Chuck Wendig: Terribleminds

Apple-Obsessed Author Fella

Archives (page 104 of 466)

Five Things Kevin And Delilah Learned Writing Kill The Farm Boy

Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom, a hero, the Chosen One, was born . . . and so begins every fairy tale ever told.
            
This is not that fairy tale.
            
There is a Chosen One, but he is unlike any One who has ever been Chosened.
            
And there is a faraway kingdom, but you have never been to a magical world quite like the land of Pell.
            
There, a plucky farm boy will find more than he’s bargained for on his quest to awaken the sleeping princess in her cursed tower. First there’s the Dark Lord, who wishes for the boy’s untimely death . . . and also very fine cheese. Then there’s a bard without a song in her heart but with a very adorable and fuzzy tail, an assassin who fears not the night but is terrified of chickens, and a mighty fighter more frightened of her sword than of her chain-mail bikini. This journey will lead to sinister umlauts, a trash-talking goat, the Dread Necromancer Steve, and a strange and wondrous journey to the most peculiar “happily ever after” that ever once-upon-a-timed. 

“Ranks among the best of Christopher Moore and Terry Pratchett.”—Chuck Wendig

“When you put two authors of this high caliber together, expect fireworks. Or at least laughs. What a hoot!”—New York Times bestselling author Terry Brooks

If writing alone is a soliloquy, writing with a co-author is more like improv.

Kevin: Collaborating is turbo fun. We trade off drafting chapters and it feels a bit like an improvisational game, because while I might have a vague idea of what Delilah is going to do in a chapter plot-wise, thanks to our rough outline, I never know exactly what’s going to happen or what kind of cliffhanger she’s going to throw me at the end of it. And the jokes slay me too. I quickly wondered why I waited so long to try it.

Delilah: So true. Getting a chapter from Kevin feels a little like seeing my Easter basket for the first time as a kid. When I write a book by myself, I always leave plenty of room for organic plotting, but in order to write a book with a co-writer, it’s important to have a solid road map so someone doesn’t veer off into a sticky swamp. But there’s still plenty of room for creativity within that outline, and I love looking at each chapter’s objective and trying to figure out how to delight and amuse the reader—and Kevin—by doing something unexpected or flipping a trope.

You’ve got to pick the right writing partner—and make it legal.

Kevin: Trusting your partner is key, especially in the writing and editing bits, but also: Have your agents work out a collaboration agreement. Because I hate worrying about business stuff, and once the agreement is worked out, you have no worries. It’s something your agents will be able to whip up amongst themselves pretty easily and it mostly involves contingency plans for unlikely scenarios.

Delilah: There’s an interesting push and pull in the co-writing relationship as each person discovers what’s a deal breaker for them and what they can feel free to let the other person handle. That trust is key to knowing when to let go—and to trusting that when something is important to you, whether a legal issue or a character arc or just a joke, that the other person will respect that. I feel so fortunate to work with Kevin because he’s a master of his craft, a canny businessman, and a great friend. If either partner has too much ego or if the power or skill differential is too broad, I feel like it would be really hard to keep that balance of professional respect and individual artistic license. You want to pick someone you genuinely like, whose writing you like, and whose business practices are in line with yours, and it helps if they’re on the same level as you are so it’s an equal partnership.

You’ll get the best synergy in person—preferably with fine cocktails and Spam™.

Kevin: If you can, get the initial breakdown done in person. And by that I mean just jotting down the characters, what they want, and what’s in their way—that’s a plot breakdown. The brainstorming back and forth is going to be more vibrant if you’re in person instead of skyping. And where you do it can make a huge difference. We were breaking down No Country for Old Gnomes in New Orleans while we were there for a convention. The convention hotel had a griffin on their room key cards and we looked at it and said, “We should have a griffin in this book.” I honestly don’t think it would have occurred to us otherwise and now we have a gryphon on the cover. And then we went for a walk in the city, soaking up this amazing atmosphere and maybe a liter of rum drinks, and we wound up on Frenchman Street, enjoying live music in bar after bar and taking notes on ideas the whole time.

Delilah: Gotta admit it: Storybreaking a pun book with Kevin is one of life’s greatest joys, and not just because of the rum drinks. The key to hammering out a plot for us appears to be good food, great cocktails, a novel environment, and being as open and supportive as possible. Most of our plotting is just us taking turns, saying, “That’s a great idea! And what if also this? And that? And some more drinks? And spam musubi?” And then the other person says, “Hey, that’s great!” And then we giggle a lot. I can’t imagine our books would have the same vibrancy and creativity if we were soberly skyping at 2 in the afternoon like it was a business meeting. As it is, we’re maximizing our creativity through sensory enrichment and the application of flaming tiki drinks. We want to write fun books, and we want to have fun doing it.

Yes, Virginia, it’s still going to be hard sometimes.

Delilah: Sounds pretty dreamy, doesn’t it? Write a book with one of your best friends and get that sweet book cash for just half the work? But it’s still a book, and it still requires time on task, just with an extra helping of diplomacy and courtesy. Kevin and I each have our own individual publishing and event commitments, and we don’t want to let one another down on our co-written book, which means there are all-nighters and frantic weeks of 6,000 word days to catch up after a con. Sometimes—although rarely—we disagree on something in the book, and it becomes a super polite dance of trying to decide how to move forward in a way that feels right for both of us. Is it worth it? 100% yes! But you shouldn’t go into a co-writing experience expecting nothing but roses.

Kevin: Yeah! Roses can be cloying anyway, and the whole point of co-authoring is to combine powers. Syncing up to maximize our strengths not only takes hard work but the expectation that the mesh will require such work. If everything was perfect with a chapter I sent over, honestly, that’s when I’d start to doubt. If I didn’t see Delilah tweaking and refining my stuff and inserting delightful jokes I’d wonder if she read it. And because our writing processes in addition to our schedules are different, allowances obviously have to be made for workflow. The fact that Delilah is even capable of 6K-word days still boggles my mind when I write at a more plodding pace of 1-2K per day and constantly believe I’m running behind.

You’ve got to learn to say, “Why not?”

Delilah: So much of writing is about being open to possibility and not letting your brain say, “No, that would never work.” Kevin first pitched Kill the Farm Boy to me at an airport barbecue joint in the Dallas airport after a great signing. Three years later, here we are. At any point, we could’ve let conventional wisdom kill the project. Is the title too silly? Do people want a funny book? Will co-writing be too weird or difficult? Can we really do this in Fantasy? Can we really make that many jokes about elf boners? Instead of asking if we were allowed to do it or if it would sell, we just let ourselves have as much fun as possible. Any time I think a chapter might be too out there or wacky, I write it anyway and send it to Kevin, and most of the time, he digs it. That’s how books get made—you pick an idea that’s too crazy to work and just write the hell out of it in exactly the way that makes you feel the most alive.

Kevin: Yes. And because of the collaboration, we both feel safe writing some wacky stuff because we trust the other one to tell us if it works. And when it does—which is most of the time—it pushes us to take more creative risks. Delilah recently wrote a chapter for book three that was an extended punny riff on a particular body function that folks usually don’t discuss and I had never seen anything like it before. I sat there flabbergasted and giggling after reading it and wondered if I could do something like that. Why hadn’t I tried? I made my next chapter an extended riff on something else and Delilah loved it and couldn’t believe I went there. Well, normally—if I’d been writing solo—I wouldn’t have! So the collaboration has challenged me and forced me to grow as a writer while remaining incredibly fun. 14/10, would recommend doing that thing you’ve always wanted to do.

Find out more about Kill the Farm Boy or order the book at the Tales of Pell website.

And if you want to find out who you would be in the world of Pell, take the easy and non-data-grabby name generator quiz!

Kevin Hearne: Website | Twitter

Delilah S. DawsonWebsite | Twitter

Kill The Farm Boy: Signed Copies from Worldbuilder | Indiebound | Amazon

Awkward Author Photo Contest Strikes Back: The Winner You Chose

And we have our You-Chosen Winner.

A reminder that this is the winner I picked — and this is the winner you picked.

That one is #10, and it gained an early, insurmountable lead in the voting that wouldn’t relent. And truly awkward, it is. It did, however, face some stuff competition between #18 and #9 (in second and third place, respectively).

Congrats to all.

Our two winners — please ping me at terribleminds at gmail so I can get you some SWEET SWEET PRIZES. Thanks all for participating, let’s get together and do this again sometimes. You bringing your A-Game — meaning, your Awkward-Game — with some awesomely uncomfortable authorial photos. You’re all super-weird. It’s wonderful. *applause*

Macro Monday Went Into The West, But Did Not Diminish

I HAVE RETURNED.

I have returned, in fact, from that place. Well, not just there — I bee-bopped around the Pacific Northwest with the family. Portland to the coast, then the coast to Seattle, with even a brief stop in the San Juans. It was lovely. The food is amazing. The sights range from “ooh” to “whoa” to “that’s so breathtaking I peed myself, for all the muscles in my body have gone slack in the revelation of the sublime.” I’ll pop some more photos at the bottom of this post, and also you can find the PNW photoset here — not it’s not robust yet, as I’m slowly processing and adding photos as I go.

It’s important to note that the photo at the fore of this post was taken with an iPhone X. Only tweaking I did was to the colors, using Lightroom. I took the DSLR, and also brought the new 100-400 lens, and only had that attached at the time of this shot — so I used the iPhone in the hopes I’d get a good image, and, well, there you go. Digital camera phones are increasingly bridging the gap between them and high-test photo equipment.

An example of one not taken with the iPhone, but rather, the DSLR:

Anyway, you get the idea.

Portland and Seattle are two very different, and very same, cities — they’re like family members. Portland is the scrappy younger sibling, an alternative artist, is really into weed and fancy sandwiches, doesn’t like to hold one job for any long period of time. Seattle is the older sibling, has a good job, interested in pop culture more than weird fringe shit, has mostly shed its free-spirited chaos and traded it for a little humility and grown-upedness, still dabbles in weed, because c’mon, way more techie, likes finer cuisine, etc., etc.

I really love the area.

Back now, in rangy, rabid Pennsyltucky.

Where it’s very humid. It was hot out in the PNW, maybe unseasonably so, but it was never really humid. Here it’s like walking through a sticky toffee.

What else is going on?

Hey, Darth Vader Annual #2 released, by yours truly, with sublime pencils by Leonard Kirk, inks by Scott Hanna and Walden Wong, Nolan Woodard on colors — they really made the issue sing, and I’m in awe of what they managed to do with my dumb words. You can find a review round-up here — I’m so glad people dug it. I know some didn’t dig my TFA adaptation as much, because that was really less of an adaptation and more of a translation — the job there wasn’t to tweak and add and find cool marginalia, but to take that film script and put it into comic book form.

So, it’s nice to see this is being well-received. Thanks, folks.

What’s weird is, for me, this is my only release left in 2018. (Well, there may be one other thing, but it’s secret and I can’t talk about it yet.) 2019 will be a big year — Vultures in January, Wanderers in July, plus some other stuff (like a seeecret comics project). But it’s weird for me to slow down, it’s feels… antithetical to how I normally do things? But that’s okay, too, as in the meantime I’ve got this brand new book to write, The Book of Accidents.

More as I know it.

(I’ll be announcing the winner to the Awkward Author Photo contest later today.)

Here, have some more photos.

BYEEEEEE.

Macro Monday Is Gone Fishin’

AHOY.

I’m outta here.

FOR GOOD.

Okay not really. I’m just traveling for the next mumble-mumble several days, so you won’t see me back with posts until sometime next week. In the meantime I will be cavorting around the Pacific Northwest, causing trouble and delivering shenanigans and doing a jig on your social norms and mores. Or something. Shut up.

In my stead, I have given you a flower.

That flower is a gayfeather. That is really its name.

At the bottom of the post is also a lovely, cuddly photo, in that it is a photo of a grass-carrying wasp cuddling a stung, paralyzed tree cricket as it levers the bug into a hole under a patio chair in order to feed the cricket to her WASP BABBIES.

Ain’t nature sweet?

Also, do not forget, this week is:

DARTH VADER, ANNUAL #2, by me and Leonard Kirk and with a Mike Deodato cover. It features Vader getting up to some REAL SHIT with Tarkin and Krennic and the nascent Death Star, y’all. You might get a little stardust in your eye if you’re not careful.

Have a great week, frandos.

Awkward Author Contest 2018: Winner, And Now It’s Your Turn

We have our first winner in the Awkward Author Photo Contest.

It’s this fella, who appears to be wearing himself on his own shirt.

I don’t know why I picked it. It sang to me. Like a sweetly awkward song. It feels earnest, authentic, but still preciously gooby.

WELL DONE, JD BUFFINGTON.

Now, it’s your turn.

Here are the rest — there are 40 more submissions.

They are utterly weird and wonderful. You will find some familiar faces in here, perhaps.

Your job now is:

Pick your favorite.

Just one.

JUST ONE.

Go to the comments section below.

Type in the number of your favorite photo — the number that corresponds with the photo in Flickr. Aka, the photo’s title.

That’s it.

Type nothing else, or your vote may not be counted.

Do not choose two.

Choose one, type only the number.

We’ll keep voting open till Wednesday, July 25th.

Enjoy. Vote. See you on the other side.

T.J. Berry: Five Things I Learned Writing Space Unicorn Blues

A crew of outcasts race across the galaxy in order to prevent the genocide of magical creatures. Part-unicorn Gary Cobalt is sick of captivity at the hands of human beings. On the day of his release from prison, he attempts to win back his faster-than-light stoneship in a game of skill. But Gary’s longtime nemesis, Jenny Perata, rigs the game and steals the ship out from under him to make an urgent delivery.

With a mysterious time-locked cargo in their hold and the authoritarian Reason regime on their tail, Gary and Jenny are forced to cooperate despite the fact that she once held him hostage and he was imprisoned for the murder of her best friend. What could possibly go right?

Take care of yourself

No matter what you’re creating, caring for yourself should always come first. Don’t believe people who say that artists should suffer to make good art, or that being comfortable will somehow diminish the final product. Folks, I wrote a 2,300-word butt joke while sitting in bed, eating a cupcake, and watching Marvel’s Avengers on repeat. Live your best life and the words will be there.

The last nineteen months have been unrelenting. Terrible things unfold before our eyes every day. Our hearts pound when another fundamental right is stripped away, but there’s nothing to run from and no one to fight; no zombies to hit with shovels or alien ships to infect with viruses. Instead, our apocalypse is moving in slow motion, drawn out over torturous weeks and months. Between the daily horror show, we still have to slap on a smile and pull a shot of espresso for a customer, or give yet another PowerPoint presentation on sales figures. We’re living in a terrible juxtaposition of the horrific and the mundane and it takes a toll on creativity.

It’s okay… nay, it’s vital, to find little pockets full of wonderful things and marinate yourself in them. There’s a distinct possibility we may be in some kind of nuclear winter by this time next year, so aim to absorb as much joy as possible before we’re roasting squirrels over a campfire made from back issues of Asimov’s.

I’ve joked to friends that it’s a steak and Legos kind of year, but I’m really kidding on the square. We all need to find something that gives us a moment of respite from the onslaught. Find your own steak and Legos. Read romance novels from the library with a cup of your favorite tea. Take a quiet hike in the woods and photograph native fungi. Make a Wendigo and share it on Twitter with other sandwich aficionados. Collect fountain pens and inks. Find your thing and steep yourself in it, let it infuse you with power, then come back to your work with a reinvigorated mind. Be healthy and happy and write lots of butt jokes.

Find Your Tribe

Your tribe is your ride-or-die posse and your supportive cheerleading team. They know when to push you to work harder and when to offer comfort and a listening ear. You have to find your own tribe. No one can tell you where to find yours and no, you can’t have someone else’s.

Four years ago, I was poking around writer twitter as a total newbie, asking everyone I followed how to find my tribe. All of the best writers had a critique group or beta readers who helped them craft their stories into sellable gems. The closest I had in my little town was a man who spent the last forty years working on his novel about a dog on a road trip. Listen, there’s nothing wrong with a dog road trip, but if you’ve been working on the same book for forty years, you’re not writing a book, you have a typing hobby.

I found my tribe when I attended Clarion West–a six-week workshop for writers of science fiction and fantasy also known (to me, at least) as Sci-Fi Summer Camp. We bonded over board games and a shared love of storytelling. We laughed every day and thankfully cried only intermittently. They’re the people I turn to when I need to untangle a story or commiserate over never-ending edits.

And I’ve found other tribes since then. There’s the group that gathers on a message board to practice epic feats of rejectomancy. We can tell what an editor has eaten for breakfast by the punctuation in her personal rejections. And another group that likes to meet in person for a few hours of writing followed by a board game chaser. And a group that likes to have intricate and pedantic discussions of craft that are excruciating… until you’re the one with the plot problem.

If you’re a newbie, it can feel like you’re an outsider to all of these established tribes. But you need to find your own people. And you will.

Find your motivation

Three years ago, I taped a picture of a Tesla Model X near my writing desk, thinking that the dream of owning an electric car would motivate me to write. I’m sad to report that not one extra word was written out of the desire to sell enough books to buy an $80,000 car. (Also, Elon has turned out to be a lot less cool than he seemed at the time.)

By contrast, Space Unicorn Blues was written in an epic twenty-day writing sprint motivated solely by spite. I remember the day clearly. I was tearfully complaining about my eighteenth rejection for a bizarre short story about a woman who has a portal between her grandmother’s attic and her uterus. My husband tried to console me by gently and kindly suggesting that I try writing more “normal” stories.

I was so angry at his suggestion (basically, this is the default state of our 21-year marriage) that I opened my laptop and started writing the most bizarre story I could put to paper. There are temperate rainforest starships carved into the bellies of asteroids and faster-than-light engines powered by unicorn horns. Magic and technology collide in grating and painful ways in order to sow conflict between characters. Turns out, when properly motivated, the words will flow like water.

You don’t know what you don’t know

I populated my book with humans from, you know, actual places around the globe besides America. They are people who come from different backgrounds and who have experiences that don’t mirror my own. This meant a lot of research went into making their lives as accurate as possible. Half-unicorn Gary Cobalt is descended from aerospace engineers from Bangalore. Captain Jenny Perata is a Māori woman who uses a wheelchair. Game hostess Ricky Tang is an Chinese-Australian transgender woman.

Some of the best memories of making this book were sitting down with people who are not like me and having discussions about how to portray these characters as realistically as possible. I got it wrong… many times. For example, my friends from Bangalore asked, “Why is your main character speaking Hindi? I always speak Kannada at home.” I had been treating India as a monolith. Just like every other place on the planet, India is populated by diverse people who have distinct cultures and languages. If I hadn’t spoken to an actual Bangalorean, I would have missed that detail entirely.

It’s also critical to pay your experts. Sensitivity reading is difficult work; wading through incorrect and sometimes harmful language, then taking the time to explain how the writer has erred. Pay readers the going rate or agree on a mutually beneficial arrangement like critique trades or a barter. Just make sure you’re compensating people fairly for their time and labor.

Finish your stuff

I’m going to tell you a never-before-revealed secret about Space Unicorn Blues in the hope that I can spare you the agony that I inflicted upon myself. (I am also fervently hoping that my publisher does not read down this far.) When I submitted the manuscript for consideration, the book wasn’t finished. Oh there definitely were a hundred thousand words in the file, but only the first few chapters had gone through the four drafts needed to be ready for public view. The rest was a terrible mess of scenes that didn’t really add up to a novel. I figured that if Angry Robot was interested, it would take them weeks to request the full manuscript. Plenty of time to spruce up the ending!

Readers, they wrote back in four days. You have never in your life experienced a more conflicted career moment than having a publisher request your full manuscript… and it isn’t ready. I spent the next week scrambling to rewrite twelve thousand words a day. Please, do not do what I did. Finish your work and don’t send it out until it’s ready. LET ME BE YOUR CAUTIONARY TALE.

* * *

TJ Berry grew up between Repulse Bay, Hong Kong and the Jersey shore. She has been a political blogger, bakery owner, and spent a disastrous two weeks working in a razor blade factory. She now writes science fiction from Seattle with considerably fewer on-the-job injuries. TJ co-hosts the Warp Drives Podcast with her husband, in which they explore science fiction, fantasy, and horror via pop culture and literary lenses. It’s smart, snarky, and just a little bit saucy… just like TJ.

TJ Berry: Website / Twitter

Space Unicorn Blues: Indiebound / Amazon / B&N