I'm trying to think just how many stories I've killed this year. A few months ago, there was the alien invasion novel that I'd spent a few years on. A few months after that was one about astronauts exploring a distant planet. And about a month ago, I started a story about a kid raising himself in a zombie apocalypse; that one died a few days ago.
I don't admit this with pride. It sucks putting down a story. Some of these, like the invasion story, grew beyond the original conceit. Others I felt weren't too different from what was already out there. The one about the kid didn't feel any different than The Walking Dead: hordes of zombies, empty cities in ruins, etc.
I guess the "blind" is the best word to describe my week; it feels like I'm groping around blindly looking for that story that feels just right. I could probably fit in among a thousand monkeys at a thousand typewriters.
Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter hits theaters on Friday. Unlike a lot of people amongst moviegoers, I read the book before the trailers were whispered. I'm not one of those assholes who sees a preview, gets excited, and then claims to have had a hard-on for the subject since day one. Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter (the book) by Seth Grahame-Smith left a profound mark on me as a reader and a writer. Along with Dacre Stoker's Dracula the Un-Dead, it's one of only two novels that I've read nearly cover to cover in one sitting; actually, I read nearly three-quarters of Grahame-Smith's book without my ass leaving the chair.
As we all sharpen our metaphorical stakes, I'd like to take a moment to tell you why this book is so important to me.
First, it immediately hooked me. Lincoln stood tall on the cover of the book with an axe behind his back and a bloody hand-print on his coat. And when the 16th president is bloodied, and not in Ford's Theater, the first question that pops to mind is, "Why is he covered in blood?" I picked up the book and the details sucked me in further right from the opening. I still remember it, the author describing his (fictional, I presume) meeting with the vampire Henry Sturges, and talking about Lincoln's journals. I still remember the description of those journals on the first page: "The books laid out in front of me were the only things now. The ten leather-bound books of varying size - each one a different shade of black or brown. Some merely old and worn. Others barely held together by their cracked covers, with pages that seemed like they'd crumble if turned by anything stronger than a breath." I'm a sucker for details, and the weight of the age of the journals drew me in. I had to know more.
Second, Lincoln is human. We have, I think, a somewhat mythologized view of Abraham Lincoln, the man who saved the Union, who ended slavery. We don't stop to think about his baggage. What I like about this version of Lincoln is that he does something very noble out of a very dark motive. He's vengeful. He's fueled by hate. I always knew that flawed characters - from Oedipus to Darth Vader - where the most interesting, but Grahame-Smith seemed to nail it home for me. Any pivotal character I write about must be fundamentally scarred because, as a reader and a writer, I have to know whether or not those flaws will ultimately do him in.
Third, it's a great genre story. I'm a big fan of alternate history. Just mention Harry Turtledove to me. But this is meant to be a secret history. Beneath the election, the Civil War, the assassination, what readers find is a fictional story woven in with historical fact. To make up a story while keeping it within the boundary of fact is a very difficult thing to do. I've tried, and almost always failed. Grahame-Smith does it well.
Finally, the book and the writer have both inspired me to do better with my own work. I met Seth Grahame-Smith just once in March of 2010. He did a talk and book-signing at Vroman's in Pasadena, which stands out as one of the best author meet-and-greets that I can think of; we talked about the bullshit that is Twilight - "In my day, vampires were for killing, not for kissing," he said - and had a short, lighthearted debate over just how much justice Francis Ford Coppola did to Dracula.
I was still finding my feet in grad school and asked him if he had any advice for an aspiring writer. Looking back, I think it was unfair of me to put him on the spot like that, but he was gracious enough to write something in my copy of Abraham Lincoln: "Don't let yourself get up to pee until you've written 1,000 words."
Seth, I'm halfway there and getting closer. Thanks.
For the last year, I've been a member of the Academy of American Poets. In fact, this is my second time as a member; the first time, I was fresh out of college. A couple of weeks ago, I got a notice in the mail that it was time to renew my membership. I tore it up and tossed in the trash. But I did renew my subscription to Poets & Writers Magazine, and I think I'm about to go into my second year as a member of the Association of Writers and Writing Programs (AWP). The membership is a two-year stint when I signed up last June, so it's not up for renewal yet).
What was it about the Academy of American Poets that put it on the chopping block not once but twice?
I'm not about to disrespect the Academy. It's a fine organization that's been around for years, decades. But it wasn't right for me. Over the last year, I've pretty much abandoned my poetry work. There are events put on by the Academy, but they're all in New York, which doesn't help me living in Los Angeles with no travel budget. In fact, the only benefit my membership has given me was the fact that I can put it on my resume. At $50 per year, it just didn't seem worth it.
AWP, on the other hand, is a useful resource for a writer looking for a job. They let writers know about any job openings nationwide through their monthly newsletter, have a career services program that makes it quick and convenient for writers to send their resumes and other relevant materials to potential employers, and they'll sometimes review you resume to see if there are any openings they feel you might be particularly interested in.
Poets & Writers Magazine is another thing that I feel worthy of a writer, as they always have information on upcoming contests and grants, as well as wonderful articles on how writers can make the most out of their talents (this is in their "Practical Writer" section, which has become my favorite part of the magazine). On top of that, a lot of the time, they have a cover story that could really boost a writer's professional spirits; any writer will tell you that a boost in morale is welcome.
If you think that joining a bunch of literary organizations is the way to go for your career, be warned. These organizations are not gatekeepers to something grand, and membership does not promise that you'll wallow in literary luxury. Instead, you have to find what's out there that works for you.
I worked on a short story tonight, and got a little over a thousand words added to it. Not bad, even though at the last minute, I decided not to continue with it. It was the usual reason: I just wasn't feeling it. Yes, it sounds like something trite that a dork would say, but this dork was being honest about.
Ending the short story didn't bother me in the least. In fact, nothing about writing or being a writer today bothered me.
I hopped into my truck and drove to Culver City where I reconnected with some Antioch friends in town for their residency. Lunch. Bullshitting. Off-color jokes. It felt like the year that went by since I graduated evaporated, and for a little while I was more at ease. I breathed a little more easily. I sat with a little more slack. I even drove to Venice where I'd rented a beach house with some of my fellow students just before graduating.
None of this actually has anything to do with writing, but when I got home in the evening and sat at my computer, the words came out more fluidly. Even though I ended up discarding the story, deep down I knew that I would be back on the horse in no time. I don't know how I knew. I just knew. Again, trite but honest.
It's interesting what an afternoon with friends can do. If you feel like you're in a funk with whatever you're writing (or just in a funk in general), give it a shot.
All writers need to kill something.
Oh, that doesn't sound good at all. Let me rephrase: all writers need to kill a piece of their own fiction. That's better. See? It sounds so much nicer when people aren't the victims.
I was going through some old papers yesterday and I realized that I still had the old alien invasion novel that I poured so much time and energy into only to see it end without the glory of a publisher. I don't know why I held on to the hard copy of the drafts or the files of it I had on my computer. It might have been, in part, because I spend a semester at grad school working on it, refining and raising it to a higher level of existence; I didn't want to see it destroyed.
Then, I took the drafts of their binders and started shredding them. The notes too.
There's more to this than the mere clearing of space. Keeping a failed novel is like hanging out with an ex-girlfriend while trying to move on with your new girlfriend; you're subconsciously tempted to repeat past mistakes. And with every new one, you'll compare them to the old one. I'm back to talking about books, by the way, not women.
So if you have a piece of writing that never quite worked out, get and destroy it. I mean, physically destroy it. That finality is an indication that you're ready to move on.
My beloved grad school Antioch University begins its spring residency today. It only felt appropriate to give a shout out to the friends I made there, some of who are still going through the MFA program, and others who teach there. So here's what I learned during grad school.
First, if it feels like you're enduring two weeks of egotistical cocksucking, you are. New students are scared and need that encouragement to feel welcome. Graduating students need to feel that their two or two and a half years of hard work has paid off. And you know you like being complimented on your skills too. So, much like the holidays, the residency is a time to give and a time to receive.
Second, respect and savor the Tattle Tale Room. This dive bar may look like a piece of shit (one of the perks of being a dive bar, after all), but it's an incredible hang-out, a forge of wonderful memories blessed by the gods of Rock.
Third, there will be people there who have a hard-on for saving the world from social ills like environmental destruction, economic inequality, and Republicans; and there are people who go to become better writers. Just remember that it's a degree in creative writing you're after, not a degree in being a hippie.
If you feel like you're head is about to explode, Holy Cross Cemetery is right across the street.
If you're going to the closing conversation, bring tissues. People cry there more than at the ending of Charlotte's Web, and there are more hugs than the end of a Saturday Night Live episode.
Paperwork and formatting suck major ass - terrible, hemorrhoid-ridden ass - but there is no Heaven without a Hell.
If you rent a beach house, pray that it gets rented to someone else at the last minute because then you'll be compensated with an even better house without an added cost.
People come and go, but the Four Points hotel will always be affectionately known as the Four Porns.
That said, go learn some new shit!
Today wasn't the best of times. I didn't go to sleep until six in the morning after a night of tossing and turning, pacing back and forth, and staring at the black page of a word processor. It was sheer exhaustion that won me over in the end. When I woke up and tried to get some work done on my novel - the sci-fi survival story - I couldn't get anything out.
It. Just. Looked. Like. Shit. All of it.
As I tried to be more productive in other areas (catching a fly with your bare hands is productive, right?), I started to notice what was missing: workshops.
In case you don't know what a writing workshop is, it's when a group of writers come together to give feedback on each others' writing - what works and what doesn't; what the best parts were and why. It's more than getting a pat on the back from your friends. It's a chance for others to point out flaws that you might have overlooked, or to bring up questions and plot directions that you might have missed.
In other words, the workshop is something that they mention as an invaluable tool in every creative writing class. In fact, it's my opinion that it IS the creative writing class.
Since finishing grad school a year ago, I haven't done a single workshop, and I think the absence is starting to make me second, triple, and quadruple guess myself; it's making me paranoid about whether or not I can actually write.
Time to go back to school.
