BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

With thanks (and apologies) to Baz Lurhmann for the original. Wear Sunscreen re-imagined by yours truly for writers everywhere…

This originally appeared in a comment thread on my Facebook wall, 12/12/2010… About 30 minutes ago, as a matter of fact. All because I was bored and felt like entertaining myself.

USE FLASH DRIVES

Writers and wordslingers of the class of 2010…

Use Flash Drives.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, Flash Drives would be it. The non-volatile redundancy benefits of Flash Drives have been proved by cataclysmic hard drive crashes, whereas the rest of my writing advice is really just a bunch of meandering, tongue-in-cheek humor…

I will dispense that advice, now:

Enjoy the power and beauty of the adverb. Oh, never mind, you will not understand the power and beauty of the adverb until you grasp adjectives.

But trust me, in 120,000 words you’ll look back at adjectives you didn’t use and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much descriptiveness lay before you and how great the verb really could have looked… Adding LY is easier than you imagine.

Don’t worry about the optional comma; or em-dash, but know that an ellipsis is as effective for indicating a pause as a semicolon. The real punctuation in your work is apt to be removed and then restored by an editor; the kind that blindsides you with revisions at 4pm on some Saturday when you planned a family outing.

Write one thing every day that makes absolutely no sense.

Spellcheck.

Don’t be reckless with apostrophes, and don’t put up with people who are reckless with colons.

Revise.

Don’t waste your time on head popping POVs. Sometimes you’re in one characters head, sometimes you’re in another… the story is what’s important, and in the end you’ll only confuse your readers.

Remember the good reviews you receive, forget the bad; if you succeed in doing this, tell me how. Keep your old notes, throw away your old rejection slips.

Edit.

Don’t feel guilty if you surf porn for a few hours when you have writer’s block… Some of the most interesting writers I know were kinky at 22. Some of the most interesting 40+ year old writers I know are still kinky.

Do plenty of research. Be kind to your editors, you’ll need them when you’re late on a deadline.

Maybe you’ll get a multi-book deal, maybe you won’t. Maybe your book will get optioned for a movie, maybe it won’t. Maybe you’ll be a mid-lister, maybe you’ll hit the NYT best seller list… whatever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either – it’s all a matter of luck, for you and everybody else as well.

Enjoy your first novel, and admire it every way you can… Be proud of it, and ignore what other people think of it, it’s the only first novel you’ll ever write.

Read. Even if you have no time to do it but on your lunch break in the bathroom.

Learn the rules of grammar, even if you don’t follow them. Do NOT read “How To Write” books, they will only make you feel inadequate.

Get to know bookstore owners. You never know when you’ll need to book a signing venue. Be nice to other writers; they are your best shot for a cover blurb and the people most likely to chat you up to acquisitions editors.

Understand that readers come and go, but there are those who will stay loyal no matter what the critics say. Work hard to fix your plot holes and make suspension of disbelief as seamless as possible, because the deeper you get into a story, the more you need your readers to follow along.

Write a chase scene once, but don’t let it overwhelm the story.

Write a sex scene once, but don’t let it become the entire focus of the plot.

Double space.

Accept certain inalienable truths: commas generally go before conjunctions, periods end sentences, and interjections don’t always denote excitement, but when they do you should follow them with an exclamation point, not a period or a comma, unless followed by another interjection.

Use interjections.

Don’t quit your day job. Maybe you’ll get an advance, maybe you’ll retain your electronic rights, but you never know when or if a book will earn out and pay royalties.

Don’t mess too much with your arc, or by the time it develops people will be bored. Be careful with your characters, but, be patient with their back stories. Character development is a form of mental masturbation, and nurturing it is a way of creating a personality, giving it legs, breathing life into it, and making readers believe the fictional construct is real.

But trust me on the Flash Drives…

More to come…

Murv

Long about the time the O-spring made her debut in this world – technically, about 4 months prior if you want to be exact – E K and I moved. It was a short move in some ways, long in others. You see, we didn’t exactly change homes, just bedrooms.

We live in a modest house, as I’ve said before. It’s around 100 years old, but it isn’t going to be found on any historic registries anywhere. Nothing special happened here, at least not that we are aware. I’m sure something special happened for the folks who lived here at different times, but nothing earth shattering enough to be recorded in the history books.

Anyway, since it’s relatively small, her supreme evilness and I decided that we would move out of the large bedroom on the main floor, and relocate to the smaller bedroom on the second half-story of the house. Why? Because babies take up a lot of space, believe it or not. They come in a small package, yes, but they require an inordinate amount of support equipment. Cribs, changing tables, mobiles, little Dalek looking things that are in reality bizarre machines that take full diapers and turn them into enormous, twisty, poop sausages. Let me tell you, I thought the thing was ridiculous right up until we switched from cloth diapers to disposables. It was worth its weight in gold when it came to disposal of hazardous waste, as long as your “poo sausage casing” cartridge didn’t run out. Trust me, that was cause for panic…

But, enough about the ka-ka…

The thing is, many years have rushed by, disappearing into the distance and making us wonder just where the hell they went. E K and I are getting older… Okay… I’m getting older. Apparently E K has the Dick Clark gene or something. Either way, the O-spring has advanced a few years as well, so we no longer have to worry about her toddling head first down the stairs or anything scary like that. We have other worries instead, but that’s another blog.

What I’m trying to say here is that we are swapping bedrooms again. The Evil One and I are moving back to the main floor – closer to the bathroom, if you know what I mean. And, the spring is going to have a “tween pad,” up and away from the “grups”… Or so she thinks – my office is still right across the landing from the upstairs bedroom and it’s not moving.

I know, I know, get to the point…

Since it has been better than a decade since any work was done to the rooms, we’re in the midst of updating a few things, and taking care of some of the issues one will have with an aging house. To that end, just the other day we were installing some new quarter-round, and other trim in the upstairs space where we had built some recessed shelves some time ago.

These days, one of the problems with trim and baseboards is that a lot of it is made out of plastic. This is okay if you have a nail gun. If you have a hammer, however, it presents a problem. Why? Because you generally have to hit a nail two or three times to drive it in, and when you do, all of the vibrations and impacts shatter the plastic. And so, this is what I dealt with on a very hot day. Suffice it to say, I ended up screaming a good number of expletives. Fortunately, it was just the cats and me in the house at the time.

Fast forward a few days. I had been forced to abandon the project temporarily since I had to fly off to a faraway land and be that author type guy for a bit. Upon my return, I was sitting in the office one evening – remember the office right across from the bedroom?

Well, anyway, E K had taken up the task of installing the rest of the quarter round. As I answered email I listened. From the other room I heard:

tap… tap… TAP… TAP! Clatter! Grumble Grumble… Sigh…

Saw Saw Saw…

tap… tap… TAP… TAP! Clatter! Grumble Grumble… Sigh…

Saw Saw Saw…

tap… tap… TAP… TAP! Clatter! Grumble Grumble… Sigh…

Saw… Saw… Saw… tap… tap… TAP… TAP! Clatter! DAMMIT!

I chuckled, which probably wasn’t a good idea given that I was chuckling at The Evil Redhead herself, then I said, “Now you sound like I did the other day.”

Without missing a beat, the O-spring chirped, “But I bet you used the word that starts with F.”

Kids. You just can’t fool ’em, can you?

More to come…

Murv