Thank Heavens That Day is Over!

The only good thing about Valentine's Day is that chocolate goes on sale immediately afterwards!

Today is, apparently, Singles Appreciation Day. Seriously? Why does someone's marital status have to be mentioned at all, on any day? It's no more pertinent to their worth as a human being as is the size of their left foot. I mean really, why do we care so much about whether other people, or ourselves, are single, taken or "it's complicated"? It doesn't matter one iota!

Days like Valentine's Days create a backlash by those who are single and think that there's nothing special about being in a relationship, or, rather, that being in a relationship shouldn't be held in higher esteem than any other kind of arrangement.

Thus, days like Singles Appreciation Day are born... and it's just as lame as Valentine's Day ever was.

That's my rant for the day.

I've been getting really, really, really bored not doing any writing these past couple of days. I think I'll go through and format Hunter today, and I'll likely start writing Overlord tomorrow. We'll see.

Maybe I'll just get lazy and do nothing whatsoever.

Trying to make this as short as possible, here today's Forgotten English.

Up To The Hub:

A proverbial expression in America signifying "to the utmost." The allusion is to a vehicle sunk in the mud to the hub, which is as far as it can go.

- Henry Reddall's Fact, Fancy and Fable, 1889

Valentine's Day

I was going to go on my typical, "Valentine's Day is the Stupidest Day of the Year" rant, but I thought I could sum up the entirety of my feelings with a simple image:

There are some funny gifts floating around these days designed especially for people like me. Check here and here for some.

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Celebrating the finishing of Hunter has been going well. I managed to refrain from writing all of Friday. I'm supposed to not write for the rest of the month and give my brain and my fingers a well-deserved break. It's not going so well. Already I am itching to get writing again.

A reader left a comment on the post announcing my small victory, along with a question. I answered it in the comments, but did so quickly and I don't think I answered it very well. So I'm going to try again.

I am so jealous of you I almost hate you! I've been through I don't know how many re-writes of the same story and it never felt right. Then I started taking Stephen King's advice and I'm gonna keep writing until it's finished. Anywho, CONGRATULATIONS. Would you be willing to share some advice on what you did or didn't do to finally get the job done? Fellow scribbler, Joanna

Thanks, Joanna. I'm sorry for my dismal reply the first time around, and I hope this attempt is much more helpful.

First off, Stephen King is right. You just have to keep on keeping on until you get the job done. You can change it around as much as you like after the fact. First, however, you have to write it. The best thing you can do is to just sit down and write.

I'll start off my list of things I did or didn't do with a disclaimer. Every person is different, therefore their approach to anything they do will be different. I have no formal training in fiction writing. I am simply an avid reader with stories of my own. Someone with a formal education in fiction writing will likely do things differently from myself. All the same, here's what I did and didn't do that allowed me to get Book 3 written.

Did

• Set myself daily goals. A word count that is small and attainable that will be the least you can do each day would be a good place to start. I am extremely fortunate that I do not have children, and I do have a steady income that affords me plenty of time to write. I tend to write between 11:00 am and 2:00 pm, which affords me an unusually high daily word count of roughly 3 000 words. To be honest, sometimes I just can't make it to 3 000 and I am forced to content myself with something a little lower. For most people (the normal sort who have obligations and lives...), about 1 000 words is a good word count to strive towards.
• Took breaks often. Some breaks were scheduled. I do not write on the weekends, for example. Other breaks weren't at all. Every so often on a Friday, I would sit in front of the computer with my hands on the keys and... sit. Though I knew what I wanted to write, I just didn't have the will to do it. I just couldn't. I call this "writer's fatigue" and I'm pretty sure everyone gets it every so often. Basically, it's burnout. I've done too much, and I need to rest. Despite it being simply sitting in front of a computer, writing can be exhausting work! Also, quite emotional if you are like me and happen to get too attached to characters that eventually up and die. I once stopped writing after 1 000 words because I was far too distressed over a death to continue for the day. It's alright to take a break! As long as you come back.
• Exercised! This is so important I can't even begin to explain it adequately. Exercise was what kept me from burning out more often. Sitting in front of a desk all the time can be very tiresome. Getting active improved my mood and my ability to think. Even if it's just a walk after dinner, get away from that desk!
• Celebrated much and often. I rewarded myself every time I reached my goal. I did a happy dance in my chair and bought myself some chocolate, or left my desk to walk around outside for a bit. Sometimes I really splurged and bought wine. Celebrating the small stuff makes the big stuff seem a little easier, and much more fun to get to.
• Allowed the story to flow. I've had many debates about this with fellow writers. This doesn't work for everyone. I used to be a control freak when it came to my stories. If it didn't go the way I expected, I fought the story. In every single case, the story won the fight. If I fought really hard, all I could expect was a protracted period of profound writer's block. As soon as I let go, and let the story do whatever it wanted, I found that reaching 3 000 words a day really wasn't a problem (most of the time). Of course, this did lead to a few, very emotional surprises. In The Great Man series I am currently working on, one character decided (of his own accord, I might add) to go into battle knowing full well he'd end up dead at the end of it. I was rather attached to this character, and fought the decision tooth and nail. Six months later, the story hadn't moved anywhere. When I finally let go, in three weeks, the rest of the book was written. Of course, I cried a lot those three weeks... Now I have had discussions with fellow writers who cannot write that way, and I don't blame them. They've often said they don't understand how an author can feel they have no control over their stories - they're the author. I believe that, ultimately, I am the author and I'm probably drawing from some sub-conscious part of myself when I write. All the same, it feels to me as if I have very little control over my stories!

Didn't

• Beat myself up if I didn't reach my daily goal. Life happens, and there often isn't anything you can do about it. I might have gotten a little mad at myself if I hadn't reached my daily goal by the time I had to leave the computer and get ready for training. I'd forgive myself just as quickly though. After all, in most cases, I managed to write a least a little something.
• Outline. Much. At all, really. This is directly related to letting the story flow as it will. When I first sat down to write The Great Man, it was in no way a series. It was a single book about the tragic life of a remarkable young man named Julian. When I threw the outline I had made into the rubbish bin and just wrote, I ended up with six books (four at first, then, just when I thought I had finished, other little bits of story flooded in, demanding attention, so now it's six books). I require only the protagonist, and the way their tale ends in order to write. Using the Seraphimé Saga as an example (it's a much better example, as I have been writing The Great Man since I was fourteen and the details get hazy), I had, suddenly, the image of a young woman in a sage green cloak standing on an ancient ruined plaza and staring out over a windswept Tundra. Beside her sat an enormous black wolf. Then I saw her having a conversation with a lanky blonde man who was obviously foreign to her. That conversation told me everything I needed to know about her. I had my protagonist. I sat down to write that scene (which occurs somewhere in the middle of the first book now), then I wrote the end. After that, I just let the story write itself. How it gets to the ending is really up to it. I quite like writing this way. I find myself continually surprised and intrigued by the interactions of my characters! That said, most of the writers I have networked with online are enormous fans of outlines. Many cannot write without one.

That's what I did and didn't do to get my books done. Do bear in mind that what works for me won't work for everyone. You need to find the time you write best, what surrounds you write best in, whether or not outlining is something you need, or if it detracts from the organic feel of your writing. It's not an easy task, but the best thing to do is to experiment and most important of all, keep writing.

There, I hope that helped you more. You're a champ, by the by, if your read through all that.

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And now here's today's very appropriate Forgotten English word of the day:

Opsit:

The word (from Dutch opzitten, to sit up) is descriptive of the peculiar method of courting which in earlier days was in vogue among the Dutch farming population, the duration of the lovers' evening interview being determined by the burning of a candle, which conveys a hint of the lady's feelings towards her wooer. Should she favour the suitor, a long candle is employed. But if not, she produces "ends" and he at once understands the his [absence] is preferred to his company.

- Charles Pettman's Africanderisms: A Glossary of South African Colloquial Words and Phrases, 1913

Humanity Lost - A Rant

What happened to goodness? What happened to compassion? What happened to understanding?

What the hell happened to respect?

Yesterday a report came through of a female police officer who was surprised-attacked by a knife-wielding sociopath as she exited a shop investigating an unrelated robbery. She was rescued by a civilian who saw her on the ground with this maniac attacking her.

Instead of sucking in their breath at the wounds the officer sustained (mostly on her hands. The wounds she sustained on her neck were superficial), people I know mocked her. They spoke of her incompetence, and how terrible her training must have been if she (a decorated officer) let this man (over 50 years old) best her. They laughed at how she went into shock following the attack. They rolled their eyes at how a cop had to be rescued by a civilian (never mind that the attacker was probably so focussed on trying to get at the cop that the civilian took him by surprise also).

I am so disappointed in humanity right now.

I was accused of turning their mockery into a "pissing contest" when I challenged them on how they would cope if some maniac with a knife jumped them unexpectedly. After all, they are trained Martial Artists.

My point is this, to utter such asinine opinions based solely on details provided in tabloid-style, poorly reported journalism; to mock someone who is in considerable pain, who was fighting for her life, whether a trained and decorated cop or no, is beyond contemptible.

Yes, cops ought to be held to a higher standard then every day folk. Every day folk aren't trained to deal with situations as members of the police force are.

However, let me remind you that cops are still people, people. Some of them let the power they wield get to their heads and become raging sociapaths themselves. Others are compassionate, intelligent and incredibly helpful people. No matter their disposition, they feel pain. They bleed. They have bad days. They get caught off guard occasionally.

That is not something to be mocked.

How they hell would the mockers know how it went down that day? How dare they accuse a decorated police woman of incompetence for one mistake, for having a bad day, for getting caught off guard. For all we know, she did everything right, it just didn't work out that particular time. Puncher's chance.

More to the point, no matter what training you've received, training is not real life. The gym is not the street. Kick-boxing in an octagon is not a street fight. A controlled training situation is not being jumped as you leave a shop.

Even more to the point, until you've been in that situation yourself, you have no right to judge how the victim handled themselves. Chances are, you'd be sitting on the curb in a puddle of your own blood, weeping for the shock yourselves if you went through what that cop went through.

Thank-you to the man who rescued her.

The rest of you can go jump.

Where have all the good men gone?