by Mayumi-H | Nov 16, 2013 | Short Stories
This week, Lillie McFerrin’s prompt for her Five Sentence Fiction challenge is “LETTERS.” Hop on over to Lillie’s site to check out other worthy entries, or try your own!
John didn’t believe, because belief granted power, giving purpose, tooth, and fang – and more, with numbers – to what should have stayed amorphous clouds of mere ideas. He’d read the texts, studied the stories, but always kept his distance from the mysticism: stay back from the fire and don’t get burned.
His colleagues challenged him, of course, with goads and pranks designed to make him crack, but he never gave in. He even snorted in disdain at their latest joke: a leather-bound book delivered to his darkened doorstep by unknown courier, its hackneyed prophecies scribbled in umber ink. No one would call him a frightful fool, so he read, deeper into meaning and long into the night, until he decided he’d learned enough to state his dedication to the cause of his study and his own stoicism…when his heart stopped, and he stared, as the letters on the page moved.
My primary major at university was English Literature (with a double in Classical Studies – super-employable, that combo), but I also took a few classes in Theology, for which my institution was known. Beginner theology is pretty standard stuff: a lot of translation and interpretation, with a heavy dose of well-chronicled history, believe it or not. Throw in some sociology and cultural studies, and it becomes more of a snooze-fest. I did have one class, though, that both totally sparked my interest in the field while at the same time completely freaking me out. It was a guest lecture by one of the Jesuit brothers who was a rather renowned demonologist (yes, they are real; William Peter Blatty supposedly consulted with this priest in regards to his novel, The Exorcist). He stood in front of a class of about fifteen students and told a story very similar to the one I’ve written above: about being up late one night in his seminary room or wherever, reading some so-old-it-farts-dust manuscript, and seeing the letters on the page move. Not just waver, but actually f—ing shift on the page. It remains perhaps the most awesome and most frightening thing I’ve ever heard…because, whether it really happened or it was just his tired eyes playing tricks on him, he believed it.
I remember wanting so badly to experience this sensation. So, I went to the university library and tried to make it happen.
The university library was a converted cathedral, a real Gothic throwback in the middle of the city. The inside is very modern, more so now than even during my days there, but when you looked up at that monolith of a central tower from the street, especially at night, it made for an imposing sight. In the stacks, it got even worse:
Cramped quarters and rickety spines all around. But, I remained determined. If anything weird was going to happen, it was most likely going to happen in the library. I mean, we had a copy of the Malleus Maleficarum, for pity’s sake! So, with the Dewey codes for the demonology texts scribbled in an uneasy hand on the index card in my fingers, I made my way up to the Theology stacks. I remember feeling giddy as I scanned the guide numbers on the shelves. And then, walking halfway down a deserted aisle, the numbers on the card and the numbers on the shelf matched up.
I stared at that book a long time. I don’t remember the title or the author, but I do remember it had a brown spine, with that gold leaf lettering that always seemed so popular on highfalutin’ academic texts. It looked relatively untouched, too. I remember that, as well. Because I thought, Why is this book just sitting here, as if in wait? (I was pretentious enough at that stage to have thought the phrase “as if in wait.”)
Now, I’d like to say I picked up that book and nothing happened…or, that something did happen. The truth is, I pulled an awkward teenager move and picked up the book three titles to the right and muttered under my breath something like, “Oh, this is the book I’m looking for,” even though no one else was about. Years on, though, I often consider that moment of standing in the stacks: what could have been or what I might have learned. The power of belief, if you will.
It’s a marvelous thing.
Did you work in any writing challenges, this week? Did you challenge yourself some other way? (You don’t have to have become a demonologist.) Let me know!
by Mayumi-H | Nov 2, 2013 | Fearless, It's My Life, Persona 4 Fan Fiction, Writing Projects
It’s November, and some of you out there are writing fiendishly for National Novel Writing Month. Despite my earlier expressed excitement, I decided at the last minute that I should instead concentrate on some works in progress rather than on a completely (well, mostly completely) new story. Rob and Paige’s story isn’t going in the bin; I’m just holding off on them a bit longer. They deserve a fuller telling, anyway.
NaNoWriMo is a celebration of writing, deadlines, creativity, and support, all important aspects of becoming a storyteller. Even though I won’t be running the race, this year, I don’t consider that a failure. In fact, NaNo has given me at least five stories of which I’m pretty proud:
2012’s NaNo – “Anywhere but Here” – is a dystopian science fiction story, about four runaways and the Hounds tracking them down. In my delusion, I thought I could possibly push that one to publishable status, so I sent the first 1000 words to editor Kate Johnston. Kate had some great comments…but I was too shamed to send her the rest for a real job; I wanted to make the draft the best I could make it, and I knew that first pass wasn’t good enough. So, I’m working on that in bits and bobs.
On a side note, I believe Kate is still offering a great deal on a free critique of 1000 words, over at Musefly Writing Studio. Check out the link for more details!
2011’s NaNo – Fearless – is still in progress, around 160K in first draft form. (I know: edit, edit, edit.) It’s a romance drama, one I’d once hoped to publish some day. As the story has become longer and more convoluted, though, that possibility has become ever more doubtful. I don’t mind. Once it’s done, I will print it up, bind it, and put it on my shelf. Because the story is so much a part of me, now. I’ve learned the most through writing it, and the depths of its beauty, sadness, and humanity I don’t think I’ll ever approach again.
2007’s story was Sixes and Sevens, romance from an interracial angle, set circa 1997. Why that year? I remember being at a sleepover and waking up to news of Diana Spencer’s death, and talking with my friends about it, how we take the most important parts of life for granted. That, and the music from 1997 was pretty rockin’. 😀
In 2006, I wrote “The Daughters of Krull,” based on the high fantasy film from the 1980s (don’t judge me). While a fantasy, the main plot dealt mostly with fathers and daughters. I took three supporting characters from the film – a middle-aged man, a younger man in his physical prime, and a boy – and used them to examine their relationships with the women in their lives. It was actually a lot of fun to write, if not terribly popular with my usual readers.
And, all the way back in 2005, for my first NaNo, I wrote “Through Green Eyes,” a coming-of-age story of four siblings in colonial Japan, seen through the eyes of the family cat. This is probably the roughest and simplest of my NaNo ventures, but it’s also one of my favorites. It rekindled a love of my personal heritage I hadn’t felt in a long time. And, writing a cat was fun.
Whether you’re participating in NaNoWriMo or not, take a moment to reflect on some of the stories you’ve written over the years. What are your favorites? Feel free to leave a link with your comment, too: because NaNo is just as much about sharing and inspiration as anything else. Tally ho!
by Mayumi-H | Oct 26, 2013 | Writing Projects
So, forgive me if this goes astray…
Last night, I dreamed a man. Athletic, Nordic: tall, blond, squared, chiseled features. Scruffy for his faint stubble. Not overly muscled, but built to last. Also, soused to the gills, blue eyes swimming behind alcohol contacts.
He pushes me.
I push back.
Grabbing the top of his popped beer, the frothy foam spilling between my fingers, I tell him, “You do that again, I will hit you. And it will hurt.”
The soporific cloud blurring his eyes turns clear.
He says nothing, just shifts away.
We meet again later, his gaze and expression fresh, now, no longer the sloppy drunk. I don’t remember what we say, only that he sort-of smiles. One sharp eyetooth stands crooked from the rest. Watching it poke a dent into his lower lip, I smile, too.
Night. Maybe that same day, maybe days later. I’m sorting socks, of all things: knee-highed stripes, brown footies, patterned thigh-highs. I’m thinking, Which ones would he like? when I’m called to hold the camera. Why no one else can figure out how to frame a shot for a stage performance, I don’t know.
I look into the monitor, set the shot, lock the camera. A man sits down, right in my line of view.
Blond. Scruffy. Built.
“Glad you could make it,” I say.
He tilts his head back and laughs, showing off that adorable crooked tooth. As though he knows that’s what will make me melt. He looks at me, blue eyes bright. And magnified a little, behind narrow-framed, horn rimmed glasses.
Be still, beating heart. But don’t let on:
“Now, get out of my shot.”
He laughs again, shifting out the way.
I’m not looking at the camera window any more.
Most of my dreams don’t translate well to story format, but this one did. Those of you who follow my Tumblr or that Friendface thing have seen this bit of free writing already, but, since it’s the only thing I’ve written recently that isn’t deeply mired in novel or fandom continuity, I thought it was worth a little space, here.
“Joseph dreams of wheat”
Owen Jones [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
Do you write down your dreams? Do you ever find they make their way into your stories?
by Mayumi-H | Oct 19, 2013 | From Hell (A Love Story), Process
A few weeks ago, I put up on the blog an excerpt of a fight scene I was having trouble with. Based on your feedback, I made some changes to the text, ones I hope create a smoother experience for the reader. Do they or don’t they? I’ll let you be the judge. (Clicking the image below will let you read both the original and updated versions, the latter of which I posted for readers just this past week, coincidentally enough.)
I like to think the update works better within the confines of the chapter…but I’m never sure. Because working from feedback has always been difficult, for me.
I like getting critique, especially if it can help my story become better: tighter, clearer, more effective. But, I spent a large part of my early writing life aping others. My sister first, then my favorite published authors. To this day, when I read books while I’m in the middle of writing a story, I find myself incorporating others’ techniques and quirks. It’s been said imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Though, when does imitation go too far, and we lose our own voice to the art?
I like my voice. It varies from story to story (admittedly, less successfully when I drag out a story for too long), but I like thinking of my stories as my own. When I get critiqued – especially when it’s good critique – I always hesitate. “If I change this phrase to x, will I sound more like A? If I edit that section to y, is my voice becoming like B?”
Even though I may not be destined for publishing, I still want my story to be the best it can be. So, in some cases, writing like favorite author A or insightful reader B might be better. But, does that make a story less mine, less me? I don’t know.
In the face of solid critique, how do you remember to keep to your own voice?
by Mayumi-H | Oct 12, 2013 | Process
I recently read an article on “Why You Should have a Messy Desk,” and it got me to thinking about my work space. I often write where and when I can. That tends to be on my laptop or in my notebook, sitting in a chair or sofa somewhere in the house. There are times when I need to retreat, though, to get away from everything and truly concentrate. For those times, I go to my writing room, and my trusty kotatsu.
A kotatsu is a small table with a heater built underneath. Mine looks like this:
This version of my kotatsu is much cleaner than it tends to get later in the colder months. Right now, I’ve just pulled it out from under about four piles of laundry. My scanner and portfolio are missing, too, because my husband made me put everything away when we had company a few months back. (No, I haven’t pulled them out since then. I haven’t really drawn since then, either, sadly. But that’s a lament for another day.)
The kotatsu might look like any other table…until you look under the blanket:
That’s the neat little electric heater that makes everything under the blanket oh-so toasty. It’s a memory I have from childhood years in Japan that I was excited to recapture when I learned I could purchase a kotatsu here in the US. (And I could afford the purchase, of course.)
The heat isn’t constant – it activates and deactivates on a regulated timer, based on your heat setting – but the blanket keeps the space warm. It’s not so energy efficient as a fireplace, but it’s more convenient than heating the whole house, especially when I’m alone. It’s pretty spacious under there, too. I’m short, so I can stretch my legs out, but even my six-foot-tall husband can get comfy underneath. He just can’t stretch out like I can. The only bad part about our kotatsu is that one of our cats seems to have a sixth sense for when I turn the thing on. And then, even I can’t stretch out as much as I’d like:
There’s a specific warning on the kotatsu packaging that you should not let pets sleep under the lamp, because it can get quite hot…but you can’t keep a cat from heat. If you ever get a kotatsu, just turn it off when you step away for any length of time. The heat dissipates, and your cat will become chilled again. Probably miffed, too, but I can’t help you with that.
Do you have a special place where you like to work?
by Mayumi-H | Oct 5, 2013 | It's My Life, Writing Projects
“Has he ever said, ‘I love you?’”
“No.” An indifferent shrug. That question seemed to nag at everyone else; it wasn’t the first time it had come up in conversation. “But, he doesn’t have to.”
“It doesn’t bother you?”
Again: “No.” And, again, a shrug. “They’re just words.”
“But they’re words you’re supposed to say, when you feel that way.”
A chuckle, but without mirth. “The last time he said those words were to his wife.” A quick shake of the head loosed the congealing doubts, like marbles startled in a jar. “I don’t think he’ll ever say them to anyone again.”
“What about you? Have you ever told him?”
A pause, now, to consider that: the step not taken, for both their fears. Then, another, slower shake. “It wouldn’t change anything. He’d still be who he is. We’d still be where we are.”
“Lovestruck?”
It was a guess. A good one, more accurate than not, come through a witting, impish smile.
It would have been nice to smile back. But it wouldn’t have been true. So, with a stilted, breaking breath, the muttered honest answer:
“Lost.”
My brain is such a mess at the moment, this sort of melancholy piece is all I can get out, right now.
I hope you all are doing all right, out there!
by Mayumi-H | Sep 28, 2013 | Process
October is usually when I decide if I can and/or will participate in National Novel Writing Month. I like to have a vague idea of a story already in my head by that time, so I can use October to do the basics of my research. But, I have to know my starting point.
My first NaNo, all the way back in 2005, came from an idea to write about my ancestral homeland, Japan, through the eyes of the family cat. 2007 was the year I picked up a bass for the first time, and became obsessed with classic rock band The Who, and so based the story around music. My 2011 idea sprung from a conversation between a couple on a beach. In 2012, I totally pantsed my way through the story of my space-age runaways and the hounds on their tail. For 2013 – if I do participate – I’ve got a fairly rough outline already in mind, quoted below.
I guess you shouldn’t read the idea flow if you think you’ll read the finished product- BWAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh, oh, I had a good laugh at that one! Of course, no one is gonna wanna read this tripe!
Oh, come on. You laughed. I know you did.
But, here you go, a glimpse into my process:
Flashback: Paige
Present day: New possibilities
Rob and coffee (or a beer) (You’re no good at this)
Goodbye at the stoop/Take things slow/The kiss
Dinners and dates (Do you like him? Or, do you like like him?)
Serena (Blow-up at the restaurant)
The past – Rob and Serena
Love for the first time
The morning after (Sleepover rules)
Days pass
Serena’s fight (unfit for duty)
Paige always comes first (“She has to.”)
Goodbyes (You belong with her)
He’s not the same, without you (Mia, maybe)
Daddy?
Resolutions, reversals, and revolutions
Generally speaking, this is what a rough first outline looks like, for me. (Well, I usually start with character names and some sketches for appearance, but I didn’t think a bunch of random names and profile scribbles would have been interesting for a blog post.) The story may change from these initial flecks of grey matter – it often does! – but even in that case, I find I write much more easily and fluidly if I have some prepped ideas ready.
In 2012, I came to the game much later than I usually do – November 1, in fact – and I spent the first two days just writing a story flow outline. I got my highs and lows so early in the process, because I was writing great big chunks of dialogue to feed my plot brain. The remainder of the month was mostly just filling in the blanks of those dialogue blocks. Of course, it strayed in parts, but the basic story remained the same. I had a great time writing it, but I wonder if I did myself or the story an injustice because of the way it came together. An editor’s notes on the first chapter of that story showed me I hadn’t committed myself to the fullness of what that story could be. In some ways, I didn’t care, because it was a NaNo story and I was simply glad I’d gotten through it before November 30. But a more serious-minded, critical part of me thought I should have taken more of that time not merely filling in the spaces between the dialogue, but actually putting effort into building that world.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8IG8texwyYA&w=560&h=315]
(Not this sort of pantsing)
I’m still building that world. I don’t know if it will ever get to the point where I’d want to send it off again, but it gave me a lot to think about. That stories, the ones we love, deserve our full efforts.
I can’t say I’ll do any better with my 2013 story than I did with my 2012 one (or any of the others, for that matter), but part of the reason I like NaNo is that it makes me push myself to write, and write hard.
What do you think, based on the above? You think I should give single dad Rob and daughter Paige a chance?
How do you approach NaNo (if you do)?
by Mayumi-H | Sep 21, 2013 | Process
Some quick new fiction below. Request follows.
She tilted her mouth to his ear, her words clinging and winding around his brain like sticky spider’s silk: “Get rid of him.”
Axton turned and took a single step toward Hal, who slid back a step of equal measure, still warning, “She’s controlling you. But you can fight her-”
“Get out,” Axton told him through his teeth. Taking another step, he curled his fingers into a fist, forcing his arm to stay at his side. Don’t go for the gun, he thought. Don’t go for the gun–
“Axton,” Hal began.
Widow followed a beat after, the threatening prompt of her voice thumping with his blood: “Axton.”
“Get out!” Axton shouted, and he lunged at Hal, fist leading the way.
Hal sidestepped, hair flapping. Squaring his shoulders, he turned on his side, to make a smaller target. But Axton was faster, knew the tricks, and grabbed Hal by the front of his jacket, yanking him in for a sharp knee to the gut.
Hal doubled over but didn’t drop. Axton felt something hard – a fist – slam into his belly. Hearing himself grunt, he fought again against his survival instinct.
–not the gun not the gun not the gun–
An “action” scene from my latest venture. I’m trying hard to make these better with each permutation of my writing. There’s more, of course, but that would be spoiling things, wouldn’t it?
For those of you who write action, care to share your thoughts? Tips? Critique? I’m open to suggestions!
by Mayumi-H | Sep 12, 2013 | Uncategorized
Some of you may have noticed I’ve been away from blogging these last few weeks, both reading and writing. The writing was because my life’s been hectic, to say the least. I’d been trying to keep up with reading, though. While I occasionally glance at the WordPress Reader feed on my commute, I usually rely on email notifications, because I’m an old person like that.
Over the last couple of weeks, my email updates have been silent. It seemed a tad odd that everyone was taking a similar hiatus to mine, but didn’t think too much on it, because I was running around like a headless chicken getting stuff done making my office run smoothly busy.
The other day, I happened to be on F***book, and I noticed a new post from someone I know I follow. That new post did not show up in my email, though. So, I went back to my Reader preferences, to make sure I was supposed to get emails for all the lovely bloggers I make sure to follow religiously. Sure enough, their settings were all correct. But, no mail-mail. As Oliver Chamberlain might say, “WTF?”
It turns out, WordPress has been working on a software update recently, making behind-the-scenes changes as software developers are wont to do. I work in IT, so I know it’s a common occurrence. And, every time this happens, there are The Lucky Ones (sarcasm here) whose service gets a bit mucked up in the process. This time, I got to be one of The Lucky Ones.
Sensing something amiss, yesterday, I sent this note to the WordPress.com Twitter:
This morning, in my Inbox were waiting more than a score of new updates, from the past two-and-a-half weeks. Needless to say, it’s going to take me some time to catch up with them, but I’m looking forward to it. Just from your post titles, you all sound like you’ve got great things to say.
As for me, I’ve continued to write, with a fresh freedom I haven’t felt in a long time. Nobody is reading this new stuff, but I honestly don’t care. Sure, attention is nice, but this writing has restored my passion for creating, molding, and expanding characters and situations. I take much more gratification in my own sense of accomplishment, in this case, whether it’s supported by the masses or not. The most fun part has been exploring more aspects of characterization and plot in this one: drama, adventure, action, romance (of a sort), adulthood and maturity (which don’t always go hand-in-hand), identity, relationships, death, wealth, drugs…a glorious mishmash of topics that have woven their way into my tale of two mercenaries.
I’ve also come up with a loose NaNo idea from all this free writing. Because, you know, I’m not busy enough.
I’m really looking forward to catching up with you all. I hope I can offer some entertainment for you, too!
by Mayumi-H | Aug 7, 2013 | Process
Sunset at La Jolla, CA, USA
I just got back from another vacation at the sea, enjoying the sun and surf. As always, great fun to hang with that beach crowd, though, by the end, I was more than ready to leave behind all the “dude”-ing that seems so prevalent on our western coast.
When I spend time watching the waves, I feel a bit sad for people who have never seen or experienced the sea in all its natural glory. Whether that’s enjoying the rush of a curling rip on a longboard or the soporific lap of a gentle tide in a rowboat, it’s one of life’s great adventures, to be in the sea. It makes one feel small yet in touch with the world as a whole. It’s primal, and soothing, and frightening, all in the same moment. It also makes one appreciate the responsibility championed by Aquaman and the Submariner a bit more.
Stepping into rolling surf takes strength, courage, determination. As strong a swimmer as you may think you are, you can easily get wiped out…or, at least, shoved back to shore by an even stronger wave. But I do it, because the sense of joy and freedom to be in those swells is too well-loved for me to consider staying on the beach all my life.
The same can be said for writing, I suppose. It’s easy to stay in the shallows, where we’re safe. It’s fun, too, just wading around, getting our feet wet, without any hint of danger. The sand stays under our toes; it’s just a hop to dry land. It’s calm, cool, refreshing. But, there’s no rush, no excitement. There’s no sense of triumph to be had simply dunking our toes. Anybody can do that.
So, we stride deeper, against the current. We move our arms and legs to stay above the water line. We swim. We dive. We ride. Not for ever. Maybe not even for very long. But we push ourselves, because adventure calls among those tall, crashing tidal breaks.
What’s adventure without action, though?
I’ve spent most of my writing life working in drama, where tension comes from feeling and emotion, not action. It’s a good place for me to be, I think, and I enjoy it. But, every once and again, I feel the urge to step out a bit further, past my safe boundaries.
On the plane flying out to the coast, I wrote about 3000 words of a throwaway story. Just me typing away to impulse, really. But, I wrote a little action scene. Now, I’m not strong with action: too much description, not enough tension. “Confusing,” readers have told me. And, “Boring.” Yikes. That wasn’t something I liked hearing. But, I’m actually rather pleased with this one. It’s short, which I think is good. About one action for every one or two seconds or so, too. And, it’s got a bit or resonance for the characters, which I always like.
I’d like to try my hand at more action, if the story warrants it. I think that’s important, too: action for action’s sake – just as drama for its own sake – does no favors to a story. Letting a story’s voice tell me what it needs and wants is a part of storytelling I need to remember. But, for now, I’ll enjoy these little action scenes.
I’m working through my backlog of blog updates this week. So, I’m asking for your patience a tad longer. It was a bit too wonderful to step away from the Internet for several days!
What’s your favorite sort of scene? Drama? Humor? Romance? Action? Have I forgotten some? What do you do to push yourself out past your regular boundaries?
The university library was a converted cathedral, a real Gothic throwback in the middle of the city. The inside is very modern, more so now than even during my days there, but when you looked up at that monolith of a central tower from the street, especially at night, it made for an imposing sight. In the stacks, it got even worse:
Cramped quarters and rickety spines all around. But, I remained determined. If anything weird was going to happen, it was most likely going to happen in the library. I mean, we had a copy of the Malleus Maleficarum, for pity’s sake! So, with the Dewey codes for the demonology texts scribbled in an uneasy hand on the index card in my fingers, I made my way up to the Theology stacks. I remember feeling giddy as I scanned the guide numbers on the shelves. And then, walking halfway down a deserted aisle, the numbers on the card and the numbers on the shelf matched up.
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