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 This is a continuation of my blogging here at WdC |
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This will be a blog for my writing, maybe with (too much) personal thrown in. I am hoping it will be a little more interactive, with me answering questions, helping out and whatnot. If it falls this year (2024), then I may stop the whole blogging thing, but that's all a "wait and see" scenario. An index of topics can be found here: "Writing Blog No.2 Index"  Feel free to comment and interact. |
| Novel #11 The end of 1998 saw a 66300 word novel appear, Comeback. After Some Other People, it was something of a letdown at the time, but reading it nowadays, it isn’t that awful. As it was, I sent it to 2 publishers and an agent, but never heard from any of them. I think my biggest problem at the time was that it was a real departure for me. This one was just a thriller. No horror, not fantasy, no monsters, nothing supernatural – just three people not coping at all with anything, and their lives – their second chances at lives – spiralling out of control. It was also written in an odd way. The opening scene with the taxi driver was written while I was in high school, while the ending in the hospital was written a few years later. It was only when I got them together a few years later again that I realised it was the same story and this was born. I had a character first, and the story came from what happened to him. At the time, it seemed forced, I guess. Nowadays, it is how I’ve had more success with my writering – character first. And maybe it started here for me? It tells the tale of a British guitar hero from the 1960s and 1970s now living in Sydney. He chances upon a US singer who made his name in the 1970s, who had come to Sydney to try and revive his career in musical theatre. Both are down on their luck, but this meeting inspires them to try and get together for one last chance at fame. This results in a rather demoralising tour of country New South Wales. During the course of this the singer does something which jeopardises the tour and appears to kill himself, while the guitarist hooks up with a middle-aged, long-term fan. They end up in South Australia, and then things steadily go from bad to worse. There’s a lot of death, and some convenient career chances appearing, but the story itself is a different one for me. The guitarist was a combination of Eric Clapton and Jeff Beck; the singer was John Farnham, Del Shannon and Roy Orbison. And I wrote the whole thing as though I was seeing a movie in my mind. That often happens, but this was clear. I visualised the entire thing, and so my descriptions are somewhat lacking – I could see it all, so writing it down seemed superfluous. This is another story that I should go back and rewrite, especially the downfall of the singer, and the final confrontation in Port Lincoln. So while it’s certainly not the best thing ever written (and the ellipses are ever-present again), it’s still not too bad a story, I think. Having said all that, it seemed by this stage of my writing, I was finally getting the hang of putting things down on paper in a way that was almost believable. Excerpt: A crowd. That was all it came down to, that single beast that the multitude becomes when a performer is on stage. A crowd… Just staring at that anonymous sea made everything worth it. No matter what other emotions churn through a performer’s mind – feelings of nausea, worthlessness, inferiority, lack of confidence, foolishness – there is one over-riding factor that always drags them back to the same situation, over and over again. It was something Richard had always revelled in and sought, something that Michael had deliberately gone out of his way to forget. And it swamped over the two of them in a tidal wave of love. Michael especially… he knew immediately he stepped foot upon the stage that that really was what was missing from his life. Richard had been one hundred per cent right. That one simple, little word, that one feeling that really drove everyone who ever appeared on stage to go back again and again, no matter how bad they knew they were. The Crowd… And their power over the crowd… He had let his other emotions get the better of him last time he had done this, the vomiting and fear had made him forget how good this really could feel. But this time it was different… but also the same. Different to the way he remembered it, but the same, he knew, as it had probably felt to him when he had first started. The small club atmosphere, the faceless crowd having some features, all eager and happy just to see and hear him play, the sounds of people having a good time and enjoying themselves, a partner living up to and feeling and contributing to the whole scene as completely as the crowd. He would never have dreamed it would have felt this good again… “Fuckin’ brilliant,” Richard whispered in awe as he emerged from the bathroom, having towelled himself down. Both were sweating profusely – due more to nerves than any great heat or exertion – and Michael’s fingers actually hurt, but it was worth it; the crowd here at the hotel had been larger than either could dare dream of when they had started all of this – full, the barman had said, and that meant in excess of five hundred people from a town with a population of less than five thousand – and, though not as enthusiastic as especially Richard would have liked, deeply appreciative of the music. Especially the music… A thriller, I guess, with a tragic ending, and this one was definitely based around the characters – they had come before I had a story to put them into, and this was a very real case of me writing their tale. Even the ending was not what I had really planned on doing, but I made the love interest a money-hungry bitch and it was all maybe too much a character change in her, but I was focused too much on the musicians. However, reading through the story for this… it is not too shabby. I think this would make a great film. Maybe… one day… |
| Writing Westerns Well, this was unexpected! Those who have listened to me on the radio have heard Roger, the guy who hosts the show. Well, he is a rather accomplished author. He spent a lot of the 1990s and 2000s writing Western novels (as in, the US Old West) which he sold to a UK publisher, and which still sell in the European market. Yes, an Australian writing a US genre selling to the UK and popular in Europe… only in writing, huh? In fact, I recently learnt that he is in the top 50 authors for number of books traditionally published in this country! He now self-publishes historical romance because he’s older and feels he’s earned the right. Hard to argue. Anyway, he found my published Western short story and he loved it. So we did a Zoom call with his publisher, who is looking for some new Western writers, and his advice is what I am going to share now (and, yes, I did ask, and, yes, he said I could). 1) Setting The setting needs to be in a desert region of the United States or northern Mexico, in a town, a farm area, or the open plain/canyons. It is really that simple. And, more importantly, it needs to be set in a time when horses were the only mode of transport (oh, and shank’s pony). Contemporary westerns, westerns set in big cities, and westerns with cars and things just do not sell as well. The publisher said that this part of US history is very much mythologised and probably never really existed the way it is portrayed on the big screen or in populist fiction, but it is what is expected by readers. 2) Characters This was simple – think John Wayne, Gary Cooper, Henry Fonda, et al. The white hat wearing good guys, rather stoic, quick on the draw, but with very few friends. He made a point that the shades of grey hero as exemplified by Clint Eastwood and Lee Van Cleef might work on the big screen, but this does not translate to good book sales. There is a trend towards female main characters, and the only difference is they are shown with more compassion and have to be more reluctant to use a gun, but, in the end, they should end up being (and I quote) “Gary Cooper with breasts and a cute face”. 3) Relationships There should be very few. You might have two friends or a hero and a sidekick, and that is all fine and dandy, but they do not gather other friends (unless you are doing recurring characters and this is a friendship origin story). They also do not gather love interests. A hero (or heroine) should never be shown in an intimate relationship unless they are married. There is no hanky-panky, no extra-marital sex, no casual flings – nothing like that on the page. In fact, treat your female MC as a nun and you’ll be right. If a hero spends a night in the room of a saloon girl, then do not show it. After all, he could have slept on the chair. And never mention having sex. Readers further do not like young children. It might have worked in the film True Grit, but not on the page. If the Widow Spanky has 2 kids, that’s fine; if a kid becomes an off-sider, that’s not. Children should not be a part of the story until they are 16 or so. 4) Weapons There are three weapons used – rifle, shotgun and revolver. You don’t have to mention the name or brand of them – readers tend to fill in the blanks – but if you do, do your research to make sure the weapons are era appropriate, and were actually used in the USA. Machine gun adjacent weaponry should only be used by bad guys, and cannons or heavy artillery by the army. Yes, that is not the way it happened, but the reader expectations are such. 5) Horses and Other Animals Do your research to make sure you know how far horses can travel in a day, what speed they can do, and for how long. Readers will know after so long. Heroes are allowed to have a trusty steed (think The Lone Ranger’s Silver), but if not, then horse transfer stations are expected. Horses should only be killed as a last resort or to give the hero a reason for being on foot or for seeking revenge or to make the stakes higher. Minimise horse death. No matter how hungry – they never eat horses!. Rattlesnake first. Heroes only work with cattle or sheep runs as temporary job. Dogs are rarely sidekicks in westerns; readers are not fans, apparently of having non-horse pets. Otherwise, just make sure the animals encountered lived in the region at that time. 6) Ending Unless it is the last book of a long running series featuring a recurring character and he is old, NEVER kill the hero on the page. Readers do not like that at all. Going further, each story needs to be a standalone. Even if you have a recurring character (or 2), a reader should be able to read a story without having read the ones before. Events from previous books might have an impact on the current one, but it should be alluded to such that reading that older book does not matter. It is a tough line to walk, but it is what the readers demand. Other things like length, language used, etc. is down to each publishing house. As a general rule, no swearing though, but blasphemy is fine. Don’t overuse cowboy jargon, but also don’t leave it out. Also make sure you have historical facts (number of states, names of states, names of local Indian peoples, etc.) correct. There are reader expectations. Westerns are growing in popularity again at the moment (the whole escapism thing, people yearning for a time when the USA was simpler), so it might be worth giving it a go. |
| I vs Me This is a re-post from my old writing blog. Why am I reposting something I already posted two years ago? Because I keep seeing it in writing here at WdC! So, this is a reminder post. As such, this is copy-paste (with some extra bits at the end). Deal with it. I received an email from a writing friend who was confused by an editor's changing of her "I" to "me" in a few sentences. So she asked me to explain how it works. Well, generally, I is in the subjective (the subject of the sentence when diagramming). This is "I went for a walk." On the other hand me is in the objective (the object of the sentence when diagramming). "The bull chased me." Me also appears after a lot of prepositions, as most come from the Latin and take the accusative or ablative. So, for example, "to" takes me. ("She sent a letter to me.") Between also takes me. "Between me and the cow was a fence." The confusion comes when the first person (I/me) is used in conjunction with another noun. "Mary and I went for a walk." "The bull chased Mary and me." Now, the secret to working out which is which is separate it into two sentences. "Mary and I went for a walk." --> "Mary went for a walk. I went for a walk." "The bull chased Mary and me." --> "The bull chased Mary. The bull chased me." One of the examples my friend had was: "The teacher told Elizabeth and I off." The editor, quite rightly, changed I to me. Why? The teacher told Elizabeth off. The teacher told me off. NOT: The teacher told I off. First person pronouns in the plural: the above rules apply with we equivalent to I, and us equivalent to me. When it comes to third person pronouns, the above rules still apply with he, she, they equivalent to I, and him, her, them equivalent to me… I think that explains it. I hope that explains it. |
| Graphic Novels Here’s something a little different – the format for writing a Graphic Novel, a short form comic (like in those old horror comic books, which are making a comeback) or something along those lines. This is if you are not working with an artist or are not an artist yourself – you have a story you think would work much better with visuals, and you want to format it so an artist can work with it. First, you need to have your story completely worked out. This is either written as a short story or as a detailed outline. If there are elements you feel need the visual element, then these need to be highlighted so your conversion of it to a graphic script is smoother. Second, each page needs to have panels. Three rules of thumb: 1) don’t over-use single-panel pages; 2) no more than 5 panels to a page; and 3) finish at the end of a page. Now, having said that, all of these rules are often broken, but they are good rules of thumb to go by. The title does not have to go at the top unless the publication you are submitting to demands it. But title must be on the first page. Assume an A4 page (or the US equivalent) is going to be used. Some publications ask that you show a mock-up of where the panels go for each page. Not all, but some. Some will also tell you how many panels, etc. they prefer per page, especially if what they want is out of the norm. For example, one Australian company printed a nice B4 sized comic, and they liked 9 panels per page (3x3) or equivalent. So, the rule, as it always is, is: (b}Always read the submission guidelines! You only need to write an order of where the people are standing once, and writing (as in panel X) subsequently is perfectly fine, but you need to indicate in your initial description where each person is, are they left or right of the panel, etc. Describe the images in the panel with as much detail as necessary to get your point across. Being over-prescriptive can see artists not wanting to work on it as they will not have their own agency. So, here is an example: PAGE 2/Panel 1 (upper left) Figure of Conan is silhouetted by lightning on top of mountain. Muscular and male. We see him from behind. He is wearing a cloak with no sleeves. In front of him, in the distance, is a ruined castle. Thought bubble: “The Castle of Thrydd. Time to face that cursed wizard Blackheart.” PAGE 2/Panel 2 (upper right) Conan, from behind, his battle-axe in his hands, pushes open the door. His muscles should be showing tension. PAGE 2/Panel 3 (full lower half) A giant of a man, twice the size of Conan (or more) strides toward Conan, holding a sword before him. His face is disfigured and he has scars on his body. Conan is on the back-foot, three-quarter on from behind, his axe held before him. MAN (speech bubble): “You dare enter the fortress of the mighty Blackheart, puny man? Prepare to die!” PAGE 3/Panel 1 (upper left) Large man swings his sword but Conan is ducking beneath the swing. PAGE 3/Panel 2 (central page) Conan leaps and swings his axe, opening up the torso of Large man. Large man’s head is thrown back in pain, Conan looks furious. A lot of blood. The castle’s interior is block stone-work. A picture of Blackheart is on one wall, not too big, but large enough to be clear. SOUND EFFECT: {Man screaming) Aaiiieeee! PAGE 3/Panel 3 (lower right) Man’s body is in foreground, dead. Conan is walking away, looking over his shoulder. CONAN (speech bubble): “The bigger they come…” Quick 2 pages (pages 2 and 3), 6 panels, and we have characters, a fight scene, a death, and the bad guy semi-introduced (name and image). The whole thing is 12 pages long. It may seem easy, but I find that it is not. You need to think visually while writing with words. To me, it is tough. But it still might be something to give a go. |
| Novel #10 The next novel took a while to write. I really wanted to make it a good one after what I felt was the success of Brothers In Arms. And, indeed, the story that emerged in 1998 was one I was probably proudest of until 2016. More than that, Some Other People clocked in at 87200 words. Once I finished it, and editted it, and then editted it again, I found a beta reader. My first ever beta reader for a novel! Then I sent it off. Over the course of the next 4 years it reached 8 publishers and 4 agents. The responses that were not form responses were encouraging. One agent asked me for $500 to represent me; by then I had a slightly better understanding of the publishing world and so rejected this request (registered U.S. agents do not get paid upfront, but apparently Australian ones insist on it). But the best were from Tor Books in the USA and Random House in Australia. If I’d had my druthers, I would have gone for Tor, but they wanted a face-to-face meeting… in the USA. No money, so no go. And so it was Random House. Under the guidance of an editor, I rewrote the bits they wanted me to rewrite (about 20%), and changed the format of the ending. A second rewrite followed. And then… the fiction editor left and the new fiction editor said she hated the work. Bang, gone, just like that, on the whim of one editor. I then sent the newly revised version out to a few more publishers (my records indicate 3), but nothing. I entered it in an unpublished novellist competition, was short-listed, but nothing else. Shame, as I think it is one of the very best long tales I have written. The story involves a narrator who is essentially unnamed (though he is James). He is involved in a car accident, and awakens in a hospital where he is the only patient and where he never sees the staff. He eventually escapes and finds himself in an outback Australian town. He decides to look for the people who cared for him, and finds himself at an Aboriginal township. There he meets Mother Makura who takes him to the village of a strange cat-like people. There he meets and falls in love with the leader’s daughter. But he also unwittingly leads the humans to them, and a battle ensues in which many die. And out of this the narrator loses… There’s other subplots – saving his lover from a cellar, dealing with authorities, etc – but that’s the tale in essence. A tale of outcasts finding one another and love lost. A sad story, but I still like it. Okay, there’s still a few clichés – the accent I gave the cat-people was a little odd, and the narrator is a little self-obsessed… as well as the ever-present love affair with the ellipsis – but there’s also some good bits. The scene the morning after the narrator and his lover first have sex, and he wakes up in her cave is one I can’t believe I wrote, and the description of itching under bandages still makes me scratch my arms. More good than bad, I reckon. Excerpt: I did not realise that we were in a village. The buildings were not at all what I had expected after seeing and being inside their hospital. In fact, buildings was entirely the wrong term; dwellings was closer to the mark. For that was all they could have been. The ones which I actually could make out (what few of those there were… most seemed to be completely invisible) were carved in simple design out of the trunks of trees, appearing as no more than scars caused by some ancient bush-fire, leading to what I assumed were large, underground complexes, similar to the one beneath the spirit tree. But these were few and far between; generally, all that I could see were trees, plain and simple… However, I was not taken into any of these; Mother Makura and I were led – Peter holding her hand, the girl I had loved keeping a firm grip upon mine, her head resting upon my upper arm – down a road between the trees, a path which I would not have otherwise have even noticed had I happened to stumble into this part of… Of where? Of the forest, that was where… The huge, enormous wooded area in this part of the country… Huge, enormous, wild, uncharted… I had to force that from my mind. All my grandiose plans of working out where this place was had evaporated with that numbing trek to get here; almost three hours of walking at a pace I thought faster than possible for some-one who had not made competing at the Olympic Games their life’s ambition. All that really mattered was that I was here now… Here with her. And we were walking through the village she called home… And which I had called a prison not so long ago… Again, memories – unpleasant, uncomfortable memories – that had to be forced from my consciousness… Then we veered to the left and I was taken down another track, a narrower one, to what looked like a clearing, but with a huge, over-hanging canopy of branches from the nearby trees, carefully cultivated to cover the entire area like a natural roof. It was an incredible sight, especially in the very dull light that was available to my eyes. And all I could do was look around at the surrounding trees in awe-struck wonder… And through the thick trunks, and in what little light was afforded by the almost completely hidden moon I thought I saw a glimpse of something else. Something out of place. I slowed… and kept my eyes as well on it as I could without letting on what I was doing exactly. I sudden flash told me all I needed to know. The glint of the moon on glass. It was a building. A building set well back into the trees. So, yeah, for many years this was the story I considered one of the best long work I ever wrote. Part of me thinks I should go back and revise it, update it to 2025, but there is another part of me that thinks maybe its time has been and gone. Still, I reckon this is not too shabby at all. |
| Types Of Writer So, this is a personal opinion piece. Completely understand if you avoid it. To my mind, there are 4 types of writer (well, 5, but we’ll get there). None is any better than any other (sort of); they are just different ways that writers approach what they have written. So, let’s go through them. Repeating myself: This is my opinion. I know that won’t stop the abuse, but it is an important disclaimer here. 1) The Introvert. This is the writer who writes – often a lot – but does not share what they have written. Their piles of notebooks and journals are only opened when the writer themselves wants to go back and re-read something, but no-one else in the universe sees their work. They might even burn it after writing. Or else it never sees the light of day until they die. It is often because they feel what they write is too personal, but there is also a fear of rejection or being laughed at for even the simple act of writing. But, whatever it is, they write for an audience of one – themselves. 2) The Uncritisable (the “Idol”). This is the writer who only shows their work to people who will give them affirmation, tell them they are wonderful, and stoke their ego. That last might be a little unfair – often these writers have self-esteem issues anyway – but that is how it seems to an outsider. They have a very select group who read their work, and these people are uncritical, only give positive feedback, and lead to the writer thinking they are really wonderful and the very best. This is fine, but it can create issues if they do decide to go public and we get what I call “Idol Syndrome” ("20240131 #2 Criticism & The Writer (Idol Syndrome)" ). Unfortunately, these people can so easily be discouraged, but that is a discussion for a different day.3) The Excited Puppy. This is the writer who puts everything out there in the public eye, regardless of quality. They just have to show the world what they are doing, they always talk about their latest projects, they blog about writing, their entire portfolio can be found online somewhere, and they are always directing people to their works. Sometimes even their drafts, their unfinished works, their ideas, their outlines and their character sketches (and anything else) are also all online for the whole world to see. Writing makes them excited, and they just want to share every single morsel with the world. This does mean that a lot of their stuff is not well-edited and not brilliantly written, as they tend to just publish and be damned. They also tend not to take criticism well or simply ignore it, because they claim they are not doing it for approval or otherwise, they just want to share what they see as their talent with the whole world. 4) The Accountant. These are the ones who take their writing very seriously. They pore over each sentence, hire editors, use beta readers, look at their writing as more than just an art, but as a business they are engaged in. They do tend towards being humourless, and take criticism to heart, feeling each comment about stories that didn’t click with readers, and trying to adapt and adopt and change to keep as many readers and publishers and editors and agents as happy as possible. They can have a tendency to overwork a story, not sure when to stop editing and changing and making things feel perfect. They are very critical of their own work, and will only put things out there they consider very good, and so have a heap of other work no-one sees. They are also very often quite traditional in their publishing aspirations. That’s the four writer types I have come across. A person can straddle two of them, and can definitely go from one state to another, and they tend to go in this order (and straddle the ones beside them), but it is circular because Accountants can become Introverts as their perfectionism prevents them from showing anybody what they have written. All have positives and negatives, and none, really, in the end, are better than each other. But I mentioned a fifth one earlier. And one that is not as good as the rest. This is the last one. 5) The Gunner. This is someone who does not write, but they are going to one day. They are “gunna” do it… honestly. They are the sort of person who tells a writer their great idea, or say to others they will write something “one day” because of how fascinating their lives have been, but never do. They annoy writers who are working by constantly telling them about their ideas. They might even grab a notebook – or a dozen – from the newsagent but that’s about the end of it. And they are extremely critical of everything everyone else writes. Because when they do it themselves, they will be the best and better than the lot of them. Writers who actually put pen to paper find the Gunner annoying and non-writers just consider them a joke. But they are out there. And they always seem to find me when I’m writing at the pub… Non-writers don’t count and definitely shouldn’t be denigrated. People have different ways of expressing themselves through their arts, or they are people who just like to appreciate the art of others. They are the readers of the world, the people who watch movies, listen to music, go to galleries. It doesn’t matter that they don’t write. They have no aspirations in that regard. More than that, they are great for one very important reason: they are the audiences. And that’s my opinion. |
| The Fallen Hero There is something that is done often, and that is the Fallen Hero Arc, also known as the Corruption Arc. It does mean a depressing story, usually, as a true tale of this style has very little redemption except in the long-term, hard-earned, but it can lead to a fascinating character. So, what is it? The Fallen Hero is someone the reader sees lose his moral compass, his “way”, over the course of the story. Most of the time, it is not the central thrust of the story, but something that happens while greater events occur around, but sometimes it can provide the narrative thrust. We see a person who acts heroic, but then something happens, or lots of little things happen, that make them question what they are doing until, finally, there is a straw that breaks the camel’s back, and they start down the side the reader would consider “bad” until they are no longer heroic, and are either an anti-hero or even a villain. The most obvious one would be the fall of Anakin Skywalker over the course of Star Wars Episode 3: Revenge Of The Sith. His concerns are pushed aside by those he trusts, one he is not sure if he can trust offers what the others cannot, then he is offered a hope of something, but when it looks like this could be taken from him, he protects the bad guy and joins him. Then he fights his best friend and kills his lover. Classic Fallen Hero. For a character to follow this arc, there needs to be a few things: 1) An initial genuine sense of the heroic. This is not Joe Blow down the servo becoming a bad guy; this is someone regarded as a hero to people. 2) A sense that something is not going the way the hero’s world-view agrees with. It needs to be subtle at first, then build up. 3) An inciting event that makes the hero’s already questioning internal conflict switch to the other side. 4) An opportunity for this character to solidify the negative nature they now express. 5) An act that makes them “everything they used to hate” (TM Chris Jericho). The inciting things can be people in their ear, their changing attitudes, societal events, overhearing something, seeing something, an inability to affect the change they desire, or (usually) a combination of some/all of these. For a character to go through a successful Fallen Hero/Corruption Arc, it needs to be shown that the change makes sense for the character. Then there is redemption. Let’s go back to Star Wars. When did the redemption occur? Episode 6 – Return Of The Jedi. It was hard-earned for all involved. And it took a long time. And sometimes the main reason for turning someone bad is to do the redemption later on. Okay, let’s look at my favourite arc – a professional wrestling one. In 1987, Randy Savage was a bit of a tweener with some bad guy tendencies. He lost the Intercontinental title at Wrestlemania 3 to Ricky Steamboat in a match that stole the show, which is saying something considering Hulk Hogan v Andre the Giant headlined. Well, the crowd started to appreciate Savage for his skill and for his manager Miss Elizabeth. At Wrestlemania IV, with the backing of Hulk Hogan and the crowd, Savage won the tournament for the vacant world title. He was a hero and beloved. Over the course of the next year, Hogan started to needle Savage, and Savage turned on him, so at Wrestlemania V. he lost the title to Hogan. And he lost Miss Ellizabeth. This started a downward spiral where, come Wrestlemania VI, he was facing the everyman character Dusty Rhodes who, with the help of Savage’s former manager Miss Elizabeth, defeated Savage. He had bottomed out. Leading up to Wrestlemania VII, Savage cost the Ultimate Warrior the title, and at VII, they fought (my favourite ever Wrestlemania match) with a loser retires stipulation. Savage lost, and his new manager, Sensational Sherri, turned on him until he was saved by Miss Elizabeth. He was retired, but he got the girl, and the crowd loved him again. Fast forward to Wrestlemania VIII in 1992 and he defeated Ric Flair for the world title, and was a hero from then on. 5 years to become the hero he deserved to be. And then there is Lancelot. Arthur’s best friend, He fights by Arthur’s side, conquers monsters and bad guys, and is trusted… then he has it with Guinevere, he and Arthur fall out, then, at the final battle, he returns to help Arthur and dies on the battlefield a hero once more. But not every fallen hero gets a redemption arc. Harvey Dent in the Batman comics went from beloved attorney general to the villain Two-Face, and stays a bad guy. Michael Corleone tries to stay out of his family business in The Godfather by becoming a war hero, but is then drawn in by the attempt on his father’s life. Even in Part III, he tries to get out, but cannot. Some might be redeemed in the actions that lead to their death, like Lancelot, but most do not. They become the bad guy, the villain, the antagonist, and we, the reader, go along for the ride. It does take a skilled writer to make the face-heel turn work so the audience believes it and even has sympathy for it happening, but there is not harm in trying it. Why not give it a go? |
| Jargon Following on from my column on technical terms ("20250514 Technical Terms" ), this came up – jargon. I did mention words and phrases that have different meanings to the norm, but these are actual words in formal use. Here I am going to look at some with even more niche meanings, but which are not official words or phrases. They are not technical terms – they are just words and phrases used on the job.Why? Because when writing about a group of people who know one another well or a well-established group or profession, you might want to portray them as having a language all their own. Still English, but different enough. It makes your world unique, and can be a part of world-building, creating that jargon-laden language so many have. Telling you how to do that is long and complex, so what I’ll do is list a bunch of them and hopefully you can see where the ideas come from, and utilise this to create your own. So, this is words, abbreviations, acronyms and initialisations that I have picked up in my various researches that are not exactly technical, universal terms, but are on-work jargon. Code Brown – in hospitals or police stations, something really bad is happening involving poo. Human excrement. Shit. Crop-dusting – when a flight attendant lets out a slow, silent fart while walking down the aisle of the plane. DWI – in the USA, police use DWI for “Driving While Intoxicated.” In Australia, the term is DUI, “Driving Under the Influence”, and covers drug-driving as well (remembering our more liberal drug laws). But sometimes cops will mention DWI. Most people think this means the US version… Nope. “Driving While an Idiot.” Elf On The Loose – used in retail stores for when a child goes missing during the hectic Christmas shopping period. Elf On The Shelf – used in retail stores during the Christmas madness when a child has been found and parents are being sought. Face/Heel – the good guys and bad guys in pro wrestling, now used in describing movie or TV characters as well. Face comes from Babyface, while Heel comes from the fact nothing is lower than a heel. Gone Camping – in hospitals means a patient has been moved to an oxygen tent. Hicide – another Australian police term, it means a death caused by a speeding vehicle, especially used for a motorcycle fatality. Honey Wagon – the truck used to empty septic tanks, especially from private residences. ID-ten-T Error – another tech support phrase. Why? ID-10-T… id10t… Mark – in carny speak or pro wrestling, a mark is one who does not realise that the games are rigged or the outcomes of the matches are pre-determined. PEBKAC/PEBCAK – a computer term used by people who work in IT tech trouble-shooting, especially for large companies: Problem Exists Between Keyboard And Chair/Chair And Keyboard. PICNIC – UK version of PEBKAC: Problem In Chair, Not In Computer. PO Box – another hospital one, slightly morbid. A patient is described as a PO Box meaning they are being kept alive as a “Parts Only” receptacle, there for organ donation only. Roo Poo – chocolate covered sultanas or peanuts; used to disguise just what is being shipped for… reasons. Sand-bagging – in professional wrestling and circus performing, it means dropping the weight and stopping co-operating. Can be because of injury or just being a dick or, often, forgetting what they were supposed to do next. Scooby Snack – a police term for a suspect who has been bitten by a police dog. Shoot The Puppy –in business, making an unpopular decision, often seen as cold and heartless, for the greater good of a company or organisation. Status: DQ – hospital term meaning “Status: Drama Queen”. Used for a patient who is, well, a drama queen. If asked, the meaning given to a patient I have heard is “Diagnosis Qualified.” So, there’s a few jargon terms that are very specific for certain occupations or situations, and can be used to hide the real meaning, so as to not upset or alarm the public, or because they just want to keep their inner workings to themselves. If making up your own, you can probably see where a lot of these come from. And why they would be used. Some are funny and abusive, yes, but all of this goes towards making people doing certain jobs feel like they are a part of an elite or special group. And humour can help alleviate a stressful situation. Don’t be afraid to invent your own. Heinlein did it in The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress with TANSTAAFL: There Ain’t No Such Thing As A Free Lunch. And in the Long… series Pratchett and Baxter developed “stepping” as the ability to move between worlds. Don’t be afraid to experiment. And if it fails? Delete in draft #2. Have fun! |
| Novel #9 Brooke was written quite quickly – I had an idea and it just came out onto the page, logorrhoea. However, it was actually written in the middle of my writing the next novel – Brothers In Arms. This one I was really happy with. Clocking in at 78100 words, it was also the first novel to break that 72000 word barrier, and so be officially classified a novel by every publishing house I knew at the time (I have since found some that consider 78000 words to be the cutoff, and it breaks that as well, albeit only just… but Baen has 80k words, so not quite there). As is my wont, it falls into that genre of supernatural horror, with demons and the living dead and lots of death and destruction. Brothers In Arms tells the story of a young man, recently divorced, whose parents and twin brother have all died, as well as a young son. But his brother somehow comes back, and is pursued by otherworld entities that do not wish the dead to return to Earth. While these monsters are the “bad guys”, I like to think I put enough shades of grey in the story for the reader to think they were just doing their job; after all, what would the world be like if the dead could come back at will? And yet, in the end, there is a hint that maybe it was allowed after all… The story follows along smoothly. I like the character development, even though yet again I have a whiny, neurotic main character. His ex-wife is well developed, though, and the brother who comes back has just enough manic presence to be believable (I hope). The secondary hero – a cop – is a bit of a two-dimensional stereotype, but he is only important at the very end. I also like the way I have set up Adelaide, Victor Harbor and Port Hughes (all real places). I think I’ve captured a little something of the towns/cities in winter. At least, at that time. Port Hughes looks very different nowadays, after a golf course and subsequent development extension, and Victor Harbor has exploded in size. Also, the destruction scenes are surprisingly subdued for me. The biggest complaint I’ve had from readers is my description of the hunter at the very end of the story. The general consensus is that I put in too much description, and should have left more for the reader’s imagination. As it is, I described it using a Hieronymus Bosch creation as the template, and yet I probably agree with the criticism. If I ever do go back and try a re-edit, I’ll definitely reduce the physical description in this case. I was so happy with it that over the next year I sent it out to 6 publishers and 2 agents. I got one response, from an agent, who said it was not “the genre” he sold, even though supernatural horror was prominent in his advert. I edited it and rewrote bits of the middle and tried again in 1999 with (according to my records) 5 publishers, including one I’d sent it to before, albeit inadvertently. Surprisingly, it was this second try publisher who was the most encouraging. They wanted the full manuscript, and an alternate ending. I gave both. 6 months later a “sorry” rejection, but with 3 suggestions for improvements: amp up the blood and gore aspects, amp up the relationship between hero and ex-wife, and get into the hero’s emotional head a bit more. But by now I was rewriting another novel, and so put it on the back-burner, and never got around to rewriting it. Now, of course, I’d have to re-write absolutely everything and make it 2025… almost 30 years later… Excerpt: “Relax…” the husky voice said soothingly. “Just calm down…” “What?” Panic had taken a firm grip on Robert’s mind. The sight before him was one which should not even exist in his nightmares… but here it was. Tony, his own brother, drowned at Port Hughes ten years ago, was standing before him… although it wasn’t Tony, was it? It could not be him… No way known… “Robbie, I need your help,” the person pleaded. “This can’t be happening,” was the muted response. Robert could feel his mind going numb again… but he also knew he had to fight it. If – just if – he let go this time he probably would not come back… “You’re not real.” “But I am.” The figure shook his head sadly, but never took his eyes off Robert. His eyes… and finally a smile crept across Robert’s lips. “You can’t be Tony,” he whispered. “Tony had…” “Blue eyes, I know.” An uncomfortable pause, then: “And brown hair, like yours. My eyes are black, the eyes of death. And my hair has gone white. It’s just the way it is…” “NO!!” Robert started to scream, but a firm hand over his mouth silenced him. A cold, clammy hand, waxy to the touch, slightly damp… He shivered violently and the Tony-person released him. “Please, listen to me,” he begged. “It is me, Tony, Anthony, Tone, as you called me, whatever you want, but it is me…” “A ghost,” Robert stated firmly, nodding, grasping at this new conviction firmly with his mind. “If this isn’t a dream, then you’re a ghost… ow!” The figure slapped him hard across the side of the face. “Can ghosts hit people?” “Poltergeist, then…” Robert rubbed his jaw slowly, not really feeling either the blow or his hand on his skin. Despite all his best intentions, he could definitely feel his mind slipping away from him, going fast, going forever… “If you’re real, and this isn’t all just a bad dream…” And that comment seemed to stir something in the dark recesses if his mind. “You can’t be real. I just think you look like Tony. You’re just some little punk playing stupid fucking games with me, aren’t you?” He grabbed the collar of the too-big jumper the teenager before him was wearing and shook him hard. “So who put you up to this? Who’s making you do this to me? Answer me, dammit!” The look of fear which came over the other’s face was instantaneous. “You used to call me Toto because you knew I hated it,” he muttered. “And I called you Robber Robbie because you stole two dollars from mum’s purse when we were ten or eleven. You caught me sleeping with Jody Harmer’s undies one night when we were fourteen. And I saw you kissing our sister Kathleen’s best friend when we were fifteen and she was nineteen! You lost your virginity when you were fifteen to that Margie Carlyle girl from up the road! What more do you need to hear? I’m your brother! I’m Tony! And I need you now!” Robert’s whole body shook madly, without restraint and he was doubled over in pain. He could sense the nausea rising strongly in his chest and into his throat, but he did not want to go through that again. “I don’t believe you…” he growled. “But you’ve got to,” was the response. “I need your help…” “You’re a ghost, if you even exist. And ghosts don’t need help…” he returned thickly. His tongue was growing thicker in his mouth, or so it seemed, making speech difficult… and, for some reason, thought as well. “Robbie…” “I don’t think you’re even real…” Robert muttered as thought he teenager wasn’t even talking. “It’s the cold, and my grief and everything else. I’m imagining things. I’ve just got to see a doctor and everything’ll be all right, I know it will…” “Robbie…” “…I just know it will. It has to be. I’m seeing things and hearing things and feeling this and it’s just not right…” “Robbie, please…” “…I need help…” “Robbie…” Suddenly Robert’s head snapped up and his angry eyes seemed to push the youngster back. “Go!” he growled. “Just leave me be. I don’t want to know about it!” “But…” “GO AWAY!” he screamed, dropping to his knees and leaning his head on the damp ground, his wet hair plastered about his face like a coating of wet mud. Nothing came to him through his mental anguish… then footsteps walked briskly away, fading into the distance. He was alone again. Alone with his feelings and memories… alone in a world all his own… It is too much tell and not enough show, I stick with very superficial descriptions of what is internal, ignoring a lot of that physiology that hits, and the emotions are surface level. The rekindling of the romance also feels undeserved. And look at all those ellipses! But I think this story shows me (at least) that I was improving, even if a little, as a writer. I do still like this story, and is one of the very few older novels of mine I don’t mind re-reading. Maybe one day I will give it a do-over… Maybe. One day. |
| External Writerings May 2025 That time of the month where I list the writing I have done for Weekend Notes (and any other places that could be bothered publishing me online). Songs and films only this time. Just some favourites and a DVD review. Standard stuff, but lots to listen to! Remember, you do not have to listen to the songs (though I would be grateful if you did), but every look at the articles from a different IP address with no ad blockers helps me out in my increasingly desperate attempts to make money as a person who writes. My favourite songs from Eurovision... and most didn't make the final! Although the winner is here. Some songs about praying. Reviewing a film that I think is often under-valued from the Star Warts canon , for May the 4th (B with U). Some very different cover versions and reinterpretations of classic rock and pop songs. (And a Christmas carol.) My favourite albums released in 1965. Some absolute corkers here! 5 articles this month. I have to do at least 4 to keep my ranking in the top 25 contributors, so your clicks will also help me in that regard. As usual, if you want a certain topic covered in songs (I can do films and books as well), leave a comment below. I would love to give readers what they want. |
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