Inspired by What I See

Visuals as inspiration - mine start simply enough. Witness this mild mannered umbrella that opens out into a demon trap.

 

 

Then we get a little bit more complicated. Tell me this sign doesn't cry out for some major backstory. SO MANY BACKSTORIES. The story of the idjits summoning things at Subway - The story of the thing summoned - The story of the poor, beleaguered manager of the Subway shop. "God damn it. I'm trying to make a sandwich and now I've got to clean up another decapitation because you people can't get your séances right? Seriously?"

 

To this video of awesome that is straight up going in one of my scifi stories because the heroine is a demolitions expert and this is the coolest thing just about ever. Well. Okay. The ping pong balls and liquid nitrogen were cool. But this is definitely a close second. And yes. Things that go BOOM win. I am apparently very easily amused.

 

 

 

Pictures That Inspire a [Hundred] Thousand Words

I could probably crash Blogger with the collection of images that inspire moments, scenes, characters, settings, etc. of my books. Visual aids are second only to songs for stimulating the grey cells. I comb Twitter for artists whose work I admire, may of whom provide special treats if you support them on Patreon.  If I wasn't concerned about ruining the readers' interpretation of people/places/monsters in my stories, I'd have a Pinterest board for every book I've ever started--including the ones that never progressed past Chapter Five.

Here are a few images frothing the ol' brain-juice for NIVURN, the sequel to LARCOUT, still in progress.

The Monsters of Brent Hollowell:

The Creatures of Mike Corriero:

Writers' Nightmares: Running Out of Creative Juice

When the horror strikes, when my creativity feels humdrum, unoriginal, or pitiful, I step away from tech. No, no, I'm nowhere near as healthy as James and his bucolic strolls. I've a thing for snorting fumes. I like to...

Paint Stuff.

Walls mostly. I'm not talented by any stretch. I'm no great artist like some of my fellow bordello mates. I tried to paint dragons on my fireplace once. Looked like a giant had sneezed on it instead. ~ew~ I can freehand some scroll work and know to wipe a stencil after each application. There's a mandala I'm toying with in a sketchbook that I think I want to paint on an exterior wall of my house...or polka dots. I'd love to pull off a dragon reading a book, but see the aforementioned last disaster with dragons.

I aspire to be a Rehab Rhonda. I have scads of those upcycled sites bookmarked. Sadly, I don't have a carpenter's workshop in my garage. I want to. I fantasize about miter saws, routers of the non-wifi sort, cordless nailers, and jigs that may or may not involve kilts. Oh, and small-order lumber delivery services. I tried to fit a 2x4 in my Bug once, the drive home was like a Benny Hill skit.

What I like about painting is the tangible end result. Visual. Visible. Hard to miss. Short-term effort. Long-term enjoyability. All the things that writing a novel isn't.

Okay, okay, you're right. Paperbacks are tangible. 

Painting is both my mental break and my well of creative renewal. By the time I'm done with the paint project, I'm eager to return to the WiP.

Finding Inspiration

by Allison Pang

I'm on vacation this week for my regularly scheduled escape to the shore, so at the moment, my inspiration is currently limited to refilling the creativity well via long walks on the beach and sitting in the sun.

That being said, the picture here was supposed to have been an egret standing on the post. But even though my camera was lined up and ready to go, I waited too long trying to get the perfect shot and a few moments later something spooked the bird and it flew away.

Sometimes I feel that way about ideas. I can get them easily enough for the most part - inspiration can and does come from anything. And I'm not always in a rush to write them down - I've found it can be better to let things percolate and see what sticks strongest.

(I've probably made this point before around the same time during previous years, only with seashells or

something - there's always one more shell under the waves - it's hard not to try to collect them all - but then it can be *so* hard to decide which is the best/your favorite and that can lead to a sort of idea paralysis.)

However, ideas that don't get written down don't become books. Inspiration aside, waiting too long to create the perfect story usually means it never happens - better to get some notes down or a basic outline if nothing else. Even if you're not quite ready to write it, at least you've got something to come back to.

So while I'm not doing much actual writing during this trip, I am doing a fair amount of idea percolating. (Surprise, most ideas are ocean related, but there are obvious reasons for that.) >_<

I might even be writing some of them down.

The Deluge of Inspiriation & The Danger of Details

What sparks my creativity? From where do my ideas come? Do I research my concepts or just the details?

Questions, questions.

~drums fingers with glee~

Story concepts come to me often. Very, very often. More often than dog hair appears in my coffee.  They really like to come in groups, great whooping distractions during the writing of another story. I've no shortage of BIG ideas.  From whence do they come? Uh. Hmm. Bwwwwwains. Nummy bwwwains. Whatever the scientific or mystical source, I'm just grateful they keep coming.  Usually the concept slaps me with a vivid scene. A moment in the grander story. It's akin to a 30 second video clip. If I'm lucky, it might make it to a full  five minutes of quality daydreaming time. I then wrap a plot, characters, and settings around it. Sometimes, it's not the scene but the protagonist who will come to me. She'll rap on my forehead. Arch an expectant brow. Every detail of her is clear to me. Every scar, every thread, every stain, every strand of hair...even how she smells (which ain't always a pleasant aroma, I assure you). 

The details of the story, however, require effort...and research.

Like most authors, I can get easily lost in research. Use the right resources and the research is more than enlightening; it's fun and hella distracting. Therein lies the danger of research. The hours, days, and months lost in the weeds of research when all we needed was one pine tree. Sure verifying credible sources is a good idea, but that too can send one on the wrong trail. Try to resist. I use a three-source rule if I need accurate data. I stop verifying after I find three (preferably diverse) places with the same info. And I don't limit my searches to The Wiki no matter how convenient it is.  I've a story about stone movers. I had to research assorted types of rocks (a geologist I am not). Jewelers' sale pages and FAQs turned out to be the most helpful. Web searches are great for that sort of thing.

All hail the Google-Fu. 

However, if I need to "feel" an environment, then I read, I watch TV, view paintings & sculptures, listen to music...there's no limit to the sources I'll use. I drench myself in a specifically crafted environment. Example: I've a WiP in which a third of the story takes place on galleons and in shipyards. There's a whole lotta jargon and physical detail that I had to research before I applied the filter of what I used versus what I just needed to know for framing references. There are countless shows, films, books, librettos, etc., on the topic. My favorite go-to for writing those scenes was my father's fifty year old album (yes, vinyl plate) of sea chanties. It continues to be well loved. I continue to need a bar of Ivory Soap for singing along.  ~ehem~

Ideas for stories aren't hard to come by, thankfully. However, the danger of the details isn't in the sources, but in the time-suck.

Looking for Inspiration? Got Some Right Here!

So Friday afternoons here, in our little community outside of Santa Fe, we have a local Farmer's Market. It's smaller and less mobbed than the big Saturday morning one in town. David gets a table there for his practice, The Eldorado Acupuncture Center, and I usually go with him. Sometimes I sell some books. Mostly we sit there and enjoy the sunshine and talking to our neighbors.

This week, the guy next to us had fresh pecans from his cousin's orchard down in Carlbad. Fresh off the trees, great big bags for $10. Very tempting, but what would we do with them? And I thought: pecan pie.

It sounded surprisingly good for something I typically associate with Thanksgiving and Christmas, with chilly weather and heavy, rich meals. In fact, I think I've very rarely ever had a slice of pecan pie without also having an accompanying piece of pumpkin pie and cherry pie, on the same plate.

Because, of course, I always want some of each.

So this was different. I made the pie yesterday afternoon, with the air conditioner running. Making that and only that. It goes surprisingly fast, when you're not also running batches of cookies and minding the simple syrup for fudge. We had a light supper of lean chicken and veggies, with the sumptuously sweet and delightfully nutty pie for dessert.

A fabulous treat. I don't think I've ever enjoyed a slice of pecan pie more.

This, my friends, is what inspiration is about. Which is our topic this week -The Creative Spark & Research: Where do you get your ideas and how do you research them. Inspiration can come from anything - the trick is to be open to it. To see the bags of pecans and think of making something you wouldn't usually make. Something as simple as pecan pie becomes special in a different season and context. When an idea hits, run with it and see what happens.

I suspect that when most people ask "where do you get your inspiration?" what they really want to know is "why didn't I have the idea for The Hunger Games?" Or like that. The thing is, you never know when you have the idea, which one will be the next breakthrough. Making a pecan pie at the end of June is hardly an extraordinary event. But it was fun for us. Added some extra sparkle and enjoyment to a summer weekend.

Follow the zing. You never know where it might lead.

Jeffe's Hateful Advice for Crawling Out of a Writer's Slump

Winter arrived with a vengeance to my high desert home last week, making for gorgeously frosty vistas.

The roads cleared just in time for us to hightail it down the Interstate to spend Thanksgiving with my family in Tucson, Arizona. It's been good to be around the blooming flowers and the palm trees. And being with my family is busy - lots of cooking and errands and dinners out and conversations. Totally different than my daily life.

I knew ahead of time that I wouldn't be able to keep up with writing. I never can. And yet I still kidded myself that maybe I'd be able to. After all, what about those early morning hours? There would be down time and all I need is a couple of hours here or there. Then I get here and that imaginary time vaporizes. I have no down time and it's hard to find a quiet space to work in. Even if people are busy doing other things, I still get interrupted and I find it difficult to concentrate. My days take on a totally different rhythm and I'm not the person I usually am.

But visiting my family and taking a few days off is good for me, I know So I try to let it go - and David coaxes me this way, too - to let myself rest for a few days and not worry about my productivity. 

There's a thing, though. 

The thing is this kind of pressure. It's like the water building up behind a dam and the dam is me. I begin to feel the cracks in my skin, because the water has nowhere to go. My floodgates are closed, those big locking wheels dialed shut by another meal, a shopping trip, a party. The strain builds and I worry that the water may overtop the dam, destroying the village below. 

This should be good, right? Because before I left, I was feeling dry and wrung out. So, the build-up of words should make me happy. 

However, for me at least, it doesn't work that way.

This week's topic is the Writer's Slump: How to crawl out of it. 

I wish had some lovely ritual to recommend. Light a candle, say a prayer to the appropriate goddess, something where I offer wise and comforting words about seducing your muse. I confess, I even contemplated making something up like that, so I could put up a jazzy and inspirational post for you all. 

But it would be a lie.

One thing works to get me writing and one thing only.

Writing.

Yes, yes - I see you out there clutching your skulls, calling me nasty names while you wonder why you've read this far. I totally get that this is non-advice.

Nevertheless.

To open those pipes again, to let the water flow forth as it should, life-giving instead of -destroying, I have to make myself write. 

And - kill me now - is the process painful.

Putting those first words down after a pause of even two days (for some reason, a one-day break is fine), feels like using all my strength to turn those rusty wheel-locks. I break my nails and strain my ligaments, getting that lock to budge the first notch. With every word I lay down, the wheel turns a titch more - not freely, but grudgingly - then with more give, until the water leaks around the edges of the seal. 

That first day, if I'm lucky, I might get my feet wet. 

The next, I could be wading around - still a lot of effort and not fun, but at least I'm in the water.

Before long, I'm swimming, surfing the wave and feeling all the joy that brings. 

But I only know the one way to get there. 

Write a word.

Then another. 

Drop by drop, we find the ocean.

The Lines I Have Crossed

I've committed plagiarism. It's how I found out what it is. I was in the tenth grade, writing a paper analyzing some book or the other. In reading someone else's analysis of the story, I picked up a sentence verbatim and subsequently didn't cite the source. Isaac Asimov, I think. Hell, if you're going to screw something up, go straight to the top. It wasn't a research paper, right? Citation didn't belong in an essay, or so I thought. One teacher called it out. Another defended me, saying I was bright enough to have come up with that sentence all on my own.

I'll love her forever for her faith in me.

Except I wasn't that bright, was I? I wasn't even clever enough at fifteen to figure out that by not citing my source, I'd passed his work off as mine until someone said the word 'plagiarism'. After I'd looked it up, and realized with one of those nasty thumps that makes you feel two inches tall that I was guilty, I made damned sure I never made the mistake again.

That was writing nonfiction, something that doesn't particularly fill me with smurfy joy and glittery rainbows. Not like fiction does. Okay. Maybe not smurfy joy. Don't let it shock you when I confess I might be a titch more Vulcan subdued than that. Regardless, the point of writing fiction is that I'm putting words on paper in an effort to get the all-consuming story and its noisy characters out of my brain space. Other people's words will not do. I do have sympathy for anyone on a deadline who suddenly finds there's nothing in their heads but an echo chamber - but that's part of the writing experience. You're a writer when you stare into that abyss, wrestle down anxiety, and show up at your keyboard anyway. It's also the point at which inspiration might be useful.

Except when I get a hold of inspiration and break it.

I was attempting my first SFR novel. There was a TV show I loved. I wanted to imitate the tone. Got a third of the way into the book. A contest came up judged by librarians and book sellers. I entered the opening of that WIP. The scores came back. They were good. The comments were enthusiastic. "My customers would love this! It reminds me of *name of TV show*." This is how I discovered that I seem to have a knack for mimicry. Not a line of what I'd written was plagiarism per se, but I'd done so well imitating the voice of the show that two different judges nailed it by name. Inspiration had crossed a line that gave me the willies.

I took the WIP out and buried it, unfinished, in the backyard.

My cold comfort is that I can do this singing, too. Not like the gal who imitates 19 different singers in one song - cause if I could, I'd totally be looking for a way to parlay that into a European tour of some kind. Ply me with alcohol sometime and ask for Barbara Streisand. Or don't. I'm not sure that demonstration would win us any friends.

Kind of like how writing a story that lifts copy from someone else, or strangling inspiration to the point that readers can ID what inspired you (unless you're writing really skillful parody) won't win friends. It sure influences people, though. In that 'you're going down in infamy' kind of way.

The Sincerest Form of Flattery?

It’s your part-time Whore, Jane Kindred, here, filling in for Allison again. 

This week’s post is going to have to be a short one, because I decided to demonstrate taking imitation too far by damaging my C7 vertebra somehow and compressing a nerve in my spine. And I’ll tell you what: this effing hurts. In addition to the fingers on my left hand being just numb enough to feel like they’re on fire, I can barely stand, walk, sit, or lie down—which, you may notice, doesn’t leave me with a whole lot of options. And so I’m on lots of drugs. Only I’m allergic to all the really helpful ones, so these aren’t doing much.

The point of which is not to gain sympathy, but to explain why this post will be kind of discombobulated and also to say that I really feel for Allison…literally. I can’t imagine how she deals with this on an ongoing basis, and I really hope the surgery gives her the relief she deserves.

But to touch on the actual topic of the week, rather than bring up the same examples others have mentioned already, I want to briefly talk about the disturbing idea I’ve seen touted on occasion that plagiarism is somehow artistic license. There seems to be an appalling laziness and lack of understanding of what art is by certain young writers who’ve been in the news in the past few years around this topic. Growing up in an era of music sampling by other artists—and then outright music stealing (aka “sharing”)—it’s not really surprising that some writers see nothing wrong with lifting whole passages out of someone else’s work and expecting those authors to be flattered by it. After all, like music, books are just out there for the taking, anyway. And writers are supposed to be flattered by that, too. I mean, seriously, what, are we just that greedy that we expect to make a living off our hard work? Shouldn’t we be grateful that someone wants to steal it? The artist is increasingly devalued as the art is devalued, and this kind of thinking is just one of the many causes of devalued art in recent years.

This is a hard calling to have. And many of us do it because it is a calling. We couldn’t stop if we tried. We can’t stop even when it’s causing us physical pain, because the mental and emotional pain of not writing is worse. We have people and worlds in our heads that want out. And when somebody cavalierly snatches something so personal and decides to call it their own—that’s just sort of unfathomable to me.

So when does inspiration or imitation go too far? When it’s neither. It’s certainly possible for two authors to come up with uncannily similar ideas independently of one another. It happens in Hollywood all the time, or so I’m told. But the actual words of a writer are their brushstrokes. They’re individual, and a forgery stands out. Though full-on ideas can also be plagiarized. I know of a couple of writers who have actually had former critique partners take their ideas after they’d been well developed and write their own version with absolutely no qualms about it. Come to think of it, maybe that’s why I don’t have any critique partners.

Yikes. I thought I said this week’s post was going to be a short one. Blame it on the meds. They may finally be kicking in.

Drawing that Squiggly Line Between Inspiration and Plagiarism

Release day for ROGUE'S POSSESSION is tomorrow!!

So, you know, you could totally pre-order it. I mean, I wouldn't be a true Word Whore if I didn't offer you some buy links right here and now, right???

Carina
B&N
Amazon

~does seductive click-the-buy-link dance~

Thank you!

And now, onward to the meat of this Sunday post, the real reason you stopped by, yes?

This week's topic is Inspiration vs Imitation: How Far is Too Far?

Which is quite apropos, given the many scandals that seem to be plaguing the writing community recently. The most recent one is Dave Eggers' new novel, The Circle, was lifted from memoir written by Kate Losse, former ghostwriter for Facebook's Mark Zuckerberg. You can read the Salon article here. The upshot, however, is that Eggers released this statement about it:

I’ve just heard about the claims of Kate Losse that my novel, The Circle, was somehow based on a work of nonfiction she wrote. I want to make it clear that I have never read and have never heard of her book before today. I did not, in fact, read any books about any internet companies, or about the experiences of anyone working at any of these companies, either before or while writing The Circle. I avoided all such books, and did not even visit any tech campuses, expressly because I didn’t want The Circle to seem to be based on any extant companies or upon the experiences of any employees of any extant companies. Because The Circle has not been released, it’s my understanding that Kate Losse has not read my novel yet, so I trust that when she does read it she’ll understand that I have not read, and certainly never lifted anything from, her book.

What I find interesting is his insistence that he did not read any books on similar topics or go near the tech companies. I kind of want to ask if he stayed off Facebook and Twitter, too, but that would be snarky.

And, let me be clear, reliable folks have gone and read both books and they all seem to agree that Eggers lifted nothing from Losse.

I'm just kind of amused by the lengths he says he went to in avoiding his story on reality, which is kind of bizarre, given that he started as a memoirist (with A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius). On second thought, maybe that's part of why he wanted to draw such a clear line within himself.

The thing is, every memoirist knows that this line is never clear. I can say this with confidence, having been a published memoirist and having participated in countless discussions and panels exploring this very thing. Calling a work fiction doesn't change the fact that the writer is still drawing from the real world.

Do I think Eggers plagiarized? Absolutely not. Do I think he couldn't help but draw on extant companies?

Yes yes yes.

More, I think it's disingenuous for any writer to think that he or she doesn't do this.

Of course, there's a huge difference between taking someone's book, replacing the character names and publishing it as your own. Or lifting entire passages from someone else's novel and sticking it in your own. Or taking a book like Twilight and writing a fan fiction version of it where Edward is a sexual dominant and Bella his submissive - then later changing some of the names and setting details.

But, of those three examples, the last is not plagiarism. It's Fifty Shades of Grey, an international bestseller. Do some people think that it took inspiration too far? Sure. A lot of them do. Is it plagiarism? Nope.

Would I, personally, do that? No.

That's my vague and wiggly line. I accept that all the thousands of books and stories I've read in my life now feed into what I write. I don't think I could make a statement like Eggers did, because I can't be sure that it's true. I read eclectically, widely and near constantly. Who knows where the stuff in my head comes from?

(Not incidentally, the gal who owns the gym I go to said to me yesterday, "Your head must be a crazy place to live." I took it as a compliment.)

But I would never deliberately adopt someone else's world or characters. I know a lot of writers get started with fan fiction and love being able to do that. For me, it's an internal line I don't want to ever cross.

It's just a shade too far for my taste.

New Story Ideas - When and How to Share Them

I'm in Tucson this weekend, celebrating my mom's birthday. Isn't she fabulous? I'm not allowed to say which birthday this is, but I can tell you it's a prime number greater than 67 and less than 73.

So fun to be here, but that means I'm away from my books and so I can't look up the quote I wanted to use for this week's post. I feel sure I've used it before, but I can't find it now. Alas.

This week's topic is "How soon do you talk about a new story idea: to whom & to what end?" When I run across this particular question, I always think of this quote that goes something like "Be careful of giving your fire away too soon." I'm pretty sure Robert Bly said it.

That resonated with me when I first read it, easily 20 years ago. A new story idea does feel full of fire to me. It burns with its own life energy. That enthusiasm and excitement is key, because it will carry me through the long marathon of actually writing it.

And it's very easy to give it away too soon.

Every time you share the idea, it takes away a little of the fire. I don't really know why this is - just that it's true. Even if you share the idea with someone you totally trust, it diminishes the thriving energy of it, ever so slightly.

I suspect this has something to do with the subconscious, the seat of creativity. Maybe when we move that bubble of idea from the non-linear right-brain world of formless thought and into the left-brain conscious mind, where it gets defined by words, it gets scaled down in size. Just as what we imagine changes forever once we try to make it real - like a song always sounds so much better in my head than when I'm singing it - perhaps ideas suffer a similar reduction in magic, moving from formless to more defined.

So, I'm careful about sharing it too soon.

When I do, I share it with very special people. I did a post a while back where I compared sharing a new story idea with the wrong people to Shaken Baby Syndrome. I still love that analogy. In essence, it comes down to treating a new story idea - or a new story - like a delicate infant. The only people who get to hold your baby are the ones who know how to support her head and will be gentle and nurturing.

I also make sure I'm sharing the new idea for the right reasons. If I'm going to lose a little fire by discussing it, I need to get something back for that. One of my critique partners has a gift for helping me draw out a story. She and I have a certain harmony that gives her insight into my more formless thoughts. She's great at helping me put words to the idea. Another CP is very good at plotting and motivation. She asks me the hard questions. Which means I have to be at a point where I'm ready to think about it the story that way. Another CP challenges me on marketability of the idea - so that's even farther down the path of refining my idea.

When in doubt, I remind myself to say nothing yet.

Be careful of giving away your fire too soon.