The Author's Process

[authorsprocess]

2- Forgetting doesn’t help

Bill choked and took a sip of water.

“I never thought I’d live long enough to scare Aurora Thompson’s great-grandson.

Bill swallowed and stuck out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, sir. Please sit and enjoy some food with me before you go.”

“You didn’t scare me, I was surprised. I had assumed that you were either long gone or in jail, or –” Bill stopped himself from finishing.

“Or I was dead?”

Bill hedged his response “Well yes. No offense intended.”

“None taken,” Gaff said through the hint of a smile.

“So what do you say about it? You up for a little adventure?” Gaff asked his smile as wide as a shark’s now.

“Adventuring isn’t in my blood sir,” Bill said quietly while looking anywhere but Gaff’s pale blue eyes.

“Sure it is, how do you think I know Aurora? She was one of the best datacrackers of her age.”

“She was?”

“She absolutely was, and her father before that saved the whole neighborhood you call home. Died doing it, but still, he saved everyone.”

“I never knew that.”

“I’m sure there are lots you don’t know, but we can get you caught up if you want.”

“I think I’d like that.”

“Good, I’ll see you later tonight.”

“--O - Okay.” Bill said

Gaff only smiled and then took a fat-tipped marker out of his pocket. He marked a symbol that almost looked like a “7” above the doorway but it had a horizontal line running through it.

“What’s that?” Bill asked

“Oh just something so I know which house is yours.” Gaff answered and walked away without saying goodbye.

“What a strange man.” Bill said out loud. He even thought to himself that it wouldn’t be the worst thing if Gaff never came back to visit.

The sun went down and the street lights started to cast their amber light on the streets and walls of The Brambles. Finally, cool enough to go inside. Bill was more than a little intoxicated. So like a reasonable citizen of the Brambles  Bill packed everything up and headed inside. He turned on his viewscreen. It chimed to life, and he mentally digested what happened. The viewscreen talked about the latest up-and-coming lies. Whether it be the government or the corps each story pushed its own agenda.     If they weren't trying to push an agenda they were trying to sell you something you didn't need. All for a price you couldn't afford. What a world. Bill thought to himself and sat down on his sofa. The darkness of sleep fell over him. He was comfortable there. Safe. He always fell asleep on the couch faster than he did in bed.     It wasn’t more comfortable, but something about it lulled him to sleep. In what felt like moments, early morning sunlight beamed in through the metal shutters. Busted and broken metal security shutters that no longer closed completely. Instead they let razorblades of light enter into what passed for a livingroom. He stretched and this day passed like any other. Then the next day passed too.     So many days passed that Bill started to forget about the strange encounter with Gaff. He forgot about the threat of adventure and all the rest. Then one night when he was cooking dinner he heard a knock on the door. He thought to himself “who can be knocking on my door at this hour?” He opened the door and two people stood in front of him a tall slim woman in all white looked Bill up and down. Her companion was a tall man in brown and black. He was even taller than she was, his head shave and beard long. He said nothing. Luckily she spoke up finally. She sucked her teeth and asked“So we’re the first ones here then?” “First of who?” Bill was barely able to get out before they both walked in and hung their jackets on the hooks next to the door.

“I could go for a beer if you have it.” The man said, his voice deep and humbling.

“I’m sorry but who are you?” Bill asked.

“I’m Keeley, and that’s Dwayne.” Gaff told us to meet him here.

“Gaff? I don’t know anything about–” Bill was interrupted by another knock at the door.

Bill swung the door open and was presented with a short man with a cybernetic arm and leg. One side of his face marred. Bill thought some sort of horrible accident had befallen him. His eyes were bright and were the golden color that some cats have. The pupils also looked cat like as well. He seemed too happy to of had an accident. Bill banished the thought, because anyone could be happy even after bad things happen. Everyone knows that.

“Good evening Bill!” he said much louder than Bill expected and then made his way through the door bumping into Bill on the way.

“You have any olive oil? The joints are acting up” He announced to the hallway. “I do, just one moment.” Bill ran off to get the olive oil, all the while trying to process just what was happening. “How many people are coming?” he thought to himself. Just as he found the olive oil he heard a pounding at the door and rushed to answer it. Bill opened the door to four people standing there, all of them must have been brothers and one sister. Or related in some other fashion. “Pleased to meet you!” The smallest one announced “I’m Dorian.” He did a sort of bow, then inclined his head towards the only woman in the group. “This is Sloan.” She nodded her head. “This hulking beast here is Phil.” Phil smiled a wolfish smile.” “This is Gabe or Gabriel, if you’re angry at him.” Dorian flared. “No one gets angry at me.” Gabe said and reached out his massive hand and shook Bills hand. Gabe was a massive man, round and with a smile that you could feel the joy in him. Bill stood in the doorway stunned at what he was seeing. More people coming to his house. He had never had so many people inside his home before. Gabe asked as he squeezed inside “What time is dinner going to be ready? I’m starved!” “Dinner?” “Gaff told us we’d be having dinner here.” Sloan said, her voice dry. “Of course, I wasn’t expecting so many people.” Bill apologized. “Well then you need to get going.” Phil said while the sounds of the newcomers greeting the others erupted from the other room. Bill turned to leave and as his back was to the door a loud banging came again. Bill sputtered and spun flinging the door open. “Listen we’re all full here!--” and then the words caught in his throat. It was Gaff, and his eyes were glowing white in the darkness of the night. Gaff wasn’t dressed as he was the other day. Tonight he was wearing a white and silver suit that only made him appear more ghostly and ethereal. “You have plenty of room still Bill Wilson.” Gaff said with a smile, “but before long it will be full.” “What is all this?” Bill asked while inviting Gaff inside. “These gentlemen need your help.” Gaff said while removing his jacket and vest.

[authorsprocess]

BTS-3: Pantsing with purpose

You might be asking yourself what does pulling someone’s pants down have to do with writing. To that, I say “Not that sort of pantsing!” Pantsing in the world of writing is when you write from the seat of your pants. You don’t plan or outline and just let it take shape as you go. A really simple concept. Not the easiest to execute. Most people get to a certain point while pantsing where they just lose the story. It fades into the depths of their mind and then they start focusing on the new shiny thing that is less difficult to write. It’s an easy mistake that anyone can make; even seasoned writers. Then there are the days where you write for hours only to delete everything you wrote and then start writing the same thing you just deleted only slightly differently. I personally tend to do things slightly differently. I pants while figuring out the plot. At least that’s my intention. It's a hybrid of just letting the characters run wild within the setting I am giving them while figuring out what the larger plot is. It’s not perfect, but it works for me. It’s worked for me over and over again for long-form stories and when I don’t do it for longer pieces my writing suffers. So I haven’t really started figuring out the plot as of yet at least not really the parts of the plot I am sure of yet or want to reveal. That also is writing, stumbling around in the dark trying to make sense of what’s in there with you.

So far I’ve figured out some themes: Cyberpunk Fantasy Epic Fiction A large cast of characters

So that’s all I have so far.

Luckily I can pull from my past stories that didn’t go anywhere and things I’ve created in the past that went unpublished. Different elements, factions, and all that. The things I fell in love with in those stories that I never completed. This is why you don’t throw away your work, not even when it's trash. Because one day you might be able to pull from your past and it will give you a leg up on your writing. But I digress; the point I was attempting to make is that if you are going to pants you should pants with a plan. Pantsing with a plan doesn’t mean you do all the outlining and figure out every single detail it means that you figure things out in steps while you are writing. A lot easier than the two other options in my personal opinion. Also significantly less daunting to a new writer.

[authorsprocess]

BTS -2: Accountability

     Accountability is important in all things but when you write for yourself it’s a harder feat to hold yourself accountable. You wake up in the morning and there are a million things that seem more urgent than you writing. Many of them will be, but that doesn’t mean that you should just ignore what your goals are. Crazy I know right? Going for your goals and holding yourself accountable? In this economy? But I digress. I think in some ways putting my whole writing process on Medium is a good way to be transparent and also hold myself accountable.      There’s a bit of a learning curve, and I’m not really the biggest fan of medium’s word processors… let’s call them quirks. I write and I cannot format what I wrote in the way I want, but these are problems that all writers have to contend with in the 21st century. You could write up an amazing-looking manuscript, and then when you transport it to show it to an editor or to throw it online it boom! You look like a child who tried to write a book with Play-Doh. Everything is all over the place, there are random spaces and indents. No paragraph start where there was in the original and you feel like your brain is about to explode.     It’s rough. Well, it’s not just you. It’s all of us. It’s by design. Every company wants to have a different UI (user interface) and be the sole program that you use to write, so they make it just a little infuriating for you to switch to something else. Their way of further cementing in your mind is that they are the superior way to write. I have news for you, it doesn’t matter what program you use. What matters is you. That you are writing and continuing the story. Whatever you are most comfortable with is what you should use. That doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t test out other methods. I often try different programs and even take breaks from the digital all-together and write in notebooks and journals. Do what’s best for you.      Above all else, hold yourself accountable to the work and getting it finished, because an unfinished story doesn’t do anyone any good.

[authorsprocess]

BTS  1 — No edits with first postings

BTS (Behind the Scenes) 1 — No edits with first postings

I struggled with what version I would post the parts of the story up in. Edited or unedited. I decided on unedited. It’s a choice to be sure, it may be flawed (well it will be flawed) but it is the natural version of what I wrote. There in all its glory and stank.

I did some minor proofreading and spelling checks but outside of that, it’s all a seat of the pants writing in part 1. Scheduled to be published on Thursday. Meanwhile, I have the whole week to stress out about how it is going to work out, and what to publish in the meantime. So that’s why I’m here now. I’m writing about how the process goes. Step 1. Get excited by some new idea. Step 2. Write by the seat of your pants. Step 3. Stress. Obviously, this isn’t every single time but it's where I am now putting my whole process out there for the world to see.

I also need to admit that this whole process is different than my normal process by default because I’m putting it out there as serial fiction. This means I need to figure out good ways to break up the story for postings. I’m also struggling with the word count. I find myself asking how long should it be. Should I make it longer or shorter? I hope that the answers to these questions come naturally to me over time. But the first posting is only 1k, a super short read.

[authorsprocess]

Start of a New Story

So I’ve decided that I was going to go back to my roots and come out with a weekly story that builds upon itself in order to keep myself accountable. Also hopefully, it will distract me from what I’m working on normally. It might be interspersed with my own commentary on the previous week's work, it might also have notes on things I might change going forward.

This will be my writer's board and workshop. It’s a first-draft work-in-progress story. It will be imperfect, it will be flawed and yet it should be beautiful in its own right.

Thank you for coming to read my work. I hope you enjoy it.

-Steven Mattor