Allow Me To Sharpen My Quill

Ramblings Post #421
With age comes wisdom. Or regret. If given the option, I suggest you chose wisdom, as regret is messy and can't easily be fixed. It leaves you pondering What ifs and Could Have Beens. Whereas wisdom could involve a number of things including riches, adventures, great memories, hospital bills, weird scars, limps and the ability to confidently snort when somebody says something you've seen from the wrong end of an extended conversation in a language you don't understand. Don't ask, just accept this wisdom.   

Imagination should feel real. 

So, my brother ran some of my writing through AI and apparently I'm pretty good. I think. Well, maybe. Okay, I'm not completely sure. 

Let me explain. 

I've been writing, mostly for myself, since I was young. I started on the back of old unused ticket books in the back of my father's business and have since graduated to word-processor, although I still for some reason keep my copious notes and ideas on the backs of envelopes and post it notes. It's weird, I am well aware, because I have purchased notebooks to keep my notes in. But there is something about a scribbled note on the back of something. I'll even fold a blank sheet of paper in half to simulate an envelope. I really need to stop that. 

In any case, my brother was evaluating his own writing and constructed a rather elaborate prompt to give himself some feedback. Then I guess as a control, he ran something I sent him - I sent it to see if it held up as a story - and out popped a "review." It was only the first half I think, so it's kinda truncated in its evaluation, but I'm curious.  First, reading through that evaluation did get me to start my next draft, so if that was his plan -- it worked. Second, the output gives me a bit a pause, because reading it and then going back to the actual text I see a few "questionable items" in the critique. Which is odd, because it's the much vaunted AI, and I didn't think it was supposed to make the "errors" that it made. 

The story in question is alternate history fiction set in the 60s. And since our hero is black there should be some tension felt. One of the scenes involves my main character and a new friend bonding over rebuffing a character making racist statements. The AI saw this as giving my character encountering a chance properly address racism, which is true in part. But the scene was mostly to show how this world in which the story differs from our own, referencing several historical changes while avoiding an exposition dump. So, some of what it missed is that nuance, which I would expect it to miss. My issue is that AI confused the location with another setting, as the exposition/confrontation took place chapters before where the AI thought it did. 

Later, one of the supporting cast is encouraged to broaden how they view events by someone who has been in a similar situation. Up until that point, the supporting character had been narrowly focused as a contrast to the main, and I needed something to get there viewpoint to take on the broader scale of the story. The AI read it as a scene where a strong character got unneeded encouragement, undercutting them, not as a headstrong character being enlightened as why her focus was misdirected. It's not as egregious as the first critique, as again it's a nuance that I wouldn't have expected the Machine Learning to catch. And the suggestion I re-write or excise the entire character was troubling. So the AI wasn't quite the reviewer it originally looked to be. 

It also missed what I thought were pretty obvious early red flags for how my villain was shaped. It called them too "likeable" which was the whole point - the character was supposed to be a certain type of charming before the rug pull. So I'm not sure how to take that at all - properly disguised? Hidden so well the Machine couldn't see it? Poorly written? Ugh. 

But..., it did say I had a deft touch for story telling and comedy, as well as some promising talent that needed a good editor. Which I did like (insert schoolgirl giggle here). I appear to be a sucker for flattery. Appearances are not deceiving. In any case, I need my text in hand and printing out the bones of my current draft cost way more than I expected at FedEx this morning, so I need to get my printer fixed or get a new one. And after my morning duties - exercise, breakfast, search, clean - I will shortly be back at authoring. Attempting to author. Writing. 

Barkeep. Ice water. I need to keep my head clear. And three shots of whiskey. I need my imagination hot. 

It's in a box somewhere in here

Ramblings Post #416
There is a tendency of mine to revisit myself. To look back at my life to understand why I did what I did and how to either repeat or avoid that past outcome. This self reflection is probably something I need to do less of, as I'm fairly certain that I'm not gonna be five years old again any time soon, and that guy who owns that ice cream truck is more than likely retired, so my rehashing my selection like it's gonna happen again or make a major difference is moot. But still...  

Many years ago I sketched the outline for a comic book, among other things. The idea came to me in a flash - as many of my ideas do - and built upon it, concept on top of concept for months if not weeks. It was weird, anthropomorphic, based on popular college mascots at the time. That and some animals in logos of popular brands. Think of the characters from Zootopia, but less colorful or spunky or really animal like, and in a world of espionage and intrigue more like James Bond or Mission Impossible. I'd worked out a whole world, inflection points in the the history, and sketched out the story through 30 or so issues, including arcs. At one point I even tried sketching out the pages, trying my best to bring this vision in my head to life. It wasn't good. 

I wonder if I had persisted how well I'd be able to draw at this point? Hmmmm.  

In any case, I'd occasionally refine the story, creating more characters, deepening backstories and motivations, made drawings of maps of the whole planet, then smaller detailed maps of the capital cities of the various animal based factions complete with legends and then diagrams of secret bases. It's all in a folder somewhere in my house. Well, the story outlines at least, possibly the maps to now that I think about it. I need to look for it and see what I did. 

Or is this an excuse to delay my other projects instead of finishing them.  

Confidence in my own ability. That's always been my problem, second guessing myself when in those cases I proceed, I succeed. Because over time I get better. Like most of us do. Which is why I've always suggested that we should just start and understand that we will be...not good. But we will get better. 

At least, I've always suggested that to other people.  

Barkeep. The GOOD water. 

Toni Morrison

I haven't read a lot of Toni Morrison. I think it's odd that I'm about to write a piece about her when I wasn't that into her work. I thought she was an important literary figure, that her voice was powerful and commanded the space it required to be heard, but her subject matter wasn't in my area. But she didn't publish her first piece until she was almost forty, which in an of itself is inspiring to those of us still nursing our dreams. The reality is that she was majestic, her writing just not for me. It's kind of like recognizing the greatness of Gretzky. I didn't watch hockey, but what he had was undeniable. Morrison possessed that same something in a literary sense.

Even though she was the esteemed author of The Bluest Eye and Beloved, Nobel Laureate, and Pulitzer Prize winner, to me it was the interviews where she sounded like what she was...an extremely smart woman who wasn't about to take any shit. Oh, she was going to be dignified about it, but it was clear you could take all that whatnot to the other room. I remember the interview when a reporter asked her a question that seems to be re-occuring theme for all acclaimed black content producers - Jordan Peele was asked a similar question just recently - concerning when will they turn their focus to white characters. With a quiet grace, that seemed tinged with both disgust and weariness, she pointed out to the interviewer the ridiculousness of their question.

In the age of social media and vociferous outrage, she was an eloquent warrior from a before time, when the ideas we take for granted today were still fresh. No less passionate than those who rage and rend at the currently outdated bits of fabric of our reality, she had honed the articulation of those injustices to elevate comprehension of those who needed to hear. Her voice was to me a kind of feminine version of Morgan Freeman - warm,  soft, wise, thoughtful but hewn with gravitas that made even the simple sound like the words from on high. Maybe it's generational, but it made me feel comforted and secure that the person speaking knew of what they spoke. And then some.

I find myself relieved that she found success within her lifetime and that her voice was not only heard, but listened to.

Thank you Ms. Morrison. 

And sometimes you just don't...

Ramblings Post #359
I am a creator. I create stuff. I've dabbled in painting and making music, I have video games I want to design and I salivate over architecture and design. But my real passion is writing. Poetry, short stories, etc, the putting of pen to paper (or finger to keyboard) has excited me longer than I remember. I have a lot ideas in my head. A lot of them fade before I can get them out, bring them to life and explore them. But it is so great when I can. I kind of hope everyone has something like that that they can do for themselves.

I did not complete the write a novel in thirty days project for the first time in three years. It is disheartening. I don't feel good about that.

Okay, I wasn't very happy with the title I gave it either, so maybe that was it. Probably not though.

If you're unaware, for the past three years I've taken part in an online contest/program to write a book of fifty thousand plus words in the month of November.  The previous two times I participated I was able to put something together, really projects that had lingered for years in my head, finally taking the time outlining and plotting them properly, then committing to writing everyday. Because I tend to think about a lot of things, this contest/program helps me work on my focus. Two years ago I managed a good first draft of a semi-autobiographical story of life in Atlanta for a group of middle aged black guys who didn't deal drugs (Wow!) and last year I put together a good first draft of a alternative history story that involved airship racing in the early 60s. This year was supposed to be the first draft of the first book of my always evolving sci-fi epic. Planets, spaceships, battles, intrigue, betrayals, heartbreak, triumph, all that. I thought that I had the first book properly plotted, had structured it to lay out the keys to the next few books in the series, had my main characters mostly developed but flexible, and then one thing led to another, it all went for naught and there I was planning twenty thousand word weekends.

As one famous author put it, "the only way to write is ass in chair." I did not keep my ass in a chair. Fifty thousand words is just over sixteen hundred words a day, which is a lot or little depending on your point of view.  To honest, there have been days before when the words just flow and sixteen hundred words is a warm-up and then there are days where you just aren't feeling it and if you can get five hundred words you've climbed a mountain. The trick was to just keep writing through the five hundred (or two hundred) word days until the good days come back. I did not do that this time.

This month was wonky. Way too many other things happened which encouraged too many not writing days. There were the bowling nights, the extended eating out with friends sessions, general I haven't seen the sun in two days fatigue, a brief bout of illness, and extensive process changes at work. By the time I sat down to write my brain had turned to mush.

And when I was inspired, instead of moving the story forward I got stuck, on building character relationships in small intimate scenes that weren't in my outline or figuring out planetary logistics that could be cleaned up later or crafting authentic background people who might die in the next chapter. Which is great. In the second or third draft! The goal of the writing month was to finish, get it all on paper, which would then allow you to go back to fix, expand and polish. But pressed for time I still found myself writing and re-writing conversations to give side characters dimensions, adding in scenes that I realized were missing or trying to shoehorn in what I thought were great bits of prose. Oh, I've written this great speech that my protagonist is supposed to overhear that will inspire them to do this other great thing later, but the scene its a part of doesn't work since I made those other changes, so,  what I need to do is build a completely new scene around THAT speech. Note: That is not how you finish writing a damn book. I know I have to just rewrite the whole piece like that speech doesn't exist and move on so I can be done. Done is the important thing. Because revision is easy by comparison. Not much easier, but easier. It was great speech though. An inspiring get off your ass you don't know how good you got it sort of speech. Trash now.

That I didn't finish in the time I allotted myself or that the program is over is now irrelevant. I will finish this book. Admittedly my changes do make for a stronger read but that wasn't the place for them. I need to get my self-discipline back. Tighten up as they used to say.

I need to tighten up a lot.

Barkeep. Apple juice. No, just the apple juice, no whiskey in it. Seriously. I am not kidding!