salvage operations

[truepenny]

matociquala's been thinking about the learning curve for writers, and I guess I am, too.

Both of the worlds I'm cannibalizing for this new story are things I was working on industriously when I was a college student. (I say "worlds" instead of "stories," because there's only one actual completed story in the bunch, and it's hooked to a bunch of other things that never got off the ground.) These are things I was serious about, working on hard, things that I believed mattered. And things, incidentally, that I was very pleased with myself about.

So in digging out the bits I want (character names, an elaborate history of the haunted house which is going to be my setting, incidental details, etc.), I've been obliged to read through what I'd written, leaving me with my hair standing on end like the quills upon the fretful porpentine.

The finished novella isn't so terribly bad, partly because it went through a couple major revisions in the intervening years, and thus the worst idiocies of plot and dialogue have already been dealt with. It suffers mostly from being about the wrong thing.

But the unfinished stuff, including almost a hundred pages of narrative and notes for a completely unfinishable fantasy novel, is skin-crawlingly embarrassing. I have made the following observations:

1. I cannot write romantic comedy and should not be allowed to try.

2. It is good that I have made heroic attempts to overcome my natural tendency to write dialogue as if I were doing the play-by-play.

3. Nothing will make you look stupider faster than trying to write about things you don't understand.

4. Characters do not become more endearing when they behave like escapees from a soap opera.

5. Twenty-five is not nearly as old as I thought it was when I was nineteen.

Mostly though, it's just tedious. I'm bored by my own writing. And that's really more mortifying than even the worst excesses of naïveté revealed by the plot and characterization.

If nothing else, I'm demonstrating to myself today that I have improved as a writer in the past ten years. I can see what's wrong with stuff I thought was absolutely brilliant at the time. And while it's rather embarrassing, it's also comforting. Because at least I've moved on to a new set of mistakes.

Comments

New mistakes--

[matociquala.livejournal.com]

--and on, and on. and on. *g*

When you've got that dissertation killed and have more free time for writing, you might want to try this:

http://sff.onlinewritingworkshop.com/

I *love* it. Like any workshop, you get out what you put in--and although it has a free trial month, it is a pay workshop--but I have to say that this is one of the best ones I've been involved in. Hanging out with these guys (and most importantly, critiquing other writers who were making the same mistakes I was, but couldn't see in my work) I think has probably taken me from "somewhat consistent semipro sales" to pushing pro level in about a year.

There are some fairly high-level young writers active on the workshop (including a Hugo/Nebula/Campbell nominee and some people who've gotten honorable mentions in the big Year's Bests)--in addition to people who are just starting out writing.

Like any community, of course, it does have it's drawbacks.

But I like it a lot. (And I don't even get a kickback for bringing in fresh meat!)

There's also a mailing list, and AIM chatroom, and a bunch of other time wasters. *g*

Re: New mistakes--

[truepenny.livejournal.com]

Enh.

I've had bad luck with workshops and critique groups. As Bertie Wooster says, the burnt child fears the spilt milk.

But perhaps, when I no longer have the dissertation breathing down my neck (*sigh*), I'll check it out.

Re: New mistakes--

[matociquala.livejournal.com]

--Yeah, I've generally hated them too. In truth, this one's not as great as it is because of the online/in workshop critiquing, but because of the amazing writers I've gotten to know there and spend online time with outside of the actual workshop. So it became a meeting point from which I've made a lot of really wonderful relationships, and the relationships are really what has helped me grow.

If you're ever on AIM (dunno if you do that evil thing) drop me an IM ( matociquala8 ), and I'll haul you into the chat room if anybody's there so you can meet the gang.

[pameladean]

Smack me if I'm being presumptuous, but really, hadn't you ought to be putting that stuff in the past tense? You WERE no good at romantic comedy. Because you just never know.

Pamela

[truepenny.livejournal.com]

Well, okay, fair enough.

But it is true that one thing I've had to learn the hard way is I can let my writing be funny, but I can't make it be funny. I've written stuff that can make my husband laugh--stuff that can even make me laugh sometimes--but it's always things that are funny because of who the characters are and the situation they're in. What I'm condeming my earlier self for here is Trying To Be Funny without reference to anything except the lame-duck repartee that I was capable of at the time.

A lot of my earlier writing has painfully labored "funny" scenes. They may be laughable, but it's for all the wrong reasons.

If I ever come up with characters who belong in a romantic comedy, I'll let them have their heads. But I'm not holding my breath. *g*

[malinaldarose.livejournal.com]

My first major project was written when I was 16. I'd never heard of Mary Sues before. It was absolutely cringe-worthy -- though I've been thinking about rewriting it in the last year or so.

[vass]

I was twelve when I started mine. Ditto on the Mary Sues. All four of the main characters, and sundry others as well, qualify.

The most tragic thing is that it's actually the longest and best bit of sustained writing I've done. Mary Sues and all. I've written good short stories since, but never shot so near a novel as I did then.

[oracne.livejournal.com]

Because at least I've moved on to a new set of mistakes.

Yeah...