Category Archives: Frank Herbert

Go, Create, Write

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“There’s a natural human tendency to lean on and repeat that which we do well. This is okay if we’re cranking out donuts or widgets. But as self-anointed creative artists, our daily joy and progress rest on our ability to jump beyond our safety. Look steadily and imaginatively at the blah in front of you. Given time and contemplation, your new level will stealthily appear. When “So what?” strikes, we ask ourselves “What now?” ~ Robert Genn 

Robert Genn strikes again. In this post he talks about how to overcome the “so what?” factor that plagues so many writers, including myself.

Hemingway at Pamplona, contemplating his passion

Hemingway at Pamplona, contemplating his passion

Often I get the feeling that what I’m writing is good, but, so what? Who cares? And it’s a big deal, because if you can’t answer “so what?”, then you’re usually stuck with “why bother?”

But that’s not the point. The “so what” factor isn’t relevant to us as writers. That’s not up to us. Sure, we should be aware of it, but like one of my old heroes Frank Herbert once said, “You don’t write for success. That takes part of your attention away from the writing. If you’re really doing it, that’s all you’re doing: writing.”

And he’s right! You aren’t writing for “so what”, you’re writing because you have to. Hemingway said you just sit down at the typewriter and bleed. That’s what you do. You’re doing this for you, not anyone else. So there is your “so what”, there is your raison d’etre, your meaning of life. Do it for you, because you must, because you love it. If you approach it from a business standpoint, then yeah, “so what” matters a lot more, and that passion and enthusiasm that ought to be filling your work will be cold and lifeless. No one ever read For Whom the Bell Tolls and said, “so what?” It’s passion, as all art must be. If not for passion, then why?

Breathe and write, all else comes second.

 

Of Mice, Cookie Jars, and Comedians

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In case you’re wondering where I’ve been (you don’t spend your days combing through the archives?), I’ve been buried deep in my book. I almost made that crazy deadline I set for myself, though I did get some other stuff done, and now I’ve got my nose to the grindstone and am trying to make this happen. No news to report, as of yet, though I’m going to start the writing for the day in a few minutes and I have a sneaking suspicion today might be the day I finish that part I’ve been working on for so long. I can’t reveal anything, but it’s big. Pivotal. Not the apex of the story, but certainly the part where it all “begins”. Hmmm. Maybe I should’ve started here 80,000 words ago? Well, we’ll see.

Believe me, I’ve seen worse

In any case, I wanted to impart a little wisdom today to whet your writing appetite. Jerry Seinfeld, of all people, had some interesting things to say on the topic, and it seems that he—as well as Frank Herbert, Jack London, and Neil Gaiman, all agree: just sit down and do it. “This is how you do it: you sit down at the keyboard and you put one word after another until its done. It’s that easy, and that hard,” Gaiman said, and I think he knows what he’s talking about. 

It doesn’t matter how you do it, just do it. Seinfeld actually tricked himself into writing, stashing cookies in his notebook. “An hour a day. That was my first goal. Ten hours a month. That’s not easy for someone starting out, and it took me a couple of years to accomplish. Sometimes I had to trick myself to get my­self to write. You wouldn’t believe the things I had to do to get myself to write. Sometimes I’d put the cookies by my notebook. It’s like a mousetrap — I go get the cookies, then I look in the note­book, and the next thing I know, I’m writing.“

It’s encouraging to know that even for someone as wildly talented and successful as Jerry Seinfeld, writing was a struggle. Self discipline is about the hardest thing to muster up I’ve ever come across, and sometimes looking at my computer chair is like contemplating a coffin–confining, restricting. But the point is, he did it. And I’m doing it, and everyone has done it. Well, everyone who amounted to anything. So you can to. It’s a hard thing to learn but it must be done if you want to pursue your dreams. Anyone can go into an office and have someone tell them what to do. That’s real, those consequences are tangible. But if you skip your writing session for a day? A week? Who will know? Who will care?

You will, and you owe it to yourself and everyone who will eventually read your work to get it done. This may sound like a stern lecture, but I’m also talking to myself. It’s important to be reminded how essential a good work ethic is, and how much of getting a book written is just sitting down and doing it. It’s not magic, it’s just work. But don’t despair, you’re in good company. I find I’m rather like George R. R. Martin in that respect when he said, “Some writers enjoy writing, I am told. Not me. I enjoy having written.” Absolutely. I enjoy having written. But to get there, you have to write.

There, I feel better. Well, off to get some writing done! Have a good one folks, I’ll catch up with you soon.

Procrastination By Working

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This was an interesting article I came across today on Linkedin. It summarises my general attitude towards any task that must, needs to, absolutely has to get done. Usually that’s working on my book. I’m not sure why working on my book has evolved into such a tedious chore, but it has, and it’s one I’ll put off on almost any excuse. Usually I can make myself feel better about it simply by updating my blog here: that’s writing, right? Yes, but as Gretchen says, it’s not the right kind of writing. And I know that. Deep down inside, I know that. But I push it to the back of my mind and accomplish thirty other things, just so I can forgive myself for not doing what I know I need to.

This relates back to my previous post “Don’t Be A Draught Horse” where Henry Miller states that you must always write first. Nothing comes before that. Well, I let it. And I try not to feel to bad about that, because usually it’s sending out job applications, practising my violin, drawing, reading, studying German, or any number of other cultivating activities. But they aren’t writing, and they don’t add up when I anxiously notice the page count of my novel hasn’t grown in weeks.

No excuses. Sit down, do the work, and shut up. Like Frank Herbert said, some days I’d rather be out for a walk, or swimming, or sharpening pencils. But you’re not killing the goose here, you’re just producing the egg. Don’t sweat it, you’ll survive the ordeal of writing your novel, and you’ll come out the other side with something wonderful.

EDIT: After reading some feedback, I think it might be important to add that I love writing. I wouldn’t want to do anything else, and there is nothing in the world so satisfying as creating something and watching it grow. It isn’t the writing that gives me pause, it’s the sheer amount of work that is required to make this book a reality. Like any profession, writing is work too, and even if you enjoy doing it, there are still times when the headache and frustration can be overwhelming. But that doesn’t detract at all from the pleasure I find in sitting down and pouring my thoughts and dreams out onto the page. There is nothing I’ve found quite like the joy of writing, and even if I get bogged down and am overcome with uncertainty, it’s part of the process and makes the reward of finishing a great chapter that much more gratifying.

 

Milestones and Motivation

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“Discipline, after all, is motivation when you’re not motivated.” ~ Kenji Crosland

I came across this quote after hitting a milestone in my writing a few weeks ago. Most science fiction novels are between 100-150,000 words. I recently knocked over the 50,000 word mark. Since it’s taken me five years and as many rewrites to get here, I was pretty proud of myself. I’ve been slowly coasting down from that peak ever since, and after mentally rewarding myself for my (not insignificant) achievement, I feel I’ve been a little too lenient in the relaxation portion of my reward. It’s time to get back to work, and I’m finding it as difficult as ever to produce those ever-so-elusive words.

So I’ve been doing a little reading on the side to help me find some motivation to write. Kenji Crosland runs a blog (http://jimijones.com/blogging/finding-motivation-to-write/) and has some pretty good advice for budding writers. My problem, specifically (don’t we all have one?) is that the world in my novel is so complicated that writing about it is often times an absolute chore. I have 51,000 words on my novel, and nearly as many just in notes I’ve taken. Keeping all those notes and ideas and plans organised in my mind is nothing short of a headache, and I find I’m often overwhelmed with the sheer amount of material that I have on hand. Yet there’s always the nagging voice that, even with all my foresight and careful planning, I’m still going to miss something crucial—that I’ll inadvertently create a plot hole, or that I’ll overburden the reader with details—and so I’m continually wading between my notes and my novel, struggling to see any real progress.

I have a lot of faith that, once I finish this novel, the groundwork will be mostly laid for future novels and I can breathe a bit. In a way, it’s the opposite of having writer’s block. There’s simply too much for me to compile and compress and deal with at one time. Which is why I’ve found if I wait, it generally strings itself out in my mind coherently and I’m able to manage sorting it out on the page. But without practise and caution, this can easily result in days, weeks, and sometimes even months away from the computer. But for now, it’s dirty work in the trenches and when I glance at my computer as I’m walking through the room, and see that beckoning keyboard, it’s difficult to suppress a shudder at the thought of the gruelling work ahead.

Don’t get me wrong. Writing this book has a lot of very tangible rewards. I can’t remember the last time I was so proud of myself as when I hit that 50k mark. And ordering the chapters and seeing the page count grow is a real exercise in promoting self worth. It’s just that it’s hard, hard work. I’m sure many of you who are writers can relate. We all have our projects that we nurse along and have such high hopes for. Seeing these projects fall short of our (often times) unrealistic expectations can be seriously demoralising. So far, the only solution to this I’ve come across is this: just keep going.

Jennifer Egan, author of  A Visit From the Goon Squad, had some excellent advice I read a while back, and I think of it every single time I sit down to write: “Be willing to write really badly. It won’t hurt you to do that. I think there is this fear of writing badly, something primal about it, like: “This bad stuff is coming out of me…” Forget it! Let it float away and the good stuff follows. For me, the bad beginning is just something to build on. It’s no big deal. You have to give yourself permission to do that because you can’t expect to write regularly and always write well. That’s when people get into the habit of waiting for the good moments, and that is where I think writer’s block comes from. Like: It’s not happening. Well, maybe good writing isn’t happening, but let some bad writing happen…”

…field of streams of consciousness. 

And that’s it. After years of digesting Emmerson and Whitman and Twain and Poe and Hemingway and London and Herbert, I’m afraid of writing badly. I’m afraid I won’t live up to my expectations, that I’ll fall short of my heroes. It definitely holds me back, more than anything else I’m finding. But what can you do about it? Well, like Jennifer said: Give yourself permission to write badly. Odds are, it’ll be better than you think it is, especially after you get away from it for a while and check in to see what you’ve written later. Another one of my go-to writing quotes is by Frank Herbert, and he said, “Coming back and reading what I have produced, I am unable to detect the difference between what came easily and when I had to sit down and say, “Well, now it’s writing time and now I’ll write.” There’s no difference on paper between the two.” 

I’m not sure I’m thatconfident, but I still think most of it is in my own head. Getting past that is 9/10s of the battle. And God help me, I’m going to win. There are more articles on the subject of writing and motivation on the internet than you could possibly imagine, so I know this isn’t a unique problem. That alone is encouraging. I know I’m a great writer. I can do this. And though it often feels impossibly hard, there’s nothing else I’d rather be doing.

Nobody Tells Beginners…

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I recently came across a video by Ira Glass (this video: http://vimeo.com/24715531) and he talks briefly about what it’s like for creative types as beginners. It isn’t long, but as I sat listening to it, I realised that he was entirely correct. That feeling—that you have good taste, that you know what you’re trying to do is brilliant, but that what you’re actually seeing in front of you isn’t, well, your best work—I know that feeling. I’ve been living that feeling for the last several years as I’ve worked and sweated over my novel.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I’m trying to broaden my reading horizon and discover new talent to help inspire and instruct my own writing. In that search, there have been innumerable times when I’ve set the book I was reading down, and just said, “wow”. I’m sure you’ve had that feeling too, at some point. When you read something that just hits the right spot, touches you where nothing else has before, or finally puts words to that nameless feeling you’ve been carrying around inside you for years, possibly without even knowing it. It’s times like these, when I set that book down and audibly release a profound sigh, that I realise something: My work doesn’t measure up. How can I compete with this guy, who just blew my mind? I’ve never written anything half so meaningful or true. What, in my brief years on this earth, could I possibly have experienced or come to understand that would be worth anyone’s time to read? What could I know or understand that would change someone’s life? How presumptuous of me to even try!

...been there.

Well, I don’t know. But I’ve decided that’s not going to stop me from trying. I’m sure one of my favourite authors, Hemingway, didn’t set out to try and change the world when he wrote For Whom the Bell Tolls. He just had a story, had experienced something himself when he was in Spain during the war, and decided to share it. It turned out that what he set down there was something immortal, because it was true. The people there might not have been real, the words the spoke might have been fabricated. But the experience, the feeling, the ideas were true. There are probably only a handful of people alive today who were there in Spain during that time, fighting in those mountains against the fascists. But everyone who reads that book can relate to the emotions there. And that’s what makes it timeless.

So back to the video by Ira Glass. I don’t have to write something profound. In fact, the less you are conscious of what you’re writing, the less presence you as the author have in it, the more natural and compelling it’ll probably be. I have a few notes I keep to refer to when I’m working on my book, and at the top of the page are a few quotes from some authors I hold dear. One of them is Frank Herbert, and among the several quotes of his there is this one: “Looking back on it, I realize I did the right thing instinctively. You don’t write for success. That takes part of your attention away from the writing. If you’re really doing it, that’s all you’re doing: writing.” It’s simple, to the point, and explains the reasons behind why I usually have trouble when I’m writing. I’m too involved as the author.

So when we begin, we have this period, as Mr. Glass said. This period where we don’t really like what we’re doing. We can see that it has potential, but it misses the mark. As I read and re-read my novel, I’m right there. I’m in that place. There are parts that are good. Damn good, if I’m honest. But there are other parts that are grasping, weak, and fall far short of where I intended them to land. I have to re-write those places. But you know what? That’s good. I’m glad I found them. Because when I wrote them, I thought I was nailing it, that they were really good. With the power of my future vision, I can see now that they weren’t that great. But that means I’ve grown, and that what I’m writing now is better than anything I’ve ever written before. I’m going to get through this time of doubt and misgivings, and come out the other side a better author. Right now, I’d probably just settle for “published author”, but I’ll take what I can get. They’re all stones in the path to success, so I know that eventually everything will turn out alright. As Churchill said, ”never, never, never quit.”