Research: Know what you write.

In the world of writers, there's a trite, glib statement that is often shouted at us, and just as often causes feelings of murderous rage:  Write what you know. It's really meant in the best possible way, I know, but it's possibly one of the worst pieces of advice that you could give a writer. "Write what you know."  Why is that so bad? Well, let's look at that statement for a moment. What, exactly, do you know? For most young writers, what you know consists of living with your parents and teenaged angst. And if that's all you write about, where did all the amazing novels about witches and goblins and historical romance and fantasy come from?  You don't know about any of that stuff, do you? Of course not.  Not unless you have a dragon in your back yard or you actually are a serial killer.  In which case, this blog doesn't pertain to you.

I prefer a different maxim:  Know what you write.

Let's say, for example, you're writing about hard science that is based in reality. Internet, nano probes, genetic engineering, prosthesis, bionics, etc. Every one of them are favorites of writers because they evoke the sense of wonder in the reader. They are rife with potential because no one really knows how far the technology can go, and your guess is just as good as the next person's as to what the next stage of technological evolution will be.

I, for one, welcome our robot overlords...

So does that mean that you don't need to research the tech? I mean, really, if I'm writing for the next step, or even several steps, in the future, why do I need to know about the tech now? Of course, you need to research it. How will you know where it can go if you don't know where it is? But, you say, the research is boring and I don't really care about the tech so much as I do the story! Well, here's the thing... If you don't care, why should your reader?

Says the voice of God...

Look, your readers aren't stupid. Your readers are a cagey bunch. If you don't care, they can tell, and there's nothing more off-putting for a reader than to read something where the author doesn't care. And if you don't care, they won't care, and then they'll put your book down. Say it with me:  If I don't care, the reader won't care. It's a truism. And this is where research comes in. If your story features tech of any kind, you owe it to yourself and your readers to have more than a passing knowledge of that tech. I'm not saying you can't create a whole new tech for your novel, but everything follows basic rules and laws. Everything. Everything. Little things like physics and thermodynamics still apply. And, no, I'm not saying you need to have a PhD in either subject to write about them, you should still know how to write about something that obeys said laws, or at least comment on why it doesn't.

Here's where things get weird:  You owe your readers. Seriously, you do. You owe them the best possible reading experience that you can muster. Why? They're buying your work. If you betray that trust, well, they won't be buying your work anymore, will they?

So, instead of relying on your own limited experience to write something and hoping it's in any way accurate, how about doing a little research? If you're reading this, you have access to the sum total of all human knowledge. It's called "Google." You can seriously ask anything about anything and the answers will appear. Then you can read about it and appear to know what you're doing. But it doesn't stop there. You can actually contact real, live people who know about stuff. For some of these people, the things you write about are, in fact, their jobs. Like, policemen, fire-fighters, doctors, lawyers... And people really like to talk about themselves and what they do. So call them up and ask them questions. It can't do anything but help.

But wait, there's more.

Tell 'em all about it, Billy!

Primary research is such an invaluable tool, I can't stress the importance enough. Let's say for a moment that you want to write a scene in which someone shoots a gun, but you've never fired one. How do you research that? Watch movies with lots of gun play?  No way. They're full of inaccuracies and can't possibly convey what it's really like to shoot one. No, if you want to write about it with accuracy, go to a gun range and fire off a few rounds! Use different calibers. Figure out what kind of gun your character would use, and how it would feel to him.

How about this... You want to write a scene of your POV character getting kidnapped and thrown into the trunk of a car. What do you do? First off, you call your best buddy, someone you trust, who you hope doesn't have a sick sense of humor. Then you climb into the trunk of his car and have him drive around the parking lot. You think I'm kidding, but I've done this. And now I know what it feels like to be jostled around in the trunk of a car.

Seriously, I've done this. 

There are simple practical things that you can do for almost any situation, and for the few that there aren't, there are experts who can tell you about their experiences. You owe it to your readers to put in at least some effort. And, as an added bonus, you will not just write better things, you'll grow as a person. So do your research. You, and your readers, will be glad you did.

Until next time...

SAJ

The Two Things a Writer Must Do

We hear all the time about things a writer must do to be considered, well, a writer. Primary research, grammar, punctuation, spelling, sentence structure, plot, characterization, and a partridge in a pear tree. All are great things.  And all of them are tools that should be in your tool box.  But, if I'm being honest, there are only really two things that a person must do to be a writer.  Careful, now, because I'm about to dispel a lifetime of myths and magick about my chosen craft, and in so doing I could bring the literary world down about my ears.

Pictured... A world of my making.

The first thing a person, any person, has to do to be a writer is to simply read. You thought I was going to say something really hard, right?  Nope.  Reading.  If you want to write, you have to read.

Remember these things?

And, to be honest, it doesn't really matter what.  I've heard people reflect with genre-snobbishness about how they only read their own genre.  I only read horror, they say, because how else could they maintain their fingers on the bloody pulse of what is truly frightening.  Fair enough.  Wrong, but fair thinking.  See, the more you read, the more you can identify what works and what doesn't.  The best teachers of the craft are, often, not found in the classroom, but on the shelves.  Read the masters of your craft, not just in your chosen genre, but in all genres.  For example:  I write horror.  

Yes, really. Ass.

And, to me, the Gods of Horror are a very short list:  Richard Matheson, Steven King, Clive Barker, H.P. Lovecraft, E.A. Poe, Algernon Blackwood, and Gary Braunbeck.  But if I only read those authors (and there is enough from them to fill a lifetime, I assure you), I would become a very one-dimensional writer.  In case you were wondering, I also read the works of Douglass Adams, Dashiell Hammett, J.R.R. Tolkien, Frank Herbert, William Gibson, and a few that I won't name because they might tarnish my already crumbling reputation as a scary guy.

No.

I also read procedurals, books on psychology, on magick and lore, books on other cultures and ghost stories.  I read books about cooking, motorcycle repair, biographies (anything on Harpo Marx, Charlie Chaplain, or Boris Karloff earns a place on my shelf) and autobiographies (particularly of pro wrestlers, for some reason... Don't judge me, you bastards).  And numerous other things that give me insight into how to tell a story, how to form a linear progression, how to give the reader the experience I want.  These are my teachers.  These are the masters.  I fall at their feet and soak up everything I can, and in the process, I hope to become a better writer.  

Pictured:  A Master.

So that's it.  Thing one that every writer must do is read.  Simple really, yet I often am surprised at how many wannabe writers casually quip "Oh, I don't read.  I don't want to sully my creative process with other people's stuff."  Seriously, I've heard that.  And I laugh at it.  On this point, I am inflexible.  If you want to be a writer, you need to read.  You either believe that, or you're wrong.  

Only two types of people...

Which brings me to thing number two that all people must do to become professional writers. It's a little tricky, maybe a little outside-of-the-box, so follow me on this one.  Place butt in chair and fingers to keyboard.  It's a two parter, so let's break that down.  First, butt in chair:

You know who you are.

One of the hardest things to get a writer to do is to actually sit down and write.  We'll go out of our way to do things that we thing we should be doing.  Dishes, laundry, cleaning out the garage, making warm boxes for neighborhood strays... But the truth is, if you want to be a writer, you have to treat your writing like something other than just a whimsical hobby.  It isn't.  It's a job.  And a damned hard one at that.  Think about how long it takes to churn out a serviceable manuscript.  Months!  Even if you're an obnoxiously prolific writer, it still takes time out of your schedule to tell your story, doesn't it?  And, yes, all those other things have to be done as well, but this is your job!  This is your passion!  This is your craft!  SO PUT YOUR ASS IN YOUR CHAIR. Create a schedule and post it in the main room of your living area.  On that schedule, block out a section of time that says "Between the hours of -insert your hours here-, under pain of death and flogging with a wiffleball bat, none may disturb THE AUTHOR as he/she is working!"  Then stick to it.  Let nothing distract you from your vocation.  

No, not even him.

Your chair is your throne, your office equipment, your business, and your sole property.  Don't let people stack the mail there.  Don't let anyone just sit behind your desk for a moment.  It's your vocation they're screwing with.  Take it seriously.  You have to.  Get yourself a chair upon which you can sit comfortably, and claim it as your own. 

Awww yis!

Which brings me to the other part:  Put fingers to keyboard.  

Like this.

Okay, so some of you still write longhand, so put a pen/pencil in your hand and get to work, but you get what I'm saying here.  Once your butt is firmly planted in your chair, it's work time.  Not hey-I'll-just-check-my-email time.  Not I-wonder-what's-happening-on-social-media time.  It isn't time for your to browse Reddit, or Facebook, or Youtube.  It isn't even time to just check the hockey scores for a few minutes (GO PENGUINS).  It's time to work.  It's time to, you know, WRITE.  How will you ever be considered a writer if you don't, y'know, actually write something? 

The other things mentioned at the top of this picture-laden blog entry will make you a good writer.  But before you can become a good writer, you must first become a writer.  No one is born good.  No one is born with a backlist.  Ray Bradbury said once that your imagination is just like any other muscle in your body, and you must treat it as such. If you exercise it daily, it will grow in strength.  If you don't, it will atrophy and die.  Truer words were never spoken.  There's another saying among painters (I think) that my wife is fond of quoting.  To say it in my own words (because I never get the phrasing exactly right), inspiration is for amateurs.  Professionals show up and get to work. What that means, to me, is that, if you wait for inspiration to strike (or for the muse to leave little idea-turd on your shoulder), you're unlikely to get a story finished, much less make a career out of this.  If you carve out a time for yourself and treat this like a profession, you will at least have a fighting chance. 

So that's it.  That's all you have to do.  Read.  Read everything. Read until there's nothing left to read (which will never happen).  Then write.  Pour your soul on the page.  That's what we do, after all.  When it's all said and done, the only thing we writers really have to do is open a vein and bleed all over the page.   I stole the last graphic in this post from another blog (http://www.thebeginningwriter.com/) because it perfectly illustrates the point I'm trying to make, and I've pinned it to my Pinterest board.  Yes, I have a Pinterest board.  No excuses.  You either want to be a writer, or you don't.  If you want to, but can't be bothered to read, can't be troubled to put your ass in your chair and your fingers to the keyboard daily, then you really can't want it badly, can you?  

Now get to work. 

Common Mistakes: The Ten Deadly Sins

Just because I'm a writer and have been published doesn't mean I don't make mistakes.  I do.  I make 'em all the time.  In fact, some of the worst mistakes I make in writing, I don't even see until someone smugly points them out to me.  Usually, that person is one of my current or former students, and more often than not they are pointing out a mistake for which I've beaten them about the head and shoulders.  So I'm not perfect.  In fact, if it weren't for beta readers and editors, a great many writers would never make it to print.  What I want to do, however, is point out a few of the most common mistakes with the hope that you will learn to avoid them.


See, I'm not saying "be like me" or "do as I say, not as I do."  What I'm saying is, I want you to be better than me.

Had - Had is bad.  I've typed that phrase over a thousand times.  Several professors questioned me on it.  But I stand by it. "Had," when used in anything other than the indication of former possession (he had a ball, but now he doesn't) or distant past is just plain wrong. Here's the thing... If you're talking about something that happened just moments ago, "had" doesn't work.  It's not the word you want.  "He had come into the room" vs. "He came into the room."  See the difference?  The first one was an example of something he did repeatedly over a long period of time.  The second one, he walked in just a moment ago.

Excessive Adverbs - We've all been told that adverbs are just a way of defining a verb.  He ran quickly or whispered softly or screamed loudly.  the problem with adverbs is that they're largely superfluous, and they are perhaps the most overused part of speech since the "had."  To wit:  How does someone run?  Quickly.  Do you know anyone who runs slowly?  Okay, yes, some people do, but the expectation in the written form is that, if a character runs, he's doing it quickly, thereby making the word "quickly" superfluous and redundant.  Of course there are exceptions, but they apply when something happens that is out of the norm.  For example, "He ran slowly.   In this case, slowly is not the expectation, so it's necessary.  You also run the risk of what we used to call "Tom Swifties," which is an adverb that so mimics the meaning of the verb it modifies as to render it superfluous, but comedically so. For example, she sang musically.  Well... Yeah.  Singing is, technically (in most cases) musical. If it's not, there's something wrong with your character's singing voice. "I don't know where we are," said Tom lostly.

Right or Left - Who cares?  Does it really matter whether a character's right or left hand is the one that got slapped?  Do we say that when we speak?  Do we say "I hurt my right hand?"  No, we don't.  Right or left, it doesn't matter.  What matters?  Hand.  I hurt my hand.  I got hit in the temple.  I put the keys in my hand.  He stepped on my foot.  See?  Right or left, who cares.  It's a superfluous piece of information that really does nothing more than muddy up your writing.  Unless there's a specific purpose for the mentioning of right or left, leave it out.

You - When you write, typically, you're writing in 3rd or 1st person.  And as such, the reader (or the audience) is stuck behind what we call "the fourth wall."  This is the invisible wall that is removed so we can get a glimpse into the lives of characters that sit in that three-camera set-up of sitcoms.  If you don't know what I'm talking about, go watch an episode of The Big Bang Theory.  See how we only see the apartment from one side?  Ever wonder what's on that 4th wall?  The audience, that's what.  So when you, the writer, use the word "you" (as I'm doing here frequently), it should only be done when directly addressing the reader.  In theater, this is called an "aside."  In literature, this is known as "annoying" and "distracting."

Starting - More often than not, I come across statements that say "he started to run..." or something of the like.  Perform an experiment with me.  Start to run. No really.  What you'll see is that there is actually a moment between not running and running, but "starting" to run is nothing but intention.  There's no movement there.  So if someone "started" to run, I'm left to wonder what stopped him.

Distancing and Filters - Look, I get it.  We all want the reader to know what our characters saw, felt, heard, etc.  It's called description.  But we also want the reader to become thoroughly absorbed in the story, right?  So writers tend to use filters.  "He saw," "She heard," "they knew..."  They're all sensory of one sort or another.  But here's the thing:  Every time you use one of these, you're reminding the reader that "hey... You're reading a story, and being told the story second hand."  There is a way to draw the reader in further, to deepen the POV:  Remove the filters.  Consider the difference:  "He heard birds sing" vs "birds sang."  In the first instance, we are told what he heard.  But in the second, we are there with him.  We hear it when he does.  We know what's going on.

Weak Words - I see words like "this," "these," and "those" all the time.  And guess what.  They're a cop-out.  Words like "this," "these," and "those" are lazy.  They're weak.  And worse, they make your prose read like stereo instructions. The three words listed have their proper places, but their place is not in your narration.  Ever.

Its vs It's - It's really quite simple.  "IT'S" is a contraction.  It means "it is."  "Its" is used in all other cases.  Period.  There's no debate here, no questions, no exceptions.  It's simply how it is.

Your vs You're - Again, easy.  "Your" means possession.  Something that belongs to you.  Your ball, your bat, your nervous breakdown.  "You're" is a contraction which means "you are."

There, They're, and Their - I see this one butchered all the time, and, frankly, it pisses me off.  Someone wasn't paying attention in junior high school.  So for those who still haven't grasped it, "there" is spacial.  "Here or there," "go over there," "what's that over there."  "Their" means "belonging to them."  "Their car."  "Their rugby team."  "Their funeral costs."  "They're" is a contraction which means "they are."  "They're going to murder me when they find out what I've done with their schnauzer, which a buried over there."

So there you have it.  Ten of the most common mistakes I come across in creative writing classes.  There are more.  Sooooo many more.  But these are the most common, outside of basic grammar and punctuation (which are for a whole 'nother blog).  Hope this helps someone.

June 2015 Residency

Another June is gone, and with it, another June residency at dear old Seton Hill University.  I treasure every residency at SHU.  Apart from it being one of two weeks out of the year where people treat me like I know what I'm doing, June is always special because that's when WPF alumni show up for the In Your Write Mind writer's retreat, and it's a chance for us to catch up with former students who are now our colleagues.  And it brings up a few great points.

First off, I've been lucky.  A large number of people I've mentored through the program have gone on to publish their thesis and other books.  That has little to do with me, I promise, as those people are talented and would most likely have succeeded with or without me. But they're all genuinely good people.  When I'm done being a teacher, I consider those people my dear friends, and I feel my life is richer for having them in it.

Second, residency is an amazing time for networking.  In addition to our guest speaker, Chuck Wendig, we had people who represented a great many other industries.  We had video game companies, movie producers, teachers, personal assistants, and, of course, publishers.  And half the time, no one knew to whom we were speaking.  We just knew that we were interesting people having a real conversation and that we treated each other with respect.  Only after speaking to someone (and perhaps being ignorant of their profession) did we discover that all these wonderful people were... Well... Wonderful.  I am always and forever humbled by the fantastic people associated with our department, and it makes me proud to be a part of it.

Lots of talk about the newly legal gay marriage happened at this res...

Third, there is just no substitute for being in a room full of creative types who are all throwing their weirdest ideas out on the floor.  It's a bizarre game of one-upmanship.  And no matter who is declared the victor, anyone who hears the crossfire of insanity that issues forth wins.  In one evening, we dodged the pack-hunting Scottiraptor.  In another, we found ourselves examining the merits of the wall-o-beer at Headkeepers.  We danced with superheroes and discovered that, in our hearts, we love to play the villain.  It was an amazing time.

Pictured:  Better dancing than ours...

Fourth, I am a writer.  No kidding, I hear you say.  But every six months, my batteries get recharged.  And only once in that year am I held accountable.  I meet with my former-students-now-colleagues and am asked the fateful and feared question:  "What'cha working on?"  I hear their success stories and am proud of them for all they've done, and it motivates me to get my ass in gear.  And I think that's the real magic of the program.  Yes, people learn how to be a better writer (and, believe me, I learn just as much from the students as they do from me), but more, the program inspires.  The program conjures greatness and drags creativity from people that few other activities or workshops or retreats or seminars can.

Get back to work, you...

So, to my beloved Seton Hill University, and to the Masters of Fine Arts in Writing Popular Fiction program housed therein, thank you.  Thank you for being you, and thank you for being so generous with your students, and for letting me be counted among your proud faculty.  Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do.

Every story begins with a single line...

Development

One of the most difficult things writers have to contend with is the subject of plot development.  I mean, sure, we all have a story or two to tell, but it's not the process of getting from point A to point B that's important.  We're trying to get our characters from point A to point Z, and our plot points are points B through Y.  We are trying to develop our characters and plots so they will be more interesting because, honestly, we want the reader to care about them.  Love 'em, hate 'em, feel something goddamn it.  The worst possible thing that a reader can do is not care whatsoever.  Without some kind of emotional involvement, the reader has no reason to turn the page.

Let's take a look at the great theatrical spectacle that was 1980's-era pro wrestling.  Yes, I'm going to reference pro wrestling.  You got a problem with that?

Pictured:  My "You got a problem with that" face.

The two most popular characters in pro wrestling in the 80's were Hulk Hogan and "Rowdy" Roddy Piper.  Hogan was a largely static character with over-the-top cartoonish proclamations to eat your vitamins, say your prayers, and exercise.  Piper was a kilt-wearing maniac with a fast mouth and a talent for causing trouble, and was one of the toughest sons-of-bitches on the planet.  His words, not mine.  For the record, here they are:

Guess which one was my hero...

Hogan was most often billed as unstoppable.  His routine went something like this:  Get to the ring, get beat down, "hulk up" (which involved shaking and quaking like he was trying to force a large piece of cheese out of his butt), then he'd point as his opponent and yell "YOU!"  Then came his own beat down.  Clothesline, big boot, leg drop, 1-2-3, and everyone celebrates.  It got old.  Really old, really fast.

Piper, on the other hand, was quite different.  You really weren't sure which "Roddy Piper" was coming to the ring.  The mouth?  The fighter?  The lunatic?  Piper kept the audience guessing.  Sure, his favorite finisher was the sleeper hold (which, for MMA fans, is a rear-naked choke), but he didn't always use it.  It was always a guess whether he'd finish his opponent off with that, stomp him into the matt, get himself purposefully disqualified, or any other of a thousand little things that my main man RRP thought of.  And before long a question arose.  Who was the biggest star?  It could be argued that people came to see Hogan win.  But I'm of the opinion that people were actually there to watch Piper lose. Piper did such a good job of making people hate him, he was actually stabbed by audience members.  Three times.  Think about that for a moment.  It's pro-freaking-wrestling for crying out loud!  And yet, RRP really got the people going.

Pictured:  Raleigh, North Carolina, pro wrestling crowd...

Then, an interesting thing happened.  Piper's character developed and Hogan's character didn't, and people started booing Hogan.  The great, the immortal Hulk Hogan, was getting boos from the crowd.  And who got cheered?  Rowdy Roddy Piper.  The difference?  Character development.  Plot development.  Let me explain.  Hogan's character never grew.  He was Superman without kryptonite: Boring.  But Piper took up causes.  His character developed from a crazy person to a person who let us see what was driving him crazy.  He became the original anti-hero (sorry, Stone Cold Steve Austin, but my man Piper beat you to it).  And in doing so, showed the importance of plot and character development.

As a kid, I watched so much pro wrestling that I wanted to be one of them.  But when I was growing up, it was the age of the "big men," and there was no place for a 5'6" guy in the world of pro wrestling.  So I kept watching.  One of my most beloved moments came when Roddy Piper came out before a crowd who screamed his name.  He took the microphone and said, obviously taken aback, "I'm not used to so many people cheering for me.  And I want to make it clear, I ain't running for president, and I'm still the same no-good sonovabitch I always been."  The crowd went insane with love.

So you see, Timmy...

At his core, Rowdy Roddy Piper was the same guy.  But his journey to get from point A to point Z had many twists and turns and made the audience care about him.  They cared enough to stab him.  They cared enough to scream when he came back.  They cared enough that they can't get enough of him.  And that's what you want for your characters.

Every character should be a different person at the end of the story.  Think about it.  You woke up this morning and had things happen.  At least, I hope you did.  And those events of the day made you react.  Even if it was a small thing, you've changed just a little today.  It's easier to see if you look at development over long periods of time.  Think about what you were like as a freshman in high school and try not to cringe.  Your characters need to have similar developments.  What affects your characters?  Pretty much everything. People they interact with, situations that call for decision making, death, birth, car trouble, rain... Everything.  The little changes are what make the character interesting.  The way he makes decisions, and what decisions he makes, bring the reader closer to him.

Pictured:  Stasis Chambers...

Stasis is boring.  There's no room for growth.  Your characters cannot stay in stasis if you expect for people to care about them.  Read any series of books and you'll watch the lead character grow through loss, love, gain, injury, personal epiphany, etc.  Your characters need to do the same.  If your lead character is exactly the same at the end of the novel as he was at the beginning, you're doing something wrong.

Just my $.02...

Advice for the One's

It's that time again.  Time for the newbs to descend on Seton Hill University and leap into the Masters in Writing Popular Fiction program.  As I've been teaching in the program for many years (almost since the beginning), I feel like I have the responsibility (and possibly the right) to throw a little advice around.  I speak only for myself as a mentor, not for everyone else in the program, but here are a few tidbits that I feel everyone needs to know.

• Be Nice to Everyone - You don't know who you're talking to.  Let me say that again.  You don't know who you're talking to.  The person in your crit circle might have a day-job working as an acquisitions editor, or a critic, or might already be an author with more than 30 books under his or her belt.  Hell, one of them might be married to a major Hollywood producer (she knows who I'm talking about).  The writing community is notoriously small, and we have wickedly long memories.  
• Check the Ego at the Door - When you show up, you may have a lot of notions about being a stand-out, or how good your work is, or a thousand other things.  Criticism is coming, and it won't always be gentle.  Here's the deal:  You're not as good as you think you are.  The good news is, you're also not as bad as you think you are.  You're here to learn.  Your mistakes as well as the mistakes of others will teach you loads, but you need to be open to criticism and realize the fundamental truth:  Nothing said in crit is meant to be taken personally.  Everything said in crit, and everything said by your mentor, is said for the sole purpose of making you better.  If you have trouble listening to what works, what doesn't, where your strengths and weaknesses are, and how to improve, you won't grow as a writer.  Which begs the question:  if you're in this program, but can't take criticism, what are you doing in the program?
• Grammar, Spelling, Punctuation - As you are coming into a Masters program in English, it seems kind of like a no-brainer that you should have a grasp of mechanics.  Having said that, I realize that not everyone has the extensive background in English, and a large (and growing) group actually don't come from an English background.  That's fine and dandy, but it's now up to you to play catch-up.  This is an incredibly competitive path, and you want to be able to put your best foot forward. To wit, our jobs in the program are to help you have the best possible chance of getting your thesis published.  Agents, editors, publishers, etc. all get hundreds, if not more, manuscripts in their mailboxes every day.  To get through the monumental amount of mail, they have to look for any reason whatsoever to toss your manuscript in the trash.  Comma splice?  Gone.  Run-ons and fragments used improperly?  See ya.  And what we, as mentors, need to focus on  are issues like characterization, plot structure, world-building, and other things that you need to know if you're going to be a writer.  Making your mentor line-edit your manuscripts is just rude. Take the initiative and work on your mechanics so that you and your mentor and critique partners can focus on shaping your story. 
• The Mentors Aren't Gods  - I know how a lot of us come across.  I, for one, can come across as a grade-A jackass over e-mail.  Many of us come across as egomaniacal monsters that get our jollies off of destroying the hopes and dreams of students.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  The fact is, if you take the time to get to know us, you'll realize that we're not.  We're passionate about writing.  We're passionate about our genres, and we're passionate about helping you become better writers.  Most of the time, critiques tend to focus on what's wrong with a manuscript, or on what doesn't work, and that can lead to the feeling that the mentor hates the student or can create animosity.  For the most part, the truth is that we focus on what needs improvement, and thats because we want you to succeed.  Read that last part again:  We want you to succeed.  So look at what we're trying to tell you, and realize that nothing said is a personal attack.  It's all done to point out weaknesses for you to repair. 
• Avoid the Dining Hall - Seriously.  It's awful.  Taco Bell is right by the hotels. 
• Socialize with EVERYONE - Don't segregate yourself by your class.  One's, go grab yourself a couple of fives (not literally... They're skittish), some fours, a three and a two, and talk to them.  Have a drink with them.  If you happen to see a mentor or two at the social, chat 'em up!   It really does make your life easier. 
• Be Prepared - Read the assignments, crit pieces, etc. before the crit session.  You want your classmates to be respectful of your work, so be respectful of theirs too.  
• Your Time - This is likely the only time many of you will have in which you get this kind of feedback.  This is likely the only time many of you will have for such honesty, such hard work, and so many people who only want you to succeed.  You will be able to talk to agents, editors, authors and publishers.  Do you realize how rare that is?  Take advantage of your time here.  Make the best out of it.  
• Greensburg - Is a maze.  You will get lost.  Deal with it.  Half the fun of being at residency is trying new things and trying to figure out where the hell you are.  
• Wendy Lynn - Do not piss this woman off.  She is royalty in the program, and usually is the one who knows what's really going on.  

Using Magic in Fiction

Part three of the course I taught in on use of Magic, Rituals, and Religion in popular fiction.  This one, of course, is magic.  Magic, by definition, is the ability to influence a course of events by using mysterious or supernatural forces.  Magic includes sorcery, wands, swords, or a thousand other little tricks.  But too often, we see stories in which magic is used as a catch-all.  Characters stuck in a jam?  Magic!  Need a bit of the old flimflam?  Magic!  No way to have it rain exactly when you need to have it rain?  Magic!

But that makes for boring and lazy storytelling.  While this blog post will not go as in-depth as I do during my classes, I'd like to put forth, for your consideration, my rules of using magic in popular fiction.  Really, there are only three rules that I employ (with a few sub sets), which I hope you'll find useful.

• Magic, by definition, cannot be commonplace.  If everyone in your world has some type of "magic" that they use to perform everyday tasks, then it's not magic.  It becomes more science or biology than magic.  Magic must be special to a few people or objects.  To that end, there are several types of magic.  
• Natural Magic - Magic that exists in nature.
• Talismanic Magic - Magic that is confined to a specific object.
• Ceremonial Magic - Magic that comes from a set of performed tasks with an intended result.
• Invocative Magic - Magic that is used to compel or entreat other entities.
• Sympathetic Magic - Magic in which one thing symbolizes another (think voodoo doll or Lord's Supper)
• Illusionary Magic - The art of seeing what isn't there.
• Divinatory Magic - Knowing by mystical means. 
• Magic must have consequence.  Magic is the expulsion of energy.  When you break it down to its smallest components, that's what it is.  So, since we are bound by the laws of physics, we must ask where that energy comes from.  There are two categories of magic:  Internal and External.  Internal, the energy comes from within the practitioner.  External, it comes from an outside source.  If the character is using energy from within his or her own body, well, where does that energy come from?  For my characters, I go with strict biology in that, if a person wants energy, that person has to eat.  If it comes from an outside source, which one?  A god?  What does he or she want in return (you didn't really think they'd just help out of the goodness of their hearts, did you?)?  If it comes from other sources, what's the effect of having that energy pulled out and used?  And what effect does this energy manipulation have on the conductor (your character, the wand, etc)?  Think of a wire that only can push nine volts through it.  What happens when you hook it up to a car battery?  
• Magic cannot be a catch-all.  Your characters are only as interesting as their manipulations.  If they can solve everything using magic, then what's the point of reading the story?  There's no risk, no chance the character can lose.  Which makes the story pointless.  Years ago, when Superman first came to be, sales of his comics slumped because there was no chance anyone could beat him.  But then…KRYPTONITE!  Suddenly there was risk, there was drama!  And the sales picked up.  Same holds true with your characters.  If they can solve any problem with magic, there's no reason to read about them.  

So those are they, my three rules of using magic in popular fiction.  Of course, I go into much greater detail when I teach the class, but when you break it all down, this is what it boils down to.  Three rules.  They work for me.  Find what method works for you and stick to it.  Above all, remember my golden rule of writing:  If it is right for the character and right for the story, it is good.  

Like it?  Dislike it?  Agree or disagree?  Leave me a comment.

January, 2014, SHU Residency

And what did you learn?

I had the honor, the distinctive privilege, of going to Greensburg PA, as I do every six months, to teach at Seton Hill University in their Master's of Arts in Writing Popular Fiction program.  Translated, that means I got to go hang out with a group of writers who are learning their craft.  Horror, Sci-Fi, Romance, Fantasy…You name it, we work it.  And why do we focus on such genres?  Because they are the ones that speak to us.  And we can.

As with any residency, we had to say good-bye to our graduating seniors.  This group was special in a lot of ways, magical, if you will.  We had such an amazing group of talent in this group that the ones will have a hard time living up to their promise.

Hear that, ones?  I'm glaring at you.

Of the group of graduating seniors, I had the honor of working with three of them directly.  While I worked with all of them in some form or another, the three I mention had me as their mentor.  Stephanie Wytovich, "Pope" Joe Borelli, and Gina Greenway leave some very large shoes to fill.  Know that you will be the stick by which I measure my future students.

And I must also state that, while I'm adjunct faculty and am there to teach, I also learn quite a bit when I am there.  It's part of the reason I love the program, that sense of collaboration.  So what did I learn this time around?

• What it feels like to be employed by a major circus.
• That peanut butter on a hamburger is not nearly as gross as it sounds.
• That if an ex buys your childhood home, it gives off a serial-killer-rapey vibe.
• That religion, ritual, and magic are tools to be used, and not ridiculed. 
• That mentor meetings don't take very long, once you and your mentee have a good working relationship.
• That there is a Harley Davidson dealer in the Pittsburgh airport.  
• That you never have to throw a punch to stop a fight.
• That some of the worst people (I'm looking at you, CAH people) are also some of the funniest.

But there were also things that I already knew that were confirmed for me, and I cherish those lessons revisited. 

• This program is more than a "school."
• I have some of the best friends in the world. 
• I can embarrass people with little more than an eyebrow twitch.
• Some people just need a hug. 
• Sometimes, it's okay to not be the bad guy. 
• Sometimes, it's great to be the bad guy. 

So that's the roundup.  It was my great pleasure to see my friends Nikki and Ward again, as well as their wonderful sons Wes and Jake, and the ever-energetic Corgis.  If you'd like to see what real talent looks like, by the way, you should check out Nikki Hopeman's new release, Habeas Corpse, which just came out from Blood Bound Books. You won't regret it. 

So leave a comment.  Tell us (the entire cyber-universe and inter webs) what you learned at the res, if you went.  And if you didn't, tell us what you'd like to learn.

Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a book to write.

Here...There be MONSTERS...

The Seton Hill "Readings in the Genre" course has begun, lead by your's truly. Our subject this time around?  Monsters.  They hold a dear place in my heart because, really, aren't we all monsters of a sort?  More on that in a minute. 

I've chosen a motley crew of misanthropic mayhem masters about whom my students must read.  Included are Vampires (that don't sparkle, dammit), werewolves, golems, demons and... well... snow.  Trust me, it all works somehow.  But I think the question that begs answer is this:  Why are we so fascinated by monsters?  Lets look at the famous monsters of literature (I'm not talking movies...Most of those are one-dimensional sacks of fetid dingo's kidneys) and see what makes them so special.

Adam (the creation from Frankenstein... yes, his name was Adam) fascinated us with his simplicity, his desire to be loved.  Child-like, he was dragged into this world and before he could even begin to question his existence, he was rejected by his creator.  Anyone who's ever watched children on the playground knows how children act:  As Adam himself stated, "If I couldn't inspire love, I would then cause fear."  How many children react to rejection with more rejection?  Most of them.  Adam is, for all intents and purposes, a child in the body of a man, lacking the maturity that comes with age, but possessing all the tools to destroy his enemies.

Dracula, on the other hand, possesses the wisdom of immortality.  Say what you will, butDracula is not a horror story.  It's a romance.  A tragic romance, to be certain, but a romance nonetheless.  It is, for all intents and purposes, the story that asks the reader how far he or she would go for love?  Cross an ocean?  A continent?  Reject God?  The titular character is, from his point of view, justified.  Granted, he's been driven mad by the rigors of immortality and having to feed on the life forces of others to survive, but in his mind, all he wants is the girl he lost to an uncaring God.

Look at Quasimodo from Hunchback of Notre Dame or Eric from The Phantom of the Opera and you'll see miserably misshapen men brought to their demises by the search for love and the madness that comes with it.  But the last two aren't "monsters," are they?  Not really, but they became monsters.  Much like we do.

Monsters, historically, take one of our darkest desires, one of our emotions, one of our flaws, and amplify it (or them) to ridiculous degrees until the creature in question becomes the stuff of nightmares.  So if that is true (and it is), then why are we so fascinated with monsters? 

Because they are us.  They are our fear.  They are our passions.  They are our souls, twisted almost beyond recognition and then shown to us.  They are what happens when we forget our humanity.  They are what happens when we lack the wisdom to walk away.  Monsters are designed to teach us lessons about ourselves.  You'll notice, I never called Adam a monster.  Because he wasn't.  His creator, Victor, blinded by ambition and selfish pride, was the monster.   Yet it was Adam with whom we identified.  Because we've all been that creature.  We've all felt betrayed, thrown out by those who should, but don't, care. 

They are us.  We are them.  When you read about monsters, think hard about them.  Sympathize with them.  Because they are our brothers and sisters.