by Mayumi-H | Feb 24, 2012 | Process, Uncategorized
This post came from a dialogue I recently had with my husband. I lamented that I didn’t think I was doing things “right” for the romance genre, and that maybe I should change parts of the story (specifically, my heroine’s backstory and the circumstances around her meeting my hero). He didn’t exactly put his foot into my behind and tell me not to start rewriting the beginning, but he did ask what it would accomplish for the story. And he managed to bring up a plot point – a very important one, actually – that would be radically changed if I went back and switched things around. That conversation – and its associated realisations – are what prompted this post.
Most any real writer – whether professional or amateur – would agree that rewrites can lead to doom.
I’m not talking about the necessary editing that occurs with all work: where the writer and his or her editor (or editors) go through the story as a whole, make notes, and decide on changes. Those rewrites are good.
I’m talking about the rewrites that occur in our heads. When we get frustrated with a story and think, “What am I doing wrong?” That’s when we are in danger of stopping our progress and going back to “fix” things that may not even need fixing at all. When we somehow decide (usually in a fit of depression or anxiety) that everybody else is doing this so much better, and if we wrote just like him or just like her, we’d be successful and the masses would love everything we put down on paper.
While that last sentence is a fallacy in and of itself, the real danger here is not really in the changing of a story. Any or all stories can change, over time. Most of them likely will. Some stories are almost living things, metamorphosing from a simple idea to a more complex one (or sometimes vice versa).
No, the danger, here, is the stopping progress part, the going back to fix part. It’s likely not the right thing for me to use this space to yell at you fine readers, but I speak from experience:
Never, ever do this!
When we stop moving forward with a story that isn’t yet finished, that story is in danger of never becoming finished. And a story that isn’t finished won’t get published anywhere. Worse, though, in my opinion, is that that story falls into Limbo. The characters are left hanging, the plot remains unresolved, and there’s another couple hundred hours lost to…what? Nothing?
Switching gears helps a lot of writers to get back on track. There’s nothing wrong with that. Taking a break is also a great idea for many of us. We can’t concentrate 100% on the same thing twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, and not get brain-strain from it all.
But, for pity’s sake, force yourself to finish your story before you start to go back and change huge chunks of it. A large percentage of want-to-be writers are only want-to-be writers because they never actually finish anything. Be part of the few. Even if the story is crap, at least it will be completed crap. That’s more than most have to their name.
by Mayumi-H | Feb 14, 2012 | Fearless, Process, Uncategorized
And even though the words tickling at the edge of his tongue were silly and foolish and the sort of clichéd romantic tripe that he’d always eschewed, Ross said them, anyway. – from my work-in-progress, Fearless
It’s Valentine’s Day around here. Typically, the day is reserved for professing (or re-professing) your love to your significant other, whether that be your boyfriend, girlfriend, spouse, anime pillow, or whatever.
As someone who has long been a sucker for romance (both in general and writing it), I’m torn between disparate feelings for this day. I’ve never been so happy with my husband as I’ve been with anyone or anything else…but I’ve also always harbored disdain for the hearts and cards and chocolates proclaiming that this is the only day that matters for lovers, when, in fact, every day should be special with the person – or people – whom you love. Of course, my husband is not an overly-romantic man: his idea of a token of affection is a sour ale poured into a pretty glass. (But, to be fair, I do appreciate my Duchesse.) This is good and bad, for me as a writer.
Writing women in romantic escapades and conundrums is easy: I can just project myself into that woman, and imagine what I’d love for a man to do for, to, or with me. But writing a man becomes more difficult. Some writers, no matter their gender, can write perfect romantic prose. Me, I’ve got to “hear” and “see” men whom I know – like my husband – saying their words or performing their actions. This is likely considered a crutch by many, but – again, just for me, specifically – it helps me to create a portrait of a man that I can understand as well as appreciate. (And while my husband might not be a Lancelot or Romeo, I’ve got other friends who come closer. So it’s not all about plopping one specific person into a character.)
Saying all of that, though, I think I like even my romantic leads to be resistant to the swooniness of a day like Valentine’s Day, and its associated stereotypical lovey-dovey moments. The girls are free to be hopeless romantics dreaming of a swashbuckler, but the boys need to be a bit standoffish to it all.
You know, at least on the surface. Because what’s the point of romance if you can’t be just a little bit dizzy about it all?
by Mayumi-H | Feb 11, 2012 | Fearless, Process, Uncategorized
One of the things I enjoy most about writing (aside from the writing itself, of course, and seeing the finished product on the page) is the research. And – partly because it’s something that I think I do well – visualising how characters look is always a hugely fun part of my research. Clothes are a huge part of that.
I don’t think that the reader needs to be informed of every little dangle of hair or change of clothes in every scene, but there are some moments when I think it can really help bring the reader into the world if I can let them “see” what someone looks like, and what feelings or impressions that look may evoke. A clumsy boy in a school uniform gives a very different impression from a young man in a well-tailored business suit, even if they’re essentially the same character beneath the surface. And while a young woman might not find that ordinary boy attractive…she might suddenly notice him when he’s in that suit.
Naturally, my characters’ tastes are a reflection of my own, since I’m writing them, but it’s still a lot of fun to imagine different outfits for different occasions. Because even though we may find another person attractive (or not) because of who they are, we’re still influenced by how they look (again, for better or worse).
I personally like to use clothing as a way to help set mood or perspective. When Ross helps fit Amber for a wetsuit, it’s as much about him inviting her into his world as it is about him getting the opportunity to see her in something skintight. When Chie dresses in a formal wedding kimono at the duel between her lover and her father, she’s not doing so simply to be pretty or feminine; she’s telling her father that she’s making a choice regarding the man in her life. And when Leon lounges around his apartment on New Year’s Eve in an old AC/DC tee shirt and shorts, that’s him shutting himself off from the world around him.
The choices we make when we create characters aren’t random. Or at least, they shouldn’t be. That’s what I think. Everything a character does or says – or wears – is an extra little glimpse into who he or she is.
…Or maybe I just like looking at clothes. You can decide.
by Mayumi-H | Feb 8, 2012 | Fearless, Process, Uncategorized
(An old post from my deviantART, but worth mentioning, here, I think.)
It is no secret that my personal tastes (when it comes to writing, though drawing, too) lean toward the raunchy side. Anyone who has read my more recent work should realise that. And I’ve talked about this before (pardon me for beating the dead horse), but it comes up again and again, like…well, like a zombie version of aforementioned dead horse. And beating it several times in the head just won’t make the darn thing stay down.
My stories deal very intimately with adult relationships, and a large part of adult relationships has to do with sex. That is not to say that two people cannot have a loving, nurturing, give-and-take relationship that has very little or even nothing at all to do with sex – they can! – but that’s not how most of my characters approach their affairs. My main protagonists nearly always tend to be very sexual, very physical beings, who enjoy and even sometimes rely on sex to communicate to their partner what they can’t say in words. This is how I’ve often viewed my own adult relationships. We talk with our bodies in very simple ways – nodding, shrugging, smiling, hugging – but we also talk with them in equally complex ways: kissing, fondling, and – yes! – even screwing.
It was during a recent writing sojourn into another fandom (Doctor Who, for those interested, though it’s not particularly relevant to my point) that I realised that all of my (adult) characters express their affection physically and sexually. But I also realised that the issues that come with sex between one set of characters can be very different from the issues that come between others. And I enjoy examining that.
Is the sex that I write pandering? I don’t think so. But I’m the author, so I would say that.
Rather, I’ve found that I don’t enjoy writing sex so much for the shock value, as I do to explore what’s sometimes going on beneath the surface of two bodies slipping and seething over each other. (1 More Chance!, for example, examined these issues in spades, and nearly every sexual interaction that the main protagonists had was fraught with subtext and subconscious agendas and deeper meaning for the individuals involved, than just “and then they fuck.” Fearless approaches the subject of sex in a slightly different, though no less impactful, way, in that it’s somewhat central to the main external conflict.) So, I’ve come up with a word that I think sums up my position – and what I hope to convey with my raunchier stories – and that is:
smuff.
“Smuff” is a mix of smut and fluff. The smut part is obvious (I did say I get pretty saucy with my work)…but there is also an inarguable amount of fluff in what I write, too. The characters are never raping each other (because rape is not about sex, it’s about power…and I don’t think it’s a healthy part of any loving, nurturing relationship). They might get enthusiastic about sex, but there’s also a layer of tenderness that tends to crop up in nearly every sexual interaction through which I put them. That’s no mistake. I might be a filthy-minded individual…but I’m also an incurable romantic.
So, you’ll likely be seeing the “smuff” categorization popping up with some frequency for my posts. If you don’t mind, I appreciate the support to write what I please.
And if you do mind it, you can just click away quickly. I’ll never know.
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