Silk & Shadows

One of the sage pieces of advice big writers give to little writers runs along the lines of, “Luke, even without dialogue tags, the reader should know who speaking is. The voices of your characters unique should be.” And, if you listen to short, big-eared puppets in martial arts bathrobes, you should drink less.

Anyhow, the unique character voice should also extend to something called “deep point of view,” but that’s for another day of writerly geekdom. For now, the spoken word is problem enough. I’ve had to go back and rewrite passages to make characters sound consistent because it’s hard for one’s own voice to stay out of the mix. It helps to rehearse a passage in your head before writing it, getting the speech pattern of your characters clearly “in your ear.” And, although it sounds mechanical, it helps to decide in advance what verbal ticks they might have and remember to (sparingly) put them in.

But how should one decide what they are? Research. Observation. What makes a person speak the way they do? Gender, occupation, education, and personality all play a role. So does state of mind—even when communicating about a very bland issue.

Consider this exchange about a budget problem:

Him: Are you forecasting anything in line XXX and if so, how much?

Her: This one is a bit of a puzzle for obvious reasons. So far we’ve spent about $XX, but my expectation is that the next quarter’s “rebate” rate will be more realistic since it won’t be based on April. My expectation is that future months will be closer to zero.

Him: But are you forecasting anything?

Her: I’m forecasting the year to date spent

Him: # please as in your last forecast submission?

She’s answering his question, but the way she views the information is obviously very different. Often women will give more context than a man because (according to armchair psychology) the female perspective is far more general than linear. It may appear unfocussed, but really she’s just taking more factors and influences into account. The number isn’t the issue. What it means is.

How we communicate has a lot to do with how we see the world around us. Is it absolute, or is it conditional on a lot of gray areas? What’s going on in the speaker’s mind while they’re talking?

This is a scene from Unchained, between Reynard, an immortal guard, and Ashe, a modern slayer. She’s just lost her job for staking a vampire in the workplace.

She’s worried because she’s unemployed and trying to raise her daughter single-handed. He’s worried because his soul has gone missing and he has to find it before he dies. If he finds it, he must return to his dark and dreary dungeon and leave Ashe behind. They’ve just kissed for the first time—and it wasn’t something they planned on.

I picked this example because a) it shows how I had to keep a modern and a historical character sounding distinct and b) neither is a “talky” person, so their actual dialogue is very economical, despite the amount going on behind the words. Reynard hasn’t sworn much up until this point, but now he’s pushed over the edge.

“Where are you going?” Reynard asked. He stood in the staff room doorway, arms crossed, a bandage around one wrist to cover the vampire bite. He wasn’t quite slouching—his posture was relentlessly upright—but the casual clothes made him look more relaxed. Or maybe that was just the buzz from a touch of after-stake snogging.

Ashe didn’t reply at once, but kept stuffing all the junk she’d left in the staff room over the last couple of months in a plastic bag. It gave her an excuse not to look at him. She wasn’t embarrassed by the kiss, but it raised some questions she wasn’t ready to deal with at the moment. The embrace had jolted something in her awake. Something she didn’t even want to go back to sleep.

Mixed up with confusion and worry and stress, it wasn’t a comfortable feeling. Still, the kiss had been . . . wow.

“It was the venom,” Reynard said. “I apologize.”

He sounded more satisfied than sorry.

“Yeah, okay.” Ashe opened the fridge, checked the shelves for comfort food worth stealing. “The venom made you do it.”

Goddess! Ashe couldn’t keep on thinking about that kiss on an empty stomach. The memory made her dizzy enough as it was. It was taking all her resolve not to throw him on the staff room table and repeat the error of their ways—common sense, motherhood, and sanity be damned. And he had the gall to apologize, like he’d dinged her bumper. Ooh, bad metaphor.

“Is there a different apology that would please you better?” Sarcastic, this time.

“No woman likes to hear she was kissed due to a lapse of judgment.”

“Blast it, Ashe!” Reynard was suddenly next to her. He grabbed her wrist, his casual strength nearly enough to lift her off her feet. “Listen to me.”

Ashe stared into his eyes, letting her anger show. No one handled her like that and kept his fingers. “What?”

He bared his teeth, a gesture between a grimace and a snarl. “Don’t you see? If I felt the venom, I’m losing the powers that being a guardsman give me. I’m separated from my life force. I’m starting to fade.”

She expected to see fear in his storm-colored eyes, but instead there was furious defiance. She knew what that rage felt like. It had been riding her when she staked her first vampire.

“Then you don’t have much time left,” she said, fear filling her mouth with a sour, metallic tang.

“I don’t have much life left.” He let go of her wrist, stepped back. “I shouldn’t have kissed you, but I bloody enjoyed it.”

That sounded honest. She shut the fridge. “Forgiven.”

He held her gaze intently, as if he were willing her to understand. “I have to work fast, before I decide to hell with spending eternity in a dungeon. I am far too tempted to live while I can. It’s a poor choice between death and eternal darkness.”

The starkness of his words took her breath away. Her tongue went thick and dry. “I said I’d help you. You’re going to live if I have to take you back to Mac drunk in a wheelbarrow with your urn strapped to your forehead.”

“That’s a charming image.”

“I play rough.”

I’m always a bit uncomfortable giving other writers how-to advice, because I’m convinced there’s no right way to do anything. But I did learn a few things about dialog along the path to publication, so I’ll share what I discovered:

Tip #1: Characters sometimes lie.

And I’m not talking about the villain–even our hero and heroine can have reasons for prevaricating. Especially when the conversation is treading on emotional ground, or they need to throw another character off track. It took me a while to realize this could be a valuable dialog tool. Test it out. Next time someone asks your character a question, have him or her lie and see what happens.

Tip #2: Characters often skip details when they talk.

Guys especially. The guy-speak response to many questions is one word. But even women don’t blurt out every detail, unless they’re upset. It takes too long. Look for ways to shorthand the conversation. Sometimes, a conversation’s real power lies in what doesn’t get said.

Tip #3: Characters like to torture each other with words.

When you’ve got two characters in a room and there’s an uncomfortable topic hanging over their heads, don’t avoid it. Have one of the characters use it to bludgeon the other. Draw blood. Torture is good for your character’s soul. Personally, I find the Big Misunderstanding to be far less entertaining than letting the characters duke it out.

Currently working on: Book 4
Mood: Bruised

So I’m almost done with Book 4 and I’m looking over the accumulating stack of pages and sometimes I think the hardest part of writing a novel is JUST GETTING WORDS ON THE PAGE.

There are sooo many pages, and those pages need soooooo many words. How do you fill them up?

In a word: dialogue.

Dialogue takes up a lot of white space.  Man, you should see how quickly a blank page gets covered when the hero and heroine are bantering. Kissing is great but doesn’t need as many paragraph breaks. For an example:

In Marked Souls #3 (April 2011), VOWED IN SHADOWS, the hero Jonah has just introduced heroine Nim to a feralis — the nasty, hulking monstrosities that skulk through Chicago’s demon-haunted underbelly.  By way of introduction, Jonah has garroted the feralis with a hook through the throat.

Nim swallowed against the sour tang of bile. “What is it?”

“It’s a demon.”

“I thought you said the demons were in us.”

“The teshuva–the repentant demons–are. This is an impenitent demon, escaped from the tenebraeternum to wreak havoc in this realm.” He twisted the hook and another flow of black liquid gushed from the creature’s throat.

She put her hand over her mouth. “Stop it.”

“You want me to let it go?”

“No!”

“Do you believe in demons now?”

“Yes.” Her voice sounded ragged from the screaming. When he just stared at her, she said more shrilly, “Yes. How can I not?”

“You’d be surprised what people will ignore, even when it’s right in front of them.”

“I believe it’s bleeding on me.”

That’s half a page, quickly filled, with only minimal pain and angst; on my part at least.

Tip #1 for writing dialogue
Listen to real people talking.

Anything you say can and will be used against you by a writer.  Writers are shameless eavesdroppers.  We tell ourselves that it’s “research,” and thus excusable. But learning to write dialogue is so important for us that the eavesdropped-upon people should excuse us too. 

While it’s true I’ve never heard real people having that particular conversation above, I imagine that’s kinda how it would go: fast, raw, a little panicky.  It’s similar to how I sound when people try to hand me a baby.  So it was easy to adapt for demons.

Tip #2 for writing dialogue
Dialogue should be entertaining and easy.

Or I should say, well-written dialogue should be entertaining and easy. For the reader.  For the writer, well-written dialogue can be like pulling teeth.  It’s like pulling teeth and then capping the teeth to make them stronger and more attractive.  Maybe even sharpening the teeth — vampire style — so they have good bite.  So it’s like pulling, capping, and sharpening teeth, and then pounding the much improved version back into the bloody holes. 

Sorry, I’m obviously feeling violent today, but dialogue has that effect on me.  Well-written dialogue has to do so much that I don’t care be casual with it.  Good dialogue has to be:

1. Important
2. Interesting

I know that’s only two things, but it’s two BIG things. If you’ve ever listened to real people talk — say, at most business meetings or any other time you really, really need to get a doughnut — you’ll find that most of what they say is:

1. Unimportant
2. Uninteresting

Which leads us to…

Tip #3 for writing dialogue
Don’t copy how real people talk.

I was having tea the other day, listening to a woman a few tables down from me say “like.” She must have said it, like, a hundred times. I was drinking caffeinated tea and I still wanted to doze off as she watered down her words with non sequitors, tangents, parentheticals, asides, dead-ends, and trivialities.

Not that all dialogue needs to wax poetical. Consider this recent line of dialogue from my XY, who was critiquing the 100% post-consumer recycled toilet paper I recently bought. He said:

“When you wipe with it, you just have to think ‘At least I’m saving the planet.’”

Okay, it’s not a ringing endorsement for recycled paper bathroom tissues.  And it’s definitely not poetry.  But I think it does what good dialogue should do.  It is:

• Concise
• To-the-point
• And (sadly, in a tragic blow to living greener) true

I don’t mean characters necessarily have to speak the truth, but that the lines are true to the story, always leading us onward and deeper.

To get a feel for how to adapt real conversation to amazing dialogue, watch an hour of C-SPAN congressional coverage. (Okay, okay, watch fifteen minutes, if you can stand it.) Then watch an hour of “The West Wing,” Aaron Sorkin’s version of politics.  Or listen to teenagers for an hour (okay, ten minutes) and then watch Joss Whedon’s “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” version of teens.  Vastly different, vastly more entertaining in the translation.

Who do you think gives good dialogue?  Got any favorite lines from books, TV or movies that have stuck with you?

In Texas, Fall is what you make of it. Yes, the weather “cools” — if you can call the daytime eighties and low nineties “cool”. We don’t really have fall foliage yet, unless you count store-bought mums. I even have to be sure my pumpkins stay in the shade, or else they’ll “cook” and rot.

I still love it. The light changes, and things just feel different, in a good way. I love the football games, the pumpkins and colors.

The season energizes me! Here is my Fall “to do” list:

1. Write, write and write. I’ve got a number of ideas swirling around in my head, and it’s time to unleash them on the world. Bwuahahahah!

2. Read. When life is busy, I find myself reading less and less, and I find that my own creativity suffers as a result. There’s something about reading that “unlocks” my brain, and makes me excited about writing my own ideas. What am I reading now? Sophie Jordan’s FIRELIGHT, and I just finished an ARC of Elle Jasper’s AFTERLIGHT. Both are fabulous. I have stacks of books waiting to be read. **rubs hands together in glee!**

3. Cook Good Food. I love to cook, but sometimes I get in a rut and cook the same junk over and over again, especially when I’m feeling tired and whiny at the end of the day. And while I’m not a vegetarian, I’d like to reduce the amount of meat in my diet. I’ve been wanting to try spaghetti squash.

4. Love the EARTH. I think I’m a conscientious person. If there’s anything that can inspire me into a mindless rage (Blulululululu!) it is seeing someone throw trash out their car window or toss a dirty baby diaper into the parking lot. I compost. We plant flowers and flowering bushes and encourage a healthy bee population. But I know I can do better, and so finding ways to be proactive in making the world a better place is on my Fall (and forever) to do list.

Going back to food, what’s your favorite middle of the week go-to, easy-out meal? Cereal doesn’t count, people!

Mine is tacos. Yummo!

Autumn is a jam-packed time, full of back-to-school, holiday celebrations, and entertainment options. For anyone in a team, choir, or club of any kind there is always a new fall schedule. It’s no mystery why I used to take my annual vacation in September: I needed the rest.

This year, with writing events near and far, every weekend is booked well into pumpkin season. Around all that activity and high on my to-do list is writing a new book proposal. This is always a tricky process because what I think I’m going to write usually bears little relationship to what comes out in the end. Hence, one wants to be specific enough to be unique and interesting but vague enough to include a range of possible outcomes:

The (hero/heroine/non-exclusive protagonist-type individual) engages in a (quest/battle/shopping trip) to find the (magic potion/sports car/sword/frequent flyer points) to save the (kingdom/roller drome/boutique/princess) and falls into the (passionate embrace/evil clutches/pot of boiling oil/elevator shaft) of the (hot babe/hot guy/hot sauce/hot tub).

I’ve always felt it would be a lot easier if the publisher just circled the choices they wanted. Personally, I’m for the sports car hero in the sauce. Then again, since I’m dealing with a hero who seems to be a combination of Hellboy and Bruce Willis a la Die Hard, who knows where we’ll end up.

And I mean that literally. I seem to be in travel mode this year, which is pretty unusual for me. I’m just back from Portland. Vancouver and Dallas are next on my list. Stay tuned!

Autumn is a time of change, and as the leaves turn, so do my thoughts of what to do next. Perhaps the cool air and crisp mornings give me more energy, but I almost always have a lovely To Do list by the end of September. Some of the things on my list this year are:

1. Write.
Well, of course, you say. Authors need to write. But the truth is, my summer was filled with all sorts of distractions, including a teenage daughter at home every day. The return of school season is a much needed kick in the pants for me. Time to stop slacking off and get my butt back in the chair with a set routine.

2. Finish the galleys for Surrender to Darkness.
This will only take me a few days, but it’s my last chance to catch glaring errors with the manuscript, so I need to be diligent. And ruthless. No big changes, just necessary changes.

3. Attend a workshop.
I’ve already got this lined up. In addition to the monthly workshops hosted by my local chapter of the Romance Writers of America, we’re having an all-day event at the end of this month with Michael Hauge, story and script consultant extraordinaire. There’s a lot a novelist can learn from the screenwriting biz, and I’m really looking forward to getting the goods—and a jolt of fresh creativity—from this event.

4. Create a livable budget.
Usually I’m very good when it comes to tracking finances—it comes from years in the financial sector and dealing with the erratic payouts of the publishing business—but over the last six months or so I’ve fallen off the bandwagon. Too many Caramel Macchiatos and pit stops at the Dairy Queen. Naughty me. Christmas is already waving to me from the far pages of the calendar, and I know I need to wrestle this one under control.

5. Clean the closet.
Like Jessa, I also have a closet I need to tackle. I haven’t used a thing in that over-stuffed space since I moved in six years ago. I think it’s time to send some boxes to the Goodwill. Maybe a lot of boxes.

Out of curiosity, does everyone have a closet that needs a clean sweep? Is it a writer thing?

Currently working on: Stand-off with Book 4 characters — Who will blink first? Me or them?
Mood: Clenched jawed

Autumn is a bit delayed here in the Pacific Northwest. Last week here at Silk And Shadows, I showed some pictures of my summer vacation (at left: the garden harvest we took with us for one-pot dinners) and normally, on our drive home from the high desert, when we pass into the rain cloud over Mt. Hood, we see the first signs of fall in the turning leaves.  This year, it’s still all green. Kind of like the tomatoes in our garden which are a month behind. Hurry up, tomatoes, we don’t have much time!

 This is the time of year when I like to finish up projects. It feels appropriate to batten down the hatches before winter. Here’s what’s on my list for fall projects:

1. Finish Book 4, come hell or high water
The high water will definitely be here. This is, after all, the Pacific Northwest. We do rain. As for the hell… I am not a peaceful writer. There is much kicking and screaming at my computer. I’m not proud of it, it does not serve me well, and I don’t recommend it as a technique to other writers, but it’s mine. I am currently in the kicking portion of this evening’s entertainment; the screaming will commence shortly.

2. Put the garden to bed
In a lovely dovetailing of deadlines, I will be done with Book 4 about the time the garden is done. I usually wait too long to strip the beds — hoping to wait for just one more red tomato — and end up having to do it in the rain, with my gloves drenched and full of mud. But whatever. Mulching for winter lacks the anticipation of spring planting, when you know you’ll get to watch the little plants grow all season, but there’s a certain satisfaction in covering the earth and wishing it good night.

3. Unearth my closet
The wild amokness of the garden can be productive, for pole beans at least. The same can be said sometimes for a wild imagination. The bedlam in my closet is not helpful in any way. Living in an old farmhouse has its pleasures, but the forehead-smashing, under-eaves closets are not among them. I wear whatever’s hanging closest to the door just to avoid going into the closet, for fear I won’t ever come out. Crawling into the way back… There be monsters. This fall, I want to at least be able to SEE the back wall.

4. Play with paint
I have an art project I’ve been itching to try, a multilayered abstract jewelry thing. I have the materials and just haven’t had the time. (I think I can sneak that in for Christmas presents, but don’t tell anybody ‘cuz it’s a surprise.)

5. Write something new
My ideas file is now 13 pages long. Truly, not every one of those ideas deserves a book, but some of them deserve at least a look beyond the cursory scribbling I gave them when they first popped up. The quiet of winter will be a perfect time to winnow through them — like next season’s seed packets to see what might sprout.

What’s on your list of autumn projects? Do you find that some tasks are better suited for some seasons than others?

Motivation is a funny thing. I always feel motivated to write, and create new and exciting projects, but at times my mental enthusiasm and creativity don’t translate into actual results.

Why not? Because like sweet boy Oscar (below) sometimes I spend too much time searching and thinking about my goals (pondering!) rather than actually achieving. Sometimes the Green Lizard (a/k/a the Golden Carrot, and in the picture below, pointed out in case you can’t see it, by a pink arrow) is completely within reach, but…I’m staring off into left field. La-la-la-la-la.

I find what I need are regular motivational self-pep talks, and those include writing my goals down in my journal and putting deadlines on my calendar. It also means deciding where I can sacrifice to achieve my goals (no evening TV for the week) or how I can possibly reward myself for good behavior. For example, I just sent a new proposal to my agent. If she gives it a thumbs up, then I’m buying myself a Kindle. If she doesn’t love it (which happens sometimes!), then the Kindle waits until after I’ve made the necessary revisions, etc.

Also, I have to say, it’s HIGHLY MOTIVATING to hang out with HIGHLY MOTIVATED and uber talented people like the other authors here on Silk & Shadows. What awesome peer pressure. The good kind. I want to be them when I grow up.

That’s what gets me motivated, and keeps my eye on the “prize” (lizard!).

Is there anything you like to reward yourself with, when you accomplish a goal?

Currently working on: Light at the end of Book 4
Mood: Dazzled by oncoming train headlight

I’m late on this week’s post about staying motivated (Thursday instead of Monday isn’t toooo late, is it?) because a half-dozen looming deadlines motivated me to run away for a week of blissfully empty-headed camping in the high desert of Oregon.

I love camping and hiking. The simplicity and clarity of a week outdoors frees my mind. More importantly, there is no wifi cloud over Steens Mountain to distract me from vacationing.

There were, however, plenty of cloud-clouds over Steens Mountain. Notice how those clouds are dripping down the peaks toward my blissfully empty-headed self.

From the time the first drop of rain hit our peacefully sleeping, upturned faces at 10:30 pm on our first night (we normally don’t put up the tent and just toss the sleeping bags out under the stars), we knew this particular camping trip was going to require a little more from us than our usual blithe daisy-sniffing.

No, it was clear we’d have to work a little harder to stay motivated, especially once we encountered the rattlesnake:

And then more rain, then sleet, then hail and then snow:

Under such conditions, it can be hard to stay motivated. In fact, you might just want to curl up into a little ball and wait for the frost to melt:

But if you do that, you never make it out of camp. So, staying motivated — whether during mile 8 of a long hike or in the long haul of a big project (like, oh, say, Book 4…) — seems to me to call for many of the same responses:

1. Bring hot cocoa. Lots of hot cocoa.
Oh come on, you knew I was going to say that first. Little marshmallows are optional, but highly recommended.

2. Rock the proper footwear.
In the case of writing, you need thick socks and maybe slippers.  When desert hiking, solid boots (thick enough to take a rattlesnake strike, for example) are best.  When crossing semi-freezing, hail/sleet/snow-fed streams… Well, sometimes you just have to suck it up and run across in your bare feet and shriek while your nerve endings turn to popsickles. Sometimes good fortune and preparation must be replaced with dumb fortitude:

3. Have a hint of an idea where you are going.
Staying motivated is easier if you kinda know where you are going and how to get there. Having a map, a compass, and an emergency transponder beacon so the Mounties can come rescue your ass can keep your spirits up when the way gets dark.

It’s also good to stop and look up once and awhile. When you’re on the long slog, sometimes you find you’ve been staring down at your mud-covered boots for miles and have no idea where you’ve been or what’s head. Take a break, eat some chocolate (hey, why not?) and look around you.

4. Enjoy the successes.
Eventually the miles and the rains do end, and the sun comes out, and you can see what you’ve been working toward. Revel in it. Cuz you got a long walk back.

5. Dream big.
On our camping trips, we only have a week, so we make every moment count.  Not rain nor rattlesnakes can stop us. (Maybe briefly sidetrack us, but you understand.) Want it — and want it bad — and power your motivation on that desire. Feel it like the warmth of a sleeping bag as the sun goes down. Smell it like sun-heated pine trees. Taste it like hot cocoa with little marshmallows. Only you can walk the miles to where you want to be.

Some people are motivated by money, ideals, or the prospect of beer. Dogs are motivated by affection, cats by stinky fish. Authors are specialized animals. Staying motivated as a writer is both extremely simple and very hard.

The hard part is obvious. Publishing a discouraging business—short, nasty, brutish and crazy, and that’s just me writing a synopsis. The simple part is that if I don’t sit down and turn on the computer, everything I’ve worked for goes poof. Books don’t happen without bum in chair time, and if deadlines aren’t met, life is not good. So there’s the stick—where’s the carrot? What draws us to this madhouse and keeps us here?

Once upon a time I heard a talk by an agent who came to my writing group. The part of her presentation that stuck with me was that you can’t be a writer for the money (ha!) or the approval of others. If you’re in the business for the ego strokes, it will eat you alive. You have to do it because you love your story and the characters you create, period.

There is a lot of truth there. When the chips are down, it’s the characters that pull me out of a funk. By the time I’ve written an entire book and spent that intense, concentrated span of time in their company, they’re like dear friends. I’ve actually cried after I’ve finished a book because I had to say goodbye. I’m miserable if I don’t get a chance to tell all their stories. There is a saying that writers write because they have to, but I think it’s mostly because they feel responsible for their imaginary friends.

And while it’s dangerous to become addicted to external reinforcement (‘cause sometimes the universe just wants to pull the bows off your party dress), a pat on the head never hurts. There is nothing as thrilling to me as sharing what I write, and it’s especially lovely when I can share with fellow bipeds. Otherwise, a book debut kind of goes like this:

Me: And then the hero knelt before the princess and offered up his heart and love and lands …
Cats: Are you going to shut up and feed us now?
Me: And pledged to die to preserve her spotless honour …
Cats: Is it stinky fish tonight? Did the hero have stinky fish? Mom? Mom? When’s dinner?

Much is lost in inter-species translation. Ergo, the idea of being in print and circulating THOUSANDS of copies of my books to actual humans is utterly thrilling. Having someone write to say that they enjoyed what they read is pure gold. Writing is communication. A writer needs a reader to complete the equation.

A human reader lets me know that I’m not writing in a vacuum, or writing something that is less desirable than stinky fish.

So thank you.