My NaNoWriMo is now NaNoEMo

It’s November, so it must be NaNoWriMo.

For those of you unfamiliar with this, NaNoWriMo is National Novel Writing Month. The aim is for participants to (surprise!) write a novel in a month. It’s a worldwide thing, with forums and support groups, as well as meet-ups in all kids of places where people can go along to work on their novels. Those taking part sign up, usually before November starts, and then post their word-counts as they go. They get support from others taking part, and it’s a great encouragement for anyone struggling to get their first draft done.

I heard about it last year, but didn’t get any of the details until later‌—‌it was just this ‘write a novel in a month’ thing. I spent time in October planning what would become Deep Water, and thought I might as well give this thing a go, albeit unofficially‌—‌I’d start writing my initial draft on the first of November, and see if I could complete it by the 30th.

A couple of weeks in, and I knew I wouldn’t do it. I had only covered about a third of my planning‌—‌there was no way I’d get to the end in the next two weeks.

And then I found out a little more about NaNoWriMo. The length of a novel is undetermined, so saying ‘write a novel in a month’ would mean different things to different people. So the NaNo organisers chose 50,000 words‌—‌about 150 pages. I checked my word-count on Deep Water (called Dominion 3 at the time)‌—‌I was at about 45,000 words already, and still had half the month to go!

So I set myself a different challenge‌—‌I might not get to the end of the story, but I’d aim for 100,000 words by the end of November‌—‌a double NaNo.

I made it, just. And a couple of weeks into December, I had the first draft of Deep Water finished.

But that’s all it was‌—‌a first draft.

There is a complaint that is often levelled at NaNoWriMo‌—‌that 50,000 words of first draft is not a novel. And this is true. But NaNo has never been about creating a completed novel in a month. There is no expectation that writers will start the month with nothing, and will then have a finished product, ready to put out into the world, by the 30th. Oh, people have done this‌—‌Sean Platt and Johnny B Truant wrote their book The Dream Engine over a month, in their Fiction Unboxed project. They started with nothing, planned the story, wrote it, edited it, got a cover, and had a finished product on sale by the end of the month‌—‌and they broadcast the whole process live on the internet.

But they are the outliers. They are doing this writing thing full-time, and they have a machine-like collaborative process. Those of us who are mere mortals have to contend with day-jobs. The majority of us simply cannot work that fast.

And, for a great many people, this can lead to despondency‌—‌if they can’t compete, why bother? There are so many people out there who have started, and then abandoned, their writing projects.

These are the very people NaNoWriMo is trying to help. One of the best encouragements for continual writing is a sense of achievement, and one of the most important achievements is completing that first draft, especially for a new writer.. And, with NaNo, there is no sense of judgement. From what I’ve seen, there is an incredibly positive vibe about the whole thing. Yes, people are proud when they ‘win’ with their 50,000 words. But there is just as much encouragement given for the ones who struggle to find the time in their busy lives, and finish with a word count of 30,000, or only a couple of thousand. They have still taken part, and they have still pushed themselves. They might not have ‘won’, but they have not lost, because with those few thousand words they have come closer to the end of that first draft. Every single word written brings the completion of the project a step closer.

I wanted to take part in NaNo this year‌—‌not for the encouragement to write, because I’ve already proven to myself that I can complete a first draft, but for the sense of community, and the chance to ‘meet’ others, like me, who have this writing bug. But things haven’t worked out. Over the summer, I planned Dominions 4. I didn’t want to wait before I started writing, not while so much was fresh in my mind, so I ploughed on, and finished the first draft about a week before the end of October.

But a first draft is not a finished book. It is only the start. The first draft of Dominions 4 was (is?) a mess. I was aiming for 100,000 words, but ended up with something closer to 150,000, so I have loads to cut. There are problems with the structure, and I don’t believe some of the characters’ motivations. It is a long way from being the novel I wanted to write.

A first draft is never perfect‌—‌far from it. Some people refer to it as the ‘vomit draft’, in part because it is, for many people, simply a case of getting the words out, but also because it often stinks, and needs to be cleaned up.

And that is what I am doing now, with Dominions 4. I’m deep into my first pass of editing (what I refer to as my ‘Kindle edit’, because it starts with me reading the text on my Kindle, as if it were a book, and making notes on all the major problems with the story). So I won’t be doing much writing over November. I won’t be taking part in NaNoWriMo.

At least, not in the normal way. But I’ll still be taking part in spirit. I won’t be working on my first draft, but I’ve set myself an alternative target. I might have started this edit at the tail end of October, but I’m aiming to finish before the 30th of November. For me, this is National Novel Editing Month‌—‌NaNoEMo.

I might not ‘win’, but even if I don’t finish this edit until December (or later), I’ll do what I can this month. Along with all those who are flying through their words, and those who are struggling to find the time to turn on their laptops, I’ll be working on my story. I’ll be watching the days, and be thinking of how much I have left to get through. And, when I’ve finished this edit, I’ll let the thing sit before doing another pass. There is still a long way to go before the writing becomes a book.

So, for anyone out there who is taking part in NaNoWriMo‌—‌keep at it. It doesn’t matter if you don’t reach that magic 50,000, or if you sail past it. You’ll get to the end of that first draft sooner or later, and when you do, you can give yourself a pat on the back, maybe have a drink or two, and take a moment to realise what you’ve achieved.

The vomit draft is over. You have a story, in all it’s messy glory.

Now comes the next stage.

Now comes the time to turn it into something special.

Deep Water (Dominions III) out now

Deep WaDeep Water (DominionsIII)ter (Dominions III) is now available from all major e-book stores. Click here for a list of them.

It’s probably my favourite of the three novels in the series so far. It answers many of the questions raised in Dark Glass, especially about Rodin and Paskia.

But it’s not the end. Dominions will continue. The whole series is going to be structured as a collection of trilogies. Deep Water completes the first trilogy, which is focused on Rodin. He will return (probably in Dominions V), but the next trilogy will deal with larger issues around the Dome and the surrounding districts (and further afield).

I’m working on Dominions IV at the moment, but it won’t be ready until well into next year. But for now, there is the first trilogy, ending with the new book, Deep Water.

Halloween Short Story – ‘Escape’

Another short story, this one written with Halloween in mind. It’s called Escape, and can be read here.

The ending is a bit of a horror story trope, with a ‘surprise’ that has been used countless times before. Even Terry Pratchett’s used it (although he was an expert at using and twisting storytelling tropes in fresh ways). But, even if you see this ending coming from afar, I hope you enjoy (if that is the right word) the short journey to that destination.

Something I’m enjoying with these short stories is the chance to experiment. Most of what I write is in third-person past tense, but to make things more involved in Escape, I’ve gone for first-person present tense. I wouldn’t be able to pull this off for anything longer, but for a short story I think it works. And if not, it’s only a thousand words. If you don’t like this one, there will be another story along in a couple of weeks.

But I might try something different with that one, too.

Anyway, you can check out Escape here, or through the short stories page.

If I Wanted Facts, I’d Read A Textbook

I recently bought a collection called Star Heroes: 9 Novels of Space Exploration, Aliens, and Adventure‌—‌9 novels for a ridiculously low price. As with anything that seems like too good a deal, I was initially dubious of the quality, but so far I have been pleasantly surprised.

starnomad_lindsayburokerThe first novel in the collection is Star Nomad, a sci-fi adventure by Lindsay Buroker, and it is a very enjoyable read‌—‌lots of action, a fast-moving story, and an interesting cast of characters. I’ve already bought the next book in the series.

When I’d finished it, I popped onto Amazon and read some of the reviews. The vast majority were positive, but, as with any book, there were a few one-stars. Although I personally didn’t agree with these, one of the complaints against the book got me thinking. A couple of reviewers took Buroker to task over the weak science in the book, with one especially complaining about her apparent lack of understanding of how craft would move in space.

That comment made me think of another book I read recently, Neal Stephenson’s Seveneves‌—‌800 pages, with about half of them explaining the science behind what is happening. In this book, manoeuvring in space is a precise, drawn-out procedure that can take hours, days, or even longer. Everything moves at a slow pace, because that is more scientifically accurate.

I enjoyed that book, and it was clear that Stephenson had done a great deal of research. There is no way I can vouch for the technical details, but even if Stephenson invented parts of it, it reads like fact.

seveneves_nealstephensonBut it is a very different read to Buroker’s book. Where Stephenson starts with a premise (what would happen if the moon exploded?) and uses science to plot his story, Buroker is more interested in the action and adventure, and putting her characters in different situations to see how they cope. Where Seveneves is serious (most of the time), Star Nomad is escapism.

But I’m also reminded of Arthur C Clarke’s statement that ‘any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic’. Today, we can do things with technology that would astound someone from a century ago. We can hold an entire library on a small, hand-held device, or we can travel the globe in a matter of hours. We can control computers with our eyes, and cars can drive themselves. So, in books set in the far future, or in alternative universes or dimensions, who’s to say what can be done with science? Just because something is impossible today doesn’t mean it will always be so.

Both books are science-fiction, but there are two parts to that description. Stephenson is driven by the former, and Buroker is more concerned with the latter. Yet it should be remembered that these books are both fiction. They are invented stories, not factual accounts, and to fully appreciate them we have to buy into the implausibilities. Yes, the way Buroker’s heroine throws her craft around cannot be explained by science as we understand it, but so what? It’s a fun read. It’s entertainment. And it doesn’t pretend to be anything else.

When we read (or watch) fiction, we have to give ourselves that freedom to accept the ridiculous. It’s how we can enjoy James Bond films without concerning ourselves over the seemingly indestructible nature of Bond himself (how many lucky escapes can one man have?) It’s how cosy-mystery fans can ignore the implausibility of a Jessica Fletcher character who stumbles across, and solves, more murders over a series than many police officers would deal with in their whole careers. It’s how we can accept, for a couple of hours, that a hero can survive and win, despite being beaten so much that he should be in intensive care (see just about any action film for examples of this‌—‌most fights should be short and brutal, with both combatants soon out of breath or incapacitated from their injuries, not long drawn-out affairs with breaks for witty comments).

So were the negative reviews of Buroker’s book wrong? No. Reviews are personal opinions, not facts. And there is validity in the claim that her book is light on actual science. This clearly bothered some readers, and they would probably prefer something like Seveneves.

And that is fine. There are so, so many books out there. Even a specific genre like science-fiction contains a vast spectrum of books, including Stephenson’s hard sci-fi and Buroker’s sci-fi adventures. Not every book will appeal to every reader.

My opinion‌—‌and that is all it is‌—‌is that Star Nomad is a fun read, and gave me a few hours of solid entertainment. Which is exactly what I was looking for.

If I wanted to understand the science of space, I’d read a textbook.

Next short story – ‘Influential Friends’

Another short story for you‌—‌Influential Friends. You can read it here.

With these short stories, I’m exploring some of the characters that appear in the Dominions books. A Lesson In Death was about the main character, Rodin, and now it’s the turn of another characters, Genna.

She’s one of my favourite characters so far, even though she only plays a small part in the first book. She’s tough and smart, and she’s had to fight for everything she’s got. She’s the kind of person you’d definitely want on your side‌—‌you wouldn’t want to go up against her unless you had to.

From the first moment she appeared in Dark Glass, I knew there was far more to her, and as I work on Dominions IV, I’m delving into the vulnerabilities behind that rock-hard exterior. Her strengths, weaknesses, and her past are all being revealed, and it’s interesting watching her develop into one of the pivotal roles in the ongoing Dominions series.

But that book is not yet finished. For now, here’s a short story about one of my favourite characters. I hope you enjoy Influential Friends.

Dead Flesh (Dominions II) out now

Dead Flesh (Dominions II

The second novel in the Dominions series, Dead Flesh, is now available from all major e-book stores.

I’m really pleased with the way this book turned out, although it started as something totally different. When I first planned what was then simply called ‘Dominions 2’, I wanted Rodin (the main character) to pull off a daring rescue, but I had to work out why a mercenary would care enough to do this without being paid. Before he could charge in and be a hero, I needed to explain how he came to question his purpose in life.

That book didn’t work out. I liked big parts of it, but there was simply too much story. I think the first draft came in at over 150,000 words, and I was aiming for 100,000. And at that, it still felt rushed. I needed to cut it back, but I also needed to expand it. There was the big rescue, and all the build-up to that. There was another whole section about the person who needed rescuing, and how they got caught. And then there was Rodin’s journey before this, the part that needed to be there for his actions to make any sense.

As I worked on this, I realised that the initial section, where Rodin had his crisis of conscience, was pretty strong on its own. I looked at this part in more detail, and it started to grow into its own thing. Soon, it was clear that Rodin’s journey alone would be the second Dominions novel. The rest of the story could wait for the next book (although that didn’t work out, either. Sometimes I don’t know why I bother trying to plan these stories!)

As I said before, I’m pleased with how this book turned out. It’s dark, but it also has heart. There’s lots of action, but there is also lots of introspection. It answers some of the questions posed in the first Dominions novel, but also opens more loops.

If that all sound intriguing, check it out – click here to find out where you can get Dead Flesh. And if you’re interested in the start of the Dominions series, check out Dark Glass.

And next month I’ll release the third novel, Deep Water.

If A Book Makes Me Feel Sick, I Know It’s Good Writing

When you think about it, reading fiction is a strange activity. It involves staring at symbols on a page or screen, ignoring all distractions, and yet it can take us to other worlds. We take this static information in through our eyes, and allow it to run through out minds, and yet it can open up whole realms of sensations. It involves nothing but words, but it can have such a deep effect on us. And sometimes that effect is physical.

I’ve heard it said that there are two genres that specifically go for this physical effect — horror and erotica (maybe that’s why James Herbert always managed to include a sex scene in his horror books). I can’t comment on the latter, but I have read quite a bit of horror, especially as a teenager. Stephen King, James Herbert, Peter Straub, Clive Barker — I’d get through loads of this stuff, and sometimes, when I put the book down, I wouldn’t want to walk around the house without the lights on. I’d get that tingle, that nagging ‘something’s waiting in the dark’ feeling.

So I got goose-bumps, and a shiver running down my spine. But
one book took me further. One book stands out — Iain Banks’ debut novel, The Wasp Factory.waspfactory_iainbanks

At the time it affected me so memorably, I was re-reading it. I’d enjoyed it first time round (strange how the word ‘enjoy’ can be used for something dark and disturbing), but couldn’t recall much of it. I was working shifts at the time, and needed something to keep me occupied on my breaks — and so, obviously, I took a book in to work, alongside my sandwiches.

So there I was, eating while I read another chapter, sitting on cheap plastic chairs in an empty factory canteen. And I reached a particular part of the book, where it describes the main character’s brother working in a hospital, looking after young children.

The scene (which I won’t even attempt to describe) was shocking, and as I read I felt my stomach churning. My cheeks puffed out with the sensation that I was about to vomit.

I had to stop reading for a while. I put the book down and let my stomach settle.

I wondered if there was something up with my sandwich, but it was fine. It wasn’t food that had made me feel nauseous, but words.

I returned to the book. I re-read that scene. It still made me feel uneasy.

Yet Banks didn’t describe any of the horrors I pictured in my head. There was a build-up, when the character realizes something is wrong. And then there is a jump, to a nurse entering the room and seeing the aftermath.

How could words make me feel ill, especially when so little had been described? How did Banks do it? He built up the scene, but he didn’t tell us exactly what was wrong. Only in the aftermath do we get a glimpse of it, and the whole thing is described in a few sentences (maybe even one — it’s a while since I’ve read it again).

Everything else is left to the imagination.

I believe that’s the key. If Banks had described the scene in detail, the words would have got in the way. I’m sure he would have written it well, but I doubt it would have had the same impact. Describing something is never as intimate as imagining it.

This idea works well in films. Compare the claustrophobic dread of Alien, where any dark spot in the shadows could be the creature, to the reduced impact in later films when the aliens are seen in their entirety. Think of the way the shark in Jaws is never seen for the first hour of the film, yet we know this unseen terror is there, waiting for its moment to strike. Think of the ending of Seven, where we never see what is in the box (despite what some people still believe), but our imagination fills in the blanks.

It’s arguably far harder to do in books, but writers like Iain Banks shows that is is possible. By describing around a scene, our imaginations are let loose, and the horrors we can summon up are far more personal. By choosing just the right words, an author like Banks can guide our thoughts to darker places. By using suggestion and hints, a great author can give a scene such startling realism that we become physically part of the world they have created.

factory-387868_640Sitting in that factory canteen in the middle of the night, I realized for the first time how words could trigger not only our minds but also our bodies.

And that book still impresses me. It has to. Other books have made me question things, or set my pulse racing. Other books have scared the hell out of me, or made me feel good about myself. But no other book has brought me so close to throwing up.

I should write a review for it, and limit myself to a couple of sentences. ‘This book almost made me lose my lunch. Five stars.’