Envy and Imitation

"There is a time in every man's education when he arrives at
the conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide;
that he must take himself for better, for worse, as his portion;
that though the wide universe is full of good, no kernel or
nourishing corn can come to him but through his toil bestowed
on that plot of ground which is given to him to till."
-- Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Self-Reliance"

It's okay. Every writer does it. I do it. You do it. The best-sellers do it. The indie savants do it. 

We tend to ape -- sometimes unintentionally, sometimes on purpose -- our favorite writers and pick up on the traits we enjoy about their work. 

When I started writing, I was determined to be the next C.S. Lewis. Not the Narnia Lewis but the Space Trilogy and the Till We Have Faces Lewis. Because of that, my writing was overblown and way too wordy. And I also sounded British--using British turns of phrase and UK slang. Don't take my word for it. You can trust the fine folks at The New Yorker and The Missouri Review, who both told me the same thing. I still have both rejection letters in a binder with other memories from my writer's journey. 

When I started my Bachelor's classes in Literature, I found out how much I loved the novels and short stories of a certain boisterous and burly man-baby named Hemingway. So I moved on from the verbose intelligence and heavy vocabulary of C.S. Lewis for the clean, crisp, succinct prose of Papa Hemingway. 

The trouble was that I was still playing the imitation game. 

Only something was changing, something I wasn't even aware of.

Every Man's Education

After Hemingway, I went down the 20th Century American Literature rabbit hole. There was Raymond Carver, Flannery O'Connor, Eudora Welty, Zora Neale Hurston, Langston Hughes (yes, stories not just poetry), and Shirley Jackson. As their ideas and styles added to what I had learned to apply from Papa, I noticed my way of writing changed significantly. I retained my love for simple sentences and direct nouns and verbs without lots of adverbs and adjectives, but I turned away from trying to be so "Literary" and embraced the "Southern" of my youth. 

And so began my phase of "Southern Literary" where I found the themes of Welty, O'Connor, Hurton, etc. weaving into my fiction. However, the voice was always changing from the Lewis/Hemingway copycat to something new that blended bits and bobs from lots of influences. 

It was during this time that I wrote for the award-winning Cyber Age Adventures. Being a literary writer, you can imagine the fun I had crafting superhero stories with my lens of literary impact and import. Somehow, it worked. Between Frank Fradella's RPG-inspired adventure yarn set in real-world physics and repercussions, Tom Waltz's quasi-military approach, and my focus of American Literature, we created something unique and engaging in the world of superhero fiction. 

But my inspiration still had some growth to come. 

Imagine the confusion and prosaic mush created when I started exploring for work of the great pulp and pulp-adjacent writers as I tried my hand at some New Pulp Fiction stories thanks to some introductions by friends like Bobby Nash. To do my homework at writing pulpy tales, I dug into the stories (both novels and short stories) of folks like Edgar Rice Burroughs, Robert E. Howard, Dashiell Hammett, and Raymond Chandler, among others. 

With these new influences, my style took another shift. The simple prose of Hemingway was still similar to the simple, direct prose of Chandler, but the types of stories were suddenly allowed to become a lot more, well, more exciting physically and emotionally rather than just the intellectual excitement of my Literary focus.

This began a new phase of what Derrick Ferguson and I often called Literary Pulp. For us, that meant deeper than mere surface characterization, dialogue that does more than just advance the plot, and looking for real-world interactions that didn't sugarcoat the time periods we were writing about. For me, it was just a continuation of what I had been doing since discovering Lewis and Hemingway. Lewis made me want to deal with spiritual and philosophical topics in genre fiction. Hemingway made me want to create characters who, when they spoke about a topic or when they avoided a topic, revealed a lot about who they were. Same uniform, just a different ballfield.

Nourishing Corn on My Own Plot of Ground

Okay. So what did I learn through that journey toward becoming Sean Taylor, the writer? Are there lessons that can help other writers push through their own journeys from imitation to what Emerson called "self-reliance"?

Sure. If you know me at all, you already know I love both tutorials and lists, and when I get to put them together in a single article, I'm suddenly the happiest little clam in the world. 

So here goes...

1. Embrace your idols. 

It's okay to be inspired to imitate. We learn by copying the works of those we enjoy reading. Their stories teach us about story structure, how to write dialog, when to break grammar rules -- all those wonderful techniques that ultimately fill up our writing toolkit and become what we call a personal style and voice. 

Take those inspirations. Work with them. Play with them. Turn them upside down and inside out. Put your own spin on them. Play with all your favorite toys. 

2. There can't only be one. 

Now, here's the trick, isn't it? This is your journey to discovering who you are as a writer, not a rehash of the movie Highlander. 

Imitating a single writer makes you a copycat. Imitation several at once makes you a dedicated learner of the craft. The more you learn from multiple writers, the more you integrate seemingly disparate voices into your own work, and that makes you become unique. Even if you use all the same ingredients, you bake your pie from a different recipe. 

3. Start purging. 

There will be lots of tidbits and style doodads that you find no longer work for you the more comfortable you become in your own writer "skin." That's all part of learning. What doesn't work anymore, excise it. Purge it like last month's leftovers. Eventually, you are left with the style stuff that makes you happy and makes you, well, you. 

Just like I left behind the British-isms of Lewis, you may need to cull the standard adventure motif of Tolkein or Donaldson's ten pages of how brown the mountains and tunnels were. You may need to cull the reliance on the internal monologue you copied from Faulkner. You may need to ditch the sudden shifts in verb tense and -person you picked up from Ed McBain. They may have gotten you to where you are, but they no longer suit you.

4. Good writers borrow. Great writers steal. 

This quote is usually attributed to the poet T.S. Eliot and it is often quoted along with a variation on it by Aaron Sorkin: “Good writers borrow from other writers. Great writers steal from them outright.” Regardless of who said it when and how, it's absolutely true. 

Beginning writers obsess about how much their work may remind them of the folks they admire. Great and practiced writers stop caring after a while. In fact, it's safe to say that all those things you think you will be called out for copying won't even register with most readers. Sure, there will always be reviewers who are paid to make both fair and unfair comparisons, but those are your typical readers. 

Steal proudly. Steal broadly. Steal without any discrimination. Do you like the way Eudora Welty writes winter scenes? Fine. Take it and shove it in your toolkit. Really dig the way Chandler can chop dialogue into snappy fragments? Chisel it right out of his book and hang onto it for your next story. 

New in Nature

Now, before you look at that list above and start to craft a plan, stop. Those aren't steps in a printout from Mapquest in 2006. You don't aim for step one and then turn off Highway 20 onto step two like it's some kind of organized plan. 

What is it then?

It's a synopsis of what happens to us as writers. It's a description of the process more than an outline to follow. It's something organic, not ordained. Something passive, not planned. 

It's one thing to be aware of it and acknowledge it and not let it consume you with imposter syndrome. But it's another thing entirely to see it as a roadmap for your writing goals. That shift in thinking is both subtle and crucial. 

The next line in the Emerson quote that started this essay is this: 

The power which resides in him is new in nature, and none but he knows what that is which he can do, nor does he know until he has tried.

Ultimately it comes down to this: TRY.

Enjoy what you enjoy and let it shape you as a writer. Read, consume, mulch it in your mind, turn it into brain food, rinse and repeat. It's really as simple and as complicated as that. 

Motivational Monday: Own It

 

Motivational Monday: Not by Dreaming

[Link] The New World of Writing: Pulp Speed

by Dean Wesley Smith

I’ve mentioned this concept a number of times on my nightly blog and in the Topic of the Night little sections. But since Pulp Speed was almost impossible in the new traditional world, it belongs as a post in this series.

Not at all sure why this idea sort of hits me right. I think because it flies in the face of all the myths. A writer has to have all myths under control to even attempt this. So this post might just make you angry because it hits at belief systems I’m afraid.

The second reason I can’t shake this idea is because for all of my life I have idolized pulp writers. I used to study them and their lives. (And yet, even with all that knowledge, I still spent seven years in the rewriting to death trap. Go figure.)

Many, many of the great writers of the past that we still read and enjoy were pulp writers. And there are many pulp writers working today. More than you might imagine, even through the rough times of the last twenty years in traditional publishing.

Now, right here, before I get started, I’m going to repeat what I always say. No writer is the same as any other writer.

And most writers could never do what I am about to talk about.

Pulp Speed writing is a mind-set for writers who have cleared out damn never every myth and belief taught to them about writing by English teachers. A Pulp Speed writer loves to just tell stories, one right after another. So remember, no writer is the same as another writer. And if this hits you wrong, it might not be for you to even think about in any fashion.

But for others, this might just be the ticket to a bright new future, just to learn this is possible and happening.

Continue reading: http://www.deanwesleysmith.com/the-new-world-of-writing-pulp-speed/

Nugget #9 -- Two Perspectives

As I see it, there are primarily two perspectives on writing – the practical perspective and the spiritual perspective. Most of us 
fall somewhere on the number line between them, 
but we tend to favor one over the other.

Hopping Down the Bloggy Trail (with apologies to the Easter Bunny)

I've been selected to do a Blog Hop with fellow authors Bobby Nash, Lee Houston Jr., and Ralph Angelo Jr. Be sure to go back and check out their entries if you just popped in.

What am I working on?

The easier question would be "What are you not working on?" Currently I'm trying to put to bed my new Rick Ruby story, along with a secret project for a popular pulp publisher of comics and prose. After that, I'll be knee deep in two novellas, one featuring my favorite hook-handed drunkard, Armless O'Neil, and the other featuring an early heroine called Senorita Scorpion. After that, I'm still booked pretty solid, and I'll be finishing up my first novel, a lurid 60's noir about dead hookers, regret-filled private eyes, and dirty cops tentatively called You Never Forget Your First.

How does my work differ from others in its genre?

Well, there's a loaded question that just welcomes a little vanity, doesn't it? But I'll dive in anyway since anyone who knows me knows that I've never let the risk of a little (or a lot of) vanity stop me from talking about my work.

Anyway, I think (or maybe I just like to think) that because I got my start as a literary writer that I've brought a bit of that sensibility over to my genre work. I'm a firm believer that the line between literary and genre is fading in the minds of readers, and that both benefit from getting to know each other better and picking up each other's habits. Good fiction is good fiction, period. And hopefully, that's what I'm creating.

Why do I write what I do?

Because it's what I like to read. I want to write stories that I'll want to go back and read. I compare it to songwriters who write songs they'll want to go back and listen to, rather than get so annoyed and tired of a song that they want to turn the station.


I love more than about anything to be able to go back to a story I've written and find that it says something new to me that I didn't intend (at least intentionally) when I wrote it.

How does your writing process work?

I write best at Starbucks. Period. Don't know why. I used to write in the wee hours of the morning or in the late hours of the night -- mostly because that was the only time I had to write. But lately, I prefer to write during "office hours." And I find that I do it best in a place when I can balance and entertain both the intravert and extravert sides of my personality. I can seal my "coccoon" at the table and work, then when I need to interact with others, I can take a break and go flirt and cut up with the baristas. It's the best of both worlds.

As for the pre-writing process, I've learned that I write best and most efficiently when I take the time to write out a plot document first. I'm always free to divert from it as the characters dictate, but at least I have a road map that leaves me free to focus on the writing and not the plotting while I work. That way I can listen to the important stuff like the sounds of the words and the voices of the characters rather than wondering where I need to go next.

Hope everyone enjoyed the blog hop! Well, time to get back to work.

The Writer Will Take Your Questions Now #275 -- Literary Tells

I got to thinking yesterday how, if I were to write something under a pseudonym, people who had read much of my work could probably figure out it was me pretty quickly.  The main reason is that I have what I think of as a couple of very obvious "tells"-- things I tend to do a lot when I write, that are like fingerprints identifying me.What are your writing fingerprints? --Van Allen Plexico (www.plexico.net) 

My, my, my poker face.
My, my poker face.

Ooh. I really, really like this question, and I've thought about this before (a lot, I'm embarrassed to say -- as one shouldn't think about his or her own "writing" as much as be actually writing instead, I feel).

Regardless, I think I have quite a few tells that would negate my "poker face" when writing:

1. Sentence fragments. I can't help myself. I love them. I particularly love them when I'm trying to speed up the physical action or the "action of thought." I do. Really do. A lot.

2. "Go to" dialog beats. I find that in my stories, people will sigh, clear their throats, look up, wrinkle their brows in thought, or sit down and cross their legs quite a bit. It's a minor thing, I guess, but it's something to break up the dialog and to make the characters do real life people stuff while they talk.

3. Hard and soft sound combinations. I love to string together hard K,D, and P sounds when I want the reading to intentionally slow down or when I want emphasize a piece of story, such as a punch or argument or internal realization. I also tend to string together soft S, Z, M, and N sounds when I want to speed up the read and give it an easy-going feel. 

But that's just what I've learned about me. Those of you who have read my work, what
do YOU think? What have YOU found to be common tells in my literary poker face?