lot to pack into very few words. I’m making use of many techniques to push subtext, and by using so few words, it’s actually stronger because you can return to it, again and again, without it feeling like an info-dump.

To spin a basketball on your finger, you only need to touch it a couple times to keep it there, to keep it moving. The better you are, the more it looks completely effortless.

You can get a lot of impact out of a few words, if you choose them carefully, and specifically because they suit your characters.