Black Gate

Image by Drajt from Pixabay

Good morning, Readers!

There has been, shall we say, a vigorous discussion happening online about speculative fiction, and whose favourites ought to be considered canon and thusly paid homage for all eternity, regardless of either their fraught legacies or the brilliance of newer fiction. For myself, I find it particularly odd that speculative fiction, particularly science fiction, famous for writing about the future should have adherents that are so backwards-looking. These people insist that past fiction should be heralded as beacons of the genre, and all future writers should know everything about these works.

Except that they don’t. Not really.

I’m not the only one to feel this way. John Scalzi has written a couple of blog posts along these lines recently, and I find I agree with him. It isn’t necessary for up and coming writers to know everything about writers or stories of the past. They’re writing fiction, not a dissertation on the history and development of fiction.

And more, with a world that is privy now to a greater pool of stories; a great influx of them having little to do with the distinctly European roots and focus of fictions past. From primary sources, including archaeology and repositories of mythologies previously unknown to us, to modern writers drawing on their own cultural traditions and morays, what old white men wrote back in the day is decreasingly relevant.

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Pick a character. I’m the shady ranger on the far left.

Good morning, Readers!

As many creatives these days, it feels like the world is getting harder and harder to create in; so much tragedy, hatred, anger and inhumanity filling up the airwaves. Couple that with an uncertain future for many of us, who have been furloughed from our jobs due to the pandemic. It’s hard to get creative when the stress of trying to ensure we have a roof over our heads and food in our bellies is taking up so damned much of our physical, emotional and mental energy.

For many, what was once difficult — creating — is now almost impossible. I know I’ve been struggling a great deal with it, and based on the chatter I’m hearing from my friends and creative circles, I’m not the only one.

I have good days and terrible days, but I’ve managed to pull myself along in my creative work, and I figured I’d tell you how. Maybe it’ll help you get work done, too.

This, of course, comes with the usual caveat that all advice, especially as it pertains to any creative endeavour, should be taken with the largest possible grain of salt. What works for one person won’t work for everyone, or perhaps anyone else.

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This might work.

Good morning, Readers!

I’ve been doing a great deal of thinking about my writing and my writing skills… or lack thereof depending on who you ask. I fall short in a lot of areas, particularly any story that is supposed to be short. My inability to keep things short has helped me with the whole novel-writing thing I love to do, but I’m slightly miffed at myself for being so inept at something creative. Short stories simply aren’t my forte. I mean, the last time I tried to write one, it became a two volume epic. So, there’s that.

It’s not like I’ve never written anything short. I was the short story champion in high school, and my short story writing ability got me one of the highest QCS (Queensland Core Skills) scores in my class back when I was exiting secondary school. My marks dragged down my eventual exit OP (Overall Position) score, because high school was hell and I didn’t cope.

Anyway, the point is, I stopped writing short stories and now I feel like I have simply lost the knack.

I would like to fix that. But, you know, without the pressure of it counting towards any kind of grade.

And, I’d like for us all to join in for a communal, no pressure, bit of shared creativity.

Let me explain.

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I’ve always wanted a proper fountain pen. I still don’t have one. I should fix that.

Good morning, Readers!

This blog post is personal to me and my experience with writing and publishing, but I thought a few of you might be able to relate.

I am, despite my better judgement or desire, an ambitious person. I try not to be. Or at least, try not to be so ambitious. I try to find contentment where I am. I struggle to, however.

You see, I don’t think my ambitions are all that great. I don’t want millions of dollars. All I really want is for my writing to reliably sustain me. That it pays my bills, and even gives me a little left over for fun things like travel… and the ability to support my video gaming and artistic hobbies. In publishing, however, that is one hell of an ambition. Even published and celebrated authors are forced to work outside of writing to feed, clothe and house themselves.

There’s not much money in publishing, to be frank.

Sure, some writers hit it big. People looking on, who might not know what it’s like in the trenches, would be forgiven in assuming that writers are doing far better than they are, what with such high profile authors out there. Those authors, however, a rare. The vast majority of us, published or not, languish in the dark, having to work elsewhere in order to support ourselves and our writing.

In my case, I work a full-time job as a receptionist and a side-job as a martial arts instructor.

Or I did. Before the plague.

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