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Writing update 9/21/2012
Sep. 21st, 2012 04:36 pmThis blog's been pretty barren lately, between other sites I've been posting on, and I don't want it to be just "Here's a link to something clever I said on tumblr," so I think I'll try transitioning it into a bit of writing journal, since I'll still be basically discussing tropes and gender dynamics and shit, just in the context of what I'm doing and why I'm doing it.
The story I'm writing right now has ballooned up to a hundred and sixty-four thousand words. Since I was aiming for a hundred thou, and there's no way you can just edit down sixty-four Gs, it's not like taking the phrase "oh my" out of Fifty Shades of Gray, splitting it at a certain point works for me. It actually helps a bit, since now the first "half" is about sixty thousand words--light, very light, almost pulp fiction light, so I figure I'll add another ten thousand words to flesh out some of the side characters and villains.
Of course, now I have the second half with a big action climax that I want to finish, or at least get drafted, while it's still fresh in my mind and I know what I want. So, since the second half won't even be a thing if the first doesn't get published, I'm cheating a little and just doing it in script format. Which I'd actually recommend if you're stuck on any kind of action scene, because you can be very clear on what's happening and the geography of everything, so you have an outline of it to embellish on. And you can also wait to research the setting and the details, all that.
INT. GREAT HALL – MORNING
ROTC runs across the minstrel's balcony. SIMMONS emerges from the stairwell onto the second floor and sends a snap shot whizzing past ROTC's head. He jumps off the second floor, onto the Christmas tree, riding it down across the great hall, landing on a couch safely. Before he can catch his breath, bullets rip the fluff out of the cushions. He rolls over the back and runs into the dining room.
INT. DINING ROOM – MORNING
ROTC runs right across the table as CLAY pursues him, running and gunning.
INT. BUTLER'S PANTRY – MORNING
ROTC flies in, knocking over a shitload of plates as he rolls over the table in the middle. He lands on his feet and runs into the…
INT. KITCHEN – MORNING
How long do you think that took me to write? Five minutes. And I was eating a sandwich at the same time.
The story I'm writing right now has ballooned up to a hundred and sixty-four thousand words. Since I was aiming for a hundred thou, and there's no way you can just edit down sixty-four Gs, it's not like taking the phrase "oh my" out of Fifty Shades of Gray, splitting it at a certain point works for me. It actually helps a bit, since now the first "half" is about sixty thousand words--light, very light, almost pulp fiction light, so I figure I'll add another ten thousand words to flesh out some of the side characters and villains.
Of course, now I have the second half with a big action climax that I want to finish, or at least get drafted, while it's still fresh in my mind and I know what I want. So, since the second half won't even be a thing if the first doesn't get published, I'm cheating a little and just doing it in script format. Which I'd actually recommend if you're stuck on any kind of action scene, because you can be very clear on what's happening and the geography of everything, so you have an outline of it to embellish on. And you can also wait to research the setting and the details, all that.
INT. GREAT HALL – MORNING
ROTC runs across the minstrel's balcony. SIMMONS emerges from the stairwell onto the second floor and sends a snap shot whizzing past ROTC's head. He jumps off the second floor, onto the Christmas tree, riding it down across the great hall, landing on a couch safely. Before he can catch his breath, bullets rip the fluff out of the cushions. He rolls over the back and runs into the dining room.
INT. DINING ROOM – MORNING
ROTC runs right across the table as CLAY pursues him, running and gunning.
INT. BUTLER'S PANTRY – MORNING
ROTC flies in, knocking over a shitload of plates as he rolls over the table in the middle. He lands on his feet and runs into the…
INT. KITCHEN – MORNING
How long do you think that took me to write? Five minutes. And I was eating a sandwich at the same time.
