Tag Archives: writing

A Round of Words Goals, Vandaleyes edition

Round one of “A Round of Words in 80 Days” started on Monday. I meant to do my goals post on Sunday, but we were away. Better late than never, right?

No WIPpet Wednesday post from me today. All I’ve been doing is reading over a manuscript, trying to figure out edits, so there’s no new writing to share. I haven’t been getting much done recently. The kids were home for two weeks, and we’re now on their third day of no school when they should have been back. It’s not the weather; skies are clear here, and the roads are fine. Temperatures aren’t even that bad right now. But our part of the province (as in, the entire island portion) is having something of a power crisis, and all schools are closed to conserve.

Long story.

So here we are, still at home, still together 24/7. We’re getting a little bored. There are books to read, of course. The kids and I are almost through Coraline by Neil Gaiman, and they’re enjoying it. There are new toys, but even they lose their appeal after a while, and Ike has perfected his “annoy everyone while also playing with new toys” technique. In light of this, today seemed like a good day to break out my new self-adhesive googly eyes and vandaleyes some stuff around the house.

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Oh, eos, you so cute!

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I’d look like that, too.

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I am Aslan, hear me google.

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…you get the idea. It kept us busy for a while, anyway.

So here’s hoping that school schedules and power supplies get back to normal soon, and I get a chance to get back to work!

ROW80 Goals, Round 1 – 2014

Round one runs from January 6 to… some time in March, I guess.

Writing goals:

  • Edit Bound, get it ready to go for editing by February 10 (I know, that sounds like cleaning the house before the cleaners come. Just trying to save myself some money and get as much educational value out of this as I can). Spend 2.5 hours per day on this while it’s the main focus.
  • Work on short stories, unrelated projects while that’s away. 1.5 hours’ work per day, or 1000 new words.
  • Outline book 3 of this trilogy

Reading Goals:

  • Read ARC I received recently and review for February 10
  • Read over another friend’s book for him
  • read one novel and one non-fiction book per month (more if possible, this is the minimum goal)

Personal Goals:

  • Put phone away when kids are around (no Twitter, Facebook, etc. when I should be spending in-person time with family), block Twitter and Facebook during writing time.
  • Once my back can handle it, exercise four times per week (walk dog when it’s nice out, Pilates when it’s not.)
  • Make short, prioritized to do list every evening before bed
  • Make weekly meal plan and shop accordingly to try to eat better (and save money by not eating out/wasting food)
  • Prepare everything we need for taxes so I can get that in as soon as AJ gets his forms from work.
  • Talk to my dad (who’s a finances-and-tax type guy) about what I need to keep track of for business purposes
  • Get out to visit my parents once they’re settled in Corner Brook
  • Get a chiropractor
  • Plan our garden (you really can’t plant here before June, but we can plan!)

I guess that’s enough for one round.

Who else is doing ROW80 this round? Either way, what are your plans for the near future? And what do you think I should stick googly eyes on next?


Big Plans, Big Plans…

someecards.com - It may be the antidepressants talking, but I'm feeling somewhat optimistic about 2014.

WARNING: I am writing this on New Year’s Eve, while on drugs. Pain pills and muscle relaxants for my back, to be precise. This is not a problem for most people. I, on the other hand, feel like I’m viewing the world through a fluffy tunnel made of pink cotton batting. It’s happy in here, but somewhat confusing.

Also, I have a hot water bottle shoved in my pants that’s giving me a lovely Quasimodo look, and I’m shuffling around like my great-grandmother did when she was nearing 100. THIS IS SO HOT.

Still, I said I was going to do a New Year’s goal setting post, so here we go. If it doesn’t all make sense, well, there’s always tomorrow to revise.

Professional Goals

My word of the year for 2014 is going to be… (drumroll please): Decisiveness.

Is that a word? That looks wrong.

Decisive. Hmm. Spell-check is cool with it. Maybe we should go with “commitment?”

In the past (like, right now), I’ve been afraid to commit to anything serious. I don’t like taking risks. I like to know I can back out of things without too much fuss or embarrassment if I change my mind. Really, it’s a wonder I ever got married. If I take on a challenge or a big project, I do so fairly quietly. I try to keep my investment in most things to a minimum, and downplay their importance so as to avoid the pain of losing when I give up or fail.

I like to have an easy out, is what I’m saying.

This is going to be the year I get over that. I’m going to dive into the deep end. In March (and I have reasons for this timing), I will have reached the point of no return. I will change my Facebook profile name to match my professional name. If people ask why, I’ll tell them. And I’ll add a job to my profile there, and set up an author page (much good it’ll do me; Facebook seems to be making things difficult for pages, and I hope most people will add me as a friend as well as following that).

I will announce a book release date.

I will work my ass off and get a book out.

And another one.

Two books in 2014 is the goal. For some people, that’s nothing. Some people can release six or 12 novels in a year. I can’t, for various reasons. But two, both of which I’m already working on, seems reasonable.

I will manage my time, set deadlines, and get this done. I know what I want, and for once in my life I’m going to take some risks to get it.

(It’s kind of crazy how things change. Last night I was reading a journal entry from a year ago, when I was stressing about writing a perfect query letter and hoping to get an agent. Now my goals have completely changed, and I’ve decided that path’s not for me. Never would have called that. I guess in light of that, my other word for the year should be flexibility. It’s worked well so far, and in the changing and increasingly challenging landscape of independent/author publishing, it’s absolutely necessary.)

Personal Goals

I think my big personal goal will be to get organized. I probably said that last year, too. But I feel like maybe, if I can focus on work during half-days when the kids are both at school, I should be able to keep household stuff under control. My work time used to be whenever I could grab it, which meant I was always scattered, and always thinking I should be doing something else. Now there might be a chance of focusing, if I can break the habit of checking e-mail and Twitter, etc. every ten minutes.

Okay, every four minutes. Jeez, you guys see right through me, don’t you?

I’ll have three hours a day to myself when kindergarten is in morning sessions (January, March, May), one and a half hours when they’re on afternoons. It will take some planning and a lot of co-operation from the kids, but I should be able to get 8-10 work hours in per week, and then do groceries, exercise, meal planning, and house cleaning during the other daytime hours, leaving evenings to relax and do some research and reading of blogs and books. Work time will be writing, formatting, and other book-ish stuff, plus whatever promotional…

Ugh, I’m screwed, right?

Well, I wasn’t planning on making it big on my first book, anyway. In September both kids will be in school all day (but home for lunch), so I’ll be able to do more promotional stuff when the second book comes out. The writing part is more important.

Wait, this section was personal goals, wasn’t it? *scoops brain off of floor, puts back in head*

Read a novel a week, plus a business/craft book every two weeks. Plan all suppers, grocery shop once a week. Make time to help with the kids’ homework every day, and read them a story before bed. Learn to be more patient, somehow. Get into a routine. Keep the house clean. If I can’t get over my telephone-related anxiety, at least enlist help from AJ and get those calls made somehow. Get a chiropractor. Floss teeth every day. Spend less time on things that aren’t important.

Good enough?

My head is spinning. I’m not sure if that’s the drugs or the future. I’m guessing the drugs. I’m not drinking, but I may spend New Year’s Eve passed out on the floor after all. WOOHOO, PARTY!


Oh, the Wednesdayness

SO much Wednesday.

I didn’t link my WIPpet Wednesday offering back to the linkie-poo last week, because I knew I wouldn’t have time to visit everyone, and it seemed unfair to link and run. I’m going to make time this week, though, even if it kills me.

Okay, maybe not if it kills me. But even if it kills my productivity. 😉

ROW80

Hey, speaking of productivity… I worked out a tentative schedule for next year, involving the release of two books, participating in two writing events (NaNoWriMo and JuNoWriMo), and drafting a third novel. I even colour-coded this plan so I could see what I’d be working on each month, and I scheduled in “read over edits, cry, regroup” at the end of February, just to be safe. I AM SO ORGANIZED.

It’s doable. It’s insane, but it’s possible. It’s also subject to change. If my TMJ is caused by stress, the next year won’t help, but what the heck. I said I was going to do this. I’m going to do it.

*hyperventilates*

I got nothing done this past weekend. I think December is going to be a month of rest, once I finish this draft of Torn (one scene to go!). There’s just too much else going on. And that’s okay. January is going to be nuts, what with revising and pre-editorial edits for Bound HOLY CRAP WHAT AM I DOING.

*breathes into paper bag*

I may have gone into the wrong business.

WIPpet Wednesday

Moving on…

Remember the character I (sort of) introduced a few weeks back? This week’s snippet is from her again. Nox has just gone for a sunset walk in the woods with a man she hardly knows, against her better judgement. She got a little weirded out when he said he wanted to go swimming…

…and got quite a surprise when he resurfaced and revealed that he’s not human. In his defense, this is not an easy thing to tell a woman you’re growing fond of.

I know it needs work yet, but I kind of love this moment. Nox is usually such a hard-ass.

11 paragraphs for the 11th, and two bonus paragraphs because… um… I like them?

Suddenly I felt shy. “Can I see it?”

Kel grinned, then pulled himself out of the water and onto the rock. He rested his chin on his crossed arms and flicked his tail. “Go ahead.”

He was unlike anything I had ever imagined when people spoke of the mer-folk. There was no clear place where man ended and mer began. My gaze moved over the greyish skin that stretched over sleek shoulder muscles, then along the valley of his spine to that incredible tail. It was longer than his legs had been, ending in a thick, notched fluke that he moved slowly, rippling the surface of the water where it touched.

“Can I-”

“Mm-hmm,” he said, and closed his eyes. I reached out, hesitant, and placed my hand flat against his hip. His skin was as smooth as it looked, as flawless as his face and the rest of his body, except for a scar that curved diagonally around the side half-way down his tail. I traced the scar with my finger, and found it just barely raised over the rest of the skin.

“That was a net,” he said. “I was young and didn’t know any better. I got tangled, and the rope dug in. It only scarred because I was stuck for so long. We’re quite hardy, usually.”

“That must have been frightening,” I whispered, not wanting to disturb the near perfect silence of the forest. I shifted myself toward the end of Kel’s tail and he lifted it out of the water. I ran my hand over the fluke, then back up the centre of the tail toward his back. I could feel the bones there, just under the skin. He shivered, and I pulled my hand away.

“No, don’t stop,” he said. “It’s nice. Odd to have a human touching me when I’m like this, but good.”

I put my hand back where it had been and continued up. Strange how his body became more human as it got closer to the middle. I’d seen pictures of something called a dolfin, and its tail looked like his, but it didn’t have the narrowing at the waist, above what would have been his-

I jerked my hand away. I just touched his butt.

Kel rolled onto his side, propped himself up on one arm and gave me a lazy grin. “Time to get back? You must be getting cold.”

“Um, yes.” I was actually feeling fairly warm, but he didn’t need to know that. “I’ll wait for you to get dressed.”

I sneaked one more look before I left. His front was more impressive than the back. Stomach muscles strong from swimming drew my gaze toward his tail, which was flat and a lighter grey on the underside.

I wonder how–

I cut that thought off before it could start, and walked back into the woods far enough to give him privacy to change and dress. I’d have to be careful with this one.

I know how. I don’t think that’s appropriate to discuss here and now, though. Jeez, think of the children, guys.

So, WIPpet Wednesday. Swing by to see our host, K.L. Schwengel here, and find the other WIPpeteers here, adding their lovely goodies as the day progresses. Check early, and check often. If you want to join in… well, most of you know the rules. I really need a post to link to every week. Post a snippet of your work in progress on your own blog, make sure it relates to today’s date (somehow… heh), and link back. Make sure you like and/or comment on other WIPpeteers’ posts, too! What goes around comes around and all of that. 🙂

In other news: Snow. Yay.

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Sunday ROW80 Update: Welcome Back, Amy Edition

Well, NaNoWriMo is over. Those of us are heaving sighs of relief, partying, or drowning our sorrows. I’m still writing, though. I have about 12,000 words to go before I put this story to bed, and it’s getting EXCITING. I can’t even believe what just happened, or what’s coming in the revised ending for this one.

I get all bouncy thinking of the horrific death that’s coming for a very bad person. Yaaaaaaay! Never fear, those with sensitive stomachs. This will not be WIPpet Wednesday material.

Things have picked up since Wednesday’s dismal numbers. AJ’s going away, leaving tomorrow and coming back Tuesday, so that’ll give me one night to work this week, and I’ll have afternoons for this until Christmas vacation starts. Think I can finish this draft? I’m going with yes.

Not a ROW80 goal, but a new item is on my to do list now that Amy Snow is visiting again. She’s wearing her pretty dress that I ordered off of Etsy last year, and she’s ready for some fun. She brought season 4 of the Cosby show for the boys as a “happy December” gift. They were pretty excited.

Don’t worry, I won’t spam you all with her adventures. Maybe I’ll put up pics on Sundays and Thursdays or something. I’m sure some of your facebook feeds are already going to be crowded with elf stuff. Don’t want to drive you around the bend with mine. 😉

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Wow, does that green wrapping paper look hideously yellow on everyone else’s monitor? Sick.


ROW80 Update: Quickie Edition

My right arm is currently trapped under a pile of dog face, so I’m going to have to keep this brief.

Specifically, this face.

Specifically, this face.

I passed the 40,000 word mark for NaNoWriMo this morning, and there was much celebration… mostly because this means I’m only 10,000 words away from breaking open a box of count Chocula, which I haven’t had since I was a kid.

YESSSSSSS!

Holy carp, this dog’s head is heavy.


Wednesday Stuff: So Many Question Marks

ROW80:

I think my twitter feed says a lot about how writing went for me this week.

*Wrote. Ugh.

But…

I count this as proof that BICFOK (butt in chair, fingers on keys) works, even when distractions abound and motivation seems to be at a standstill. And the words, they are not all crap. True, I did have to write circles in that one scene with an uncooperative character, and ended up skipping it for now, but this is how the story gets written.

It also gets written with a lot of typos. I blame the excessive amounts of caffeine I’m consuming.

So there you go. Closing in on 30,ooo words now out of a 50,000 word month and a 100,000 word draft goal.

And speaking of those words that I hope are not all crap…

WIPpet Wednesday

For the thirteenth of NOVEMBER (jeez, I wrote October again!) I offer the last 13 paragraphs I wrote, as of right now (this being Tuesday at 11:10 am, because I’m on the ball this week). Aren’s hubris (that should be his middle name, I swear) has got him into trouble, and he’s getting schooled by a secretive warrior-monk-wise man type. We’ve all been there, right?

He released me, and I dropped to the floor, gasping.

“Who are you?” I whispered.

“I think a better question might be who you think you are, Aren. Powerful? Undoubtedly. Intelligent, though inexperienced, and blinded by pride. But what else? You’re not a prince anymore, or your brother’s tool. What will you use your magic for now? What would you be without it? Is there more to you?”

I ignored his questions. “How did you block me without magic?”

“Our potions master is quite good, isn’t he?” Phelun crouched on the floor in front of me. “You don’t understand as much about this world as you think you do. You have been given great gifts, and you squander them. You use them for selfish reasons, to harm and kill and destroy. Do you think this is what the Goddess intended when she blessed you so?”

He offered a hand, and I ignored it, instead pushing myself up from the floor by pressing my back against the door and forcing my legs to straighten.

“I don’t know. Was it her plan for my father and his father before him to plan their marriages to produce the strongest children? Was she at work in his bedroom when I was conceived, or Severn? And where was she when my father and my oldest brother turned me into what I am? It seems she was absent when my mother died, when my caretakers were killed, when I lost the only friends I’d ever had. Did she expect me to rise from the cesspool of hate and mistrust I was born into, to turn my back on the advantages of belonging to the wealthiest and most influential family in the world? To betray them for a deity who’s never given a shit about me?”

“You did betray your family, in the end.”

“Not for her. You said yourself that the magic I use is dark, and not her will. And yet you also say it’s a gift from her. Which is it?”

He stayed where he was, crouched at my feet. “I don’t know,” he said. “But I don’t believe she would have sent you to us if you were beyond redemption, or if I couldn’t help you.”

“So you believe you’ve done good here?”

“Perhaps. The results of our actions are often not immediately apparent. I trust in the Goddess, in my experiences and what my brothers have learned over the centuries.”

“Do you? I trust in myself.”

Oh, my beloved character. You are going to get cut down like a friggin’ Christmas tree.

So there you go, my contrubution in all of its NaNo draft glory. FEEL THE GLORY, HUMANS!

Sorry. Too much coffee again this morning. *tweeks*

If you’d like more WIPpet Wednesday fun, click on over here to see what the other WIPpeteers are up to this week, and as always, feel free to join in! Just post an excerpt on your own blog from a work in progress that somehow relates to today’s date (chapter, number of lines, whatever). We’re a good bunch, I promise. We probably won’t bite… Except for maybe our host, K.L. Schwengel. *flips through notes* Wait. No, she’s bright, not “she’ll bite.” Sorry.

Curious about ROW80, the flexible writing challenge that’s not as insane as NaNoWriMo*? Here’s the link to the site and the blog, from which you can find links to see what everyone else is up to this week. It’s never too late to join in!

*You know I love you, NaNo. gimme a kiss.

 


Random Dialogue, The Hulk, And a NanoThon

Someone recently said (and I’m really sorry I can’t remember who it was) that a writer’s brain is like a junk drawer.

It’s true. We’ve got character flotsam and setting jetsam floating around in there like nobody’s business, waiting for the day when they’ll find a home in a story. Ideas just rattle around until the day when two or more crash together to make something new, and we can pull out the tangled ball of string and paper-clips out and go, “Yeah, I can McGuyver something out of that.”

It’s stuff that many people would throw away, but we train ourselves to remember.

And there’s the dialogue. I know I’m not the only one who finds myself in a situation where suddenly comments from unknown characters are floating in my head, talking about what’s happening. I don’t usually know exactly where they’ll fit into a story, but they hang out, filling the junk drawer, waiting.

This one is re-surfacing for me today:

Him: “I don’t get why you girls make such a big deal about it. Cramps can’t be that bad.”

Her: “No? Imagine that the Incredible Hulk is grabbing your uterus and wringing it out like a damp dish rag, and you’ll have some idea of what it feels like.”

Him: *snort* “I don’t have a uterus.”

Her: “That’s right, you don’t. So just shut up about it.”

Something tells me she’s the one with the cramps. 😉

In any case, here I sit on the morning of the November 9 NaNoThon (or whatever they’re calling it), chugging a hot tea and Advil cocktail, about to start on my to-do list. It’s like I’m the protagonist in a story where my goal is to write, and the author just glommed on to the whole “throw obstacles at your protagonist” thing.

We’re going to visit the in-laws around supper time. AJ is working, so I have kids to keep busy all day (and I should probably feed them, too). I have laundry to do, suitcases to pack, birthday cards to fill out, cat litter to change, scenes to plan, and various aches and pains making me want to say “screw the world” and crawl back in bed.

Are we going to place bets on how much writing I get done today?

*cracks knuckles*

*finishes tea*

Let’s do this.


Super Quick Wednesday Stuffs

Quick, because I need to outline and write another scene before I start cooking supper in an hour. Totally not going to happen, still going to try!

ROW80 Update:

I broke 14,000 words for NaNoWriMo this morning, which was nice. I got NO words yesterday (school event in the morning, guilt over housework in the afternoon, boot-buying mission after school, “V for Vendetta” at night), so it felt good to get two scenes in this morning that I was excited about. I met a new character, too, who was a lovely surprise. Her name is Griselda Beaumage, and she’s a blond sorceress who wears high boots and leather pants. She has a French accent and coined the word “Sorchere” this morning (combination of “sorciere” and “chere”). I don’t know where she came from, but I’m kind of in love.

I think it’s because I put lipstick on to make my muse feel special. I’ll have to keep doing that.

So there we go. We’re going away on Saturday evening, so that’ll put a dent in my productivity (and my ability to participate in the NaNoWriMo marathon). But darn it, I’m going to take my computer and write while we’re away. This book is exploding with bright, shiny things, and I’m not going to leave it alone until this draft is finished.

For more ROW80 goodness, click here!

WIPpet Wednesday

I guess I should put something up, but there’s no time to edit. Ack. Here’s the first 6 paragraphs of the scene where Griselda introduced herself, for the 6th of October. Sorry for the first-draftiness, but I have Things of Great Importance to do…

The lights dimmed, allowing gloom to creep into the corners of the classroom.  A breeze whispered past my ear, and a pale apparition appeared at the doorway. Smoke at first, nearly invisible, but solidifying into the form of a bright green dragon. Every part of it was beautiful, from the arch of its snake-like neck to the way the sunlight from the windows reflected off of its overlapping metallic scales.

The creature came closer, neck and back arched, nostrils flaring, steam rising from its mouth. Bright red eyes locked on mine. It lifted a foreleg to paw at the air, and took a few more steps, until it stood nose to nose with me where I sat frozen on the professor’s desk at the front of the room. The scaled lips rolled back, baring vicious fangs that dripped with an unfamiliar poison.

“Can I touch her?” I asked.

“Give it a try.”

I reached out, and my hand passed through the steam unharmed. The dragon snapped at me, and its teeth closed together over my wrist without resistance. The dragon’s flesh looked as real and solid as my own, but I felt nothing.

“Incredible,” I whispered.

Join the fun, or just see what those crazy WIPpeteers are up to here! Thank you, KL Schwengel, for hosting even when life is hitting you hard. ❤

And with that, I leave you. Let me know what you’re up to this week! WriMos, are you participating in the marathon on the 9th? Anyone doing word sprints on Twitter? Everyone else care to share what’s happening these days? Want to lie on the couch, talk about your mother? HMMMM?

Thanks for stopping by!


Writer’s Guilt

(Dedicated, with love, to all of my passionate, creative friends, and my NaNoWriMo buddies who will be neglecting… well, everything this month)

I wonder…

If I weren’t a writer, would my children have fresh-baked cookies and beautifully decorated cupcakes to take to school on holidays, instead of whatever I could throw together at the last minute?

Would the laundry always be done, folded, and actually put away? Would the floors shine? Would every meal be made from scratch, would they be planned three weeks in advance and would nothing come from the freezer except for the lasagna I made and thoughtfully socked away for busy nights?

Would I have time to exercise for an hour a day, pilates and yoga and cardio, oh my?

Would I be more involved at the kids’ school?

Perhaps.

It’s quite distracting having these characters and random bits of dialogue floating around in my head. This thing that I do, that hurts me when I do it and hurts worse when I don’t, but that brings such joy when it all goes right… well, it takes up a lot of time, doesn’t it?

Time I could use for cleaning, for brushing, for scrubbing, for running, for ironing, for cooking, for planning and organizing and being the perfect wife and mom.

I must be a selfish person to want this time for my work. I must be a waste of space. I must not care, or want to give all of myself to my family.

But here’s the thing:

If I weren’t a writer, I would be a mess inside.

I would have dreams left untended, worlds left uncreated, voices left unheard and choices unmade.

I would do my best to look happy on the outside, but the world inside of me would die. Without this perfect space for my imagination to play, it would wither, and crumble.

And all of that extra time? I’d probably use it to stretch out on the couch and watch daytime TV. I might take up drinking as a hobby to quiet those voices. You never know.

I would resent every cupcake I baked, instead of taking on classroom challenges with joy when I actually manage to remember them. I’m not the type who sees housework as a blessing, who feels fulfilled by a clean home. When I write, I can do these things without hating them, because they’re not my job.

If I weren’t a writer, I would feel like a servant.

And if things got really bad, I’d go back to what I used to be before I started writing, before I let my imagination soar, before I discovered a community of people who share my dream, before I was able to cut back on the antidepressants.

Before I started walking the dog every day, because damn it, I’m worth taking care of.

I would be less than what I am. Less happy. Less confident in my skills and what I can accomplish. Less fulfilled. Less balanced. Less friendly and cheerful and encouraging. There would be less of me, and less to give to my family and my world.

I am a better wife and a better mom for having something in my life that lifts me up and challenges me, even if it hurts and disappoints and distracts and frustrates me sometimes.

So yes, there are dirty dishes in the sink once in a while. Maybe my kids take peanut-free candy to school on Halloween instead of prettily-decorated, Pinterest-inspired bags of home-baked goodies.

When I feel like I’m being selfish for taking this time, for writing these words and imagining these worlds, I will remember:

This is who I am. This is what makes me whole, and this is how I give my family more of myself.

I’m not being selfish. I’m being the best possible version of me.

—–

(PS- I feel like I should add that there is nothing wrong with being a person, male or female, who feels fulfilled by keeping a clean home, who finds creative outlets in decorating and cooking, who takes pride in sending those cupcakes to school. I admire that. Most days, I wish I could be like you. It’s just not me, and I’m done feeling guilty for not being perfect according to standards that don’t fit me. Much love to you all, whether you agree with these words or not. <3)


Great Storytelling: Breaking Bad

HOLY CRAP DID YOU WATCH THIS SHOW?

Well, we just started, so please, no spoilers in the comments! AJ and I are working our way through Season 2 of Breaking Bad, and we’re… is it bad form to say addicted? It’s a strange sort of show in that it has me rooting for characters who are doing Very Bad Things– and even for characters whose positions put them in conflict with each other. For anyone who hasn’t had the pleasure, this is a show about a brilliant, over-qualified high-school Chemistry teacher who finds out he has lung cancer. Bad. Health care in the USA being what it is, he can’t afford treatment, and doesn’t want to leave his wife (pregnant at 40-ish with a surprise baby) and his 16-year old son (who has cerebral palsy) with his debts. So he can choose to die, or to make money.

There’s money in meth, and he knows chemistry.

It’s a fascinating story on several levels, and I’ve heard it only gets better. The characters aren’t always likeable; certainly no one is perfect, and I wouldn’t want to trade places with any one of them, two things that we often hear are important in a protagonist. The thing is, though, that they all have believable goals and motivations, and we as an audience can empathize with them, whether we agree with their actions or not.

The best thing about this show, and the one that I’d like to talk about today, is CONFLICT.

Sweet thundering methamphetamines, do the writers on this show know how to create tension and conflict. I’d like to look at one episode, which AJ and I watched last night, for a few examples. There will be episode spoilers, so fair warning there, but no series spoilers for anyone who’s just starting out, like I am (Hi, Robyn!).

The episode (Season 2) is called 4 Days Out.

We start out with tension inherent in the situation. Walt (our chemistry teacher/meth cook) has managed to pay for his first round of treatments, but has very little left over to put toward his family’s upkeep if he dies. He’s had an MRI to see how things are looking, and won’t get his results for a week– but he saw a terrifying blotch in his lungs on the scan, and is certain his time is running out. He and Jesse (his former student and the guy who does the selling) head out to the desert to cook up a storm while they can.

We, the audience, know that what they’re doing is illegal, and most of us probably think that selling meth is wrong (especially after the characters we met in a previous episode. It’s a hell of a drug, guys). Still, we feel for Walt. He loves his family, but he’s lying to them to protect them, and it’s causing problems in his marriage.* He is absolutely certain he’s dying, and feels he has no choice but to do this. Back against a wall, much?

Seriously, the show is almost an ad for universal health care. That, and the awesomeness of chemistry.

So things are tense already. The questions are never stated, but they’re there. Will Walt and Jesse be able to make their product and sell it without getting caught? Is Walt going to die soon? What was that on the MRI? And Walt has been showing signs that he’s no longer the basically decent person we met in Season 1, so that’s pulling us in, too. How far will he go for his family?

Jesse brought 10 gallons of drinking water. They’re in the desert for a few days. The cooking is a great success, until the generator runs out of gas. It’s time to go back home…

And the RV’s battery is dead.

Now, here’s where the writers show their skill. Skillz? We saw a similar situation in season 1, when the RV was broken and had trouble starting. It’s since been repaired, so the dead battery is unexpected– and worse, it’s Jesse’s fault. He left the keys in the ignition for two days. He denies that it’s his fault (“the buzzer’s broken!”), but the fact remains that these two are stuck in the middle of nowhere.

Oh, did I mention that they have cell phones, but Jesse’s has no signal, and Walt won’t use his to call anyone but his wife, because she’ll check his phone records? They have a tool, and they can’t use it, even though Jesse insists that they need to. This creates more tension than we would have seen if they simply hadn’t had a phone.

I won’t give away the whole episode, but it’s a perfect example of escalating tension, and the idea that a writer’s first thought should usually be, “how can I make this situation worse for my characters?”

They hook up the generator to the battery to try to charge it, after Walt siphons gas out of the RV (EEEEWWWWW!). It bursts into flames. Walt runs in to get the fire extinguisher, but Jesse, in a panic, grabs what’s left of their water and dumps it on the flames.

Good thing: the fire is out. Terrible thing: they now have no drinking water. In the desert. 15 miles from a road.

Did you see what happened again? Situational tension has increased, but so has the conflict between the characters. This was the point where I went, “THIS IS BRILLIANT!”

It only gets worse, of course. Walt starts coughing up blood. They call for help, someone’s on his way, that someone gets lost, the phone battery dies. They’re forced into physical exertion to try to charge the RV battery, they think they’ve succeeded, they’re wrong. Those moments of hope create a roller coaster of emotion that sharpen the low points and prevent the story from becoming a mere downward spiral.

I hated it for stressing me out, and I loved it for keeping me entranced.

I said no spoilers, so I won’t tell you how it ends. I assumed all along that they were going to get out of this mess, what with there being several more seasons of the show to go, but that did nothing to dampen the tension in what was actually a very simple storyline. I will tell you that the emotional payoff at the end is amazing, and this situation changes the two characters’ relationship in a way that should be interesting.

The lesson I’m taking away from this episode (aside from “Holy crap, I will never be this good at the whole writing thing”) is that not only is tension important if you want to keep a viewer (or reader) hooked, but interpersonal conflict often trumps situational tension. If they’d run out of drinking water before they decided to head home, we still would have had a tough situation. But the fact that their thirst was Jesse’s fault made the situation tense on a deeper level and made the audience react in a different way.

Is this exact approach what we want for every story? No, but we need to remember that tension is what hooks a reader and keeps him/her reading. That’s our goal as writers. The ups and downs that keep people guessing, the interpersonal conflicts, the screw ups and the defensiveness, the desperation… all tools we can use to make our work shine. I know I’ll be looking at it from a fresh perspective, now. Who says books are the only place we can learn about good writing?

If you’re looking for more information on tension and conflict in writing, I recommend Donald Maass’ book “The Fire in Fiction,” which is on my list to re-read during this round of ROW80.

So tell me: Did you watch/are you watching Breaking Bad? NO SPOILERS, but did you enjoy the storytelling as much as I do? If not, have you ever picked apart a particularly effective movie or TV show episode to see what made it tick, and what were your conclusions? 

*For the record, I think that Skylar’s motivations are just as valid as Walt’s, given what she knows about the situation at this point. Anna Gunn, who plays Skylar, has received death threats over things her character has done… I can’t wait to find out what that’s all about, but really guys. Chill.


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