Archive for the ‘ Brutal ’ Category

New Year’s Revolutions

Welcome, New Year. You have no idea what you’re getting into.

We’re a day into 2012. By now, over half of the New Year’s resolutions have already been broken. Don’t eat the entire bag of Cheetos. Don’t get drunk enough to swallow your own vomit. Be responsible. Lose fifty pounds. Write.

And what you fail in resolution, you fail without making revolution.

That’s why we’re Writing All Wrong.

Writing All Wrong,

What are some good New Year’s Resolutions for writers in 2012?

—Avinash Dvarakanath, Paterson, N.J.

No resolution trumps a New Year’s revolution. Go beyond “resolving” to do things. History has time and again proven that man’s resolve is insufficient to effect change. But a revolution? Ah, now we’re talking.

Revolution 1: Influence

If you’re like the rest of us, you’re human. If so, you’re susceptible to influence both good and bad. Don’t let yourself be influenced by lesser writers who entertain you on Twitter or by those who garner the acclaim of the masses of mediocrity. Take care in who you let bleed into your writing, consciously or otherwise.

Revolution 2: Substance

Stop drinking soda, drink more coffee. Beyond that, make your stories speak of stronger substance. Better to spend a month firming up the raw substance (topic matter, character, lucid plot) of storycraft and write for a day than to write for a month on a day’s worth of meager substance.

Revolution 3: Sustenance

Read stronger books. Classics, idiot. Enough with the vampire/zombie tales for now.

Revolution 4: Balance

All write and no play makes Jack an incomprehensible mess of an artist (and possibly a killer psycho ravaging the Stanley Hotel). You need life balance more than you think you do.

Revolution 5: Violence

Whatsoever thou doest, do with all thy might. Sometimes you need to get your hands dirty, bloody even, if you’re looking to make it happen in 2012. Cancel that dog-walking therapy this year. Skimp on birthday shopping if time is better used for writing. Shower coldly in the morning. Those who have moved earth with vehemence are those who grow the gardens to splendor.

Revolution 6: Relevance

You can be relevant and have your flash-in-the-pancake, or you can shoot for a slice of the eternal. Note: this means your vampire/zombie/undead fiction is going to be stale in a decade, more dead than when you wrote it. Read that last line again. A quick buck is less than a penny down the road.

Revolution 7: Obstinance

If you found, founded, or find something that works, it’s OK to keep doing that. The motive d’jour is change. Don’t change for change’s sake. If you’ve got enough to blast you beyond the stratosphere, then stick to what fuels that rocket. Be daring. Be unchanged.

Revolution 8: Abstinence

You don’t always need a word count each day to be a writer worth writing. You don’t always need support groups. You don’t always need to enter flash fiction contests. You don’t always need the tantalizing tickle of someone famous. You don’t always need blog hits or re-tweets. Abstain from such. Keep writing.

Revolution 9

A classic. (And you probably saw that one coming.)

What revolutions do you plan for 2012?

Writing All Wrong can be reached via email (WritingAllWrong@me.com), followed on Twitter (@WritingAllWrong), and revolutionized for takeoff.

2012
01/02
CATEGORY
Brutal
1 comment

The Traditional Christmas Letter

We used to be a literate nation, America. We read, we wrote. Can you name any good writers from the past 40 years? Of course not. That’s not the country we live in anymore. We’ve traded Henry James (a titan of literature) for LeBron James (a writer of subpar force). We’ve swapped communication for lolwut txting.

To be honest, it could be worse. At least we expunged cursive. That was long overdue for expulsion.

Anyway, when you have to Google the “traditional Christmas letter,” then there’s just nothing left to say.

That’s why we’re Writing All Wrong.

Hey, I had a great idea for a story. Hear me out: it’s about a girl in the city who—[DELETED]

—Maureen Moore, Orange Park, FL. 

Sorry about that, Maureen. There’s a Christmas tradition to save. Your answer: no.

Rather than share the lost tradition of the traditional Christmas letters (begun by Pliny the Older) or learn you in how to write these things, I’ll share my own work as a guideline. Enjoy.

Dear Everyone,

Hope you all are having a wonderful Christmas season! We know times have probably been harder on you than they’ve been on us,1 but the holidays are here and full of cheer.

It’s been a full year for the Writing All Wrong camp, and we’ve taken the time this holiday season to reflect on our fortune, reaching out in love to let you know what’s been going on in our neck of the woods. We sincerely wish we could come visit with you all2—maybe a trip to one of3 our villas in Monte Carlo is on your agenda!

Mr. Writing All Wrong has been keeping busy, just like the rest of you,4 I’m sure. Writing gigs seem to roll off a conveyor belt these days, and while it’s been quite the bear to rotate between our mountain and beach properties, we’ve managed well. As always, Mrs. Writing All Wrong makes the best of our open schedule, cooking, cleaning, baking, sewing and keeping the kids (and husband) in line.5

Speaking of kids, Anderson just recently wrapped up his third year at Harvard, making the most of his scholarship6 and opportunities, majoring in Finance. We’re looking forward to the work7 he’s got going on in his startup. Following in footsteps of success, we hope.8 Hah! As for Kimberly, she’s done well to handle the pressure and delicate work-life balance of being a CEO at 25.9 It was just yesterday she sold lemonade on the freeway, and now she’s calling the shots for Lemonadia®. Time flies so fast!

After such a whirlwind of a year, we again send our love, joy, and riches 10 to our loved ones this holiday season. Please enjoy the accompanying gift basket of caviar, Andalusian hams, and some of our finest pepper crackers and foie gras.11 We wish you a very merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Sincerely,

Writing All Wrong.

Notes:

  1. Have to acknowledge one’s station here.
  2. No, not really.
  3. We have five villas.
  4. Even though some of you were laid off for the holidays…
  5. She doesn’t do any of that. We’re trying to evoke the “good ol’ days,” whenever those were.
  6. Full-ride with benefits, of course.
  7. Like every other college junior, he has his own business, one that his snob rich parents helped him start.
  8. Laughing it off makes it seem less ridiculously fortunate than it really is
  9. Humblebrag. Who cares about pressure when you rake in enough buck to copyright it?
  10. Didn’t send riches, sorry.
  11. Didn’t send a basket. Forgot to edit that out, sorry.

Writing All Wrong can be reached via email (WritingAllWrong@me.com), followed on Twitter (@WritingAllWrong), and postmarked for traditional Christmas delivery.

2011
12/19
CATEGORY
Brutal
1 comment

NaNoWriMo – Know Failure? No Failure (next year).

November 28th. NaNoWriMo is just about done.

And if you’re done before the novel’s done?

That’s why we’re Writing All Wrong.

I might as well stick a fork in it. I’m done! No, I didn’t finish the novel, so I’m writing to find out how I can improve for next year. (and I read all of your advice so far, it DID help). Thanks! But how do I turn my mistakes in not finishing into success of finishing for next year?

—Barry Whitehall, Surrey, N.D. 

(Note: NaNoWriMo is short for Narcissistic Nonsense Writing Motivation or something like that. Simple premise: write a “novel” of fifty-thousand words within the month of November. The prize? Fifty-thousand dollars. In the competition’s 196-year history, only three have claimed the prize.)

Gotta keep this one tight. Christmas is coming.

While I’d normally suggest a look at what a failing performance you turned in over November, well, I don’t see why I wouldn’t suggest that right about now. But here’s how you give yourself that “exit interview,” that honest assessment, free of poisonous positive thinking.

The memories of the temporal element fade fast. Rarely do we remember how long things seem to take—only in the present does the concept of time seem clear. Every day passing is clouding your perception of how much time you had in the month. Look back at the calendar, your bank account, your medical bills: find evidence of where the wheels came off. Mismanaging time is a fair assessment, but it’s hard to spot, even with hindsight.

What you wrote shouldn’t fade as fast. Read back through it next year. Don’t look back anytime soon. You now have the luxury of reading this fairly. If you know how to read, you can see where you were cruising along, (the vigorous romantic tension between your stilted fantasy characters, describing backstories, more romantic cliché) and where you hit the potholes and mudpits (storytelling, dialogue, anything of substance).

In short, first mull over the memory of managing time. Find those traps that had nothing to do with the writing. And next year, if you can bear the stench of your novelcreature, find what’s right, and find what’s rotten. Makes less rotten, make more right.

And see you at the finish line of NaNoWriMo next year.

We’ll resume the steady stream of evergreen writing tips, tricks, and cheats next week.

Writing All Wrong can be reached via email (WritingAllWrong@me.com), followed on Twitter (@WritingAllWrong), and probed for more NaNoWriMo nectar during the month.

2011
11/28
CATEGORY
Brutal
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