Thinking Out of the Bottle

Writers are supposed to be eccentric. Off-center; having a different way of looking at things. We are the people to whom others look for thinking that is "outside the box" and innovative. In general, we say things oddly, such as here referring to an idea as Out of the Bottle rather than the sterotypical "outside the box".

Yes, it confuses people, but often it's because we are saying more than just one simple thing. If an idea is Out of the Bottle, we might mean that it's outside the box, but have managed to say it without using the tired, cubicle-bound cliché. We also might mean that it's inspired, like a genie appearing deus ex machina from a lovely blue glass antique decanter to grant our wishes.


How could you mean two things at once? Speak plainly, say the plebeian masses! To which we roll our eyes, pained at the rejection of our double entendre, but with no intention of giving it up. We have loosed our wit upon the world, and are also obliquely referring to the tritely ubiquitous cat that has managed to escape the proverbial bag, not to be returned. No one heeds the warning.

Of course, writers are often drunks. Tell someone they seem as sober as Hemingway and if they read they'll probably realize you're being sarcastic.  Read through Frankenstein and play spot-the-laudanum, the scenes where Shelley had indulged in just a tad too much opium-laced wine; if you're paying attention, you'll see the passages where she wanders off for pages on the descriptions of snow on the mountainside, before coming back to Earth and to the story.

Thinking out of the bottle might mean getting your inspiration from your buddies Jim Beam and Jack Daniels, but it also might mean climbing out of their aromatic embrace long enough to think clearly. Sometimes the liquid muse needs to step aside for some editing.

For many writers, though, the high isn't even the alcohol. It's the power trip. We are the genie, cooped inside our own heads until someone rubs the book and out we spring to spin forth worlds. We have to be both villain and victim as well as hero, and must try to make the reader do the same. We are trapped in these stories until we can think our way out of the bottle ourselves.

Come with me. Pick up a good book, batten down the hatches and let's head for deep water and high adventure. This ship is as big as your imagination, and doesn't belong stuck on the shelf in a bottle.

Critical Mass

I asked the internet what I should blog about. My dear friend @DeniseJTompkins (for whom I will be buying dinner soon) tweeted:

Talk to me about the critique process. What you look for, what you think an opening needs, where you see writers lacking. :)

As if I would know.

I can do 2k words a day, at least for dedicated sprints like NaNoWriMo.

I can hold to a plot line, and get through with conflict, and dramatic moments, and an ending that means something.

I can generate setting and incorporate worldbuilding into the writing without too much data dump.

I'm pretty good at these tools of the trade, but no one's perfect. I'm not even close. Thank goodness for edits and rewrites.

But even then, there's always the Egocentric Predicament. There are always distractions. There are always games to me played, tweets to be posted, and some family time before ANY of that. I miss things.

As I go through my WIP now, practically done at 85k words, the story is vastly improved from the first rough 50k draft from nanowrimo. The characters are more believable, the setting more gritty, the plot moves more sharply, and the themes are more acute. It's starting to feel like a book. So...

Time for feedback. I get my wife to read it when she can. She's an almost perfect critique partner, but she has other work to do. She's polishing her own book, and has agreed to critique a couple of other authors. We both try to do critiques on Litopia.com and Critters.org, so I can't expect tons of feedback on a daily basis. We've also already experienced re-reader fatigue - when you've read and re-read the edits until they all blur together and you can no longer tell what's in the story and what isn't.

We could turn to friends and family, but we know better than to tap that source too early. Wait till the last possible minute, get it as clean as you can before emptying that piggybank, because if you can find anyone who will read for you, they'll probably only do it once. Don't expect hard, honest, brutal feedback, either. What you really need is the last thing most people want to tell you.

Of course, we also try to post our own work to Critters and Litopia. Critters is good, but getting crits is based on giving them, and people often grind through their minimum to pay their dues. Some people give beautiful input, and they are complete strangers, so they will be brutal, but they also sometimes have no idea what they're talking about. Litopia takes a lot of time to put in your dues to get to the houses, so there really aren't that many people on them doing the critiques. Again, fatigue can set in, and you don't get repeated feedback on a developing work unless you get somebody hooked.

Many aspiring writers turn to critique groups, but so few of these are worthwhile. I had the pleasure to meet Denise in one, but others end up as venues for people pimping their business, or just looking for mutual intellectual masturbation, or sometimes with earnest good intentions but no useful input.

I recommend you try all the above, but don't expect to hit paydirt soon. Like so much else in this field, you have to pay your dues and put in the time before you are likely to get lucky enough to find a valuable partner. If/when you do, hold on to them. Make sure you keep them happy. Give more than you expect to get.

Denise asks "What you look for, what you think an opening needs, where you see writers lacking".

I look for anything that makes me remember I'm reading a book. Spelling and punctuation and grammar must be nearly perfect to remain invisible. Deviations should be obviously intentional and nonintrusive. What I look for is what I hope my own crit partners will ferret out.

Please, point out my fumble-fingers and duh- moments. Highlight the words I use too often. Tell me if the dialogue seems stilted. After those, watch for logical gaffes, like the character driving a car he buys three chapters later.

Then help me eradicate loose ends and dud threads. A book shouldn't be a one trick pony, but subplots that don't deliver are just tumors that should be excised. Foreshadowning and hints left unresolved are either hooks for the next book, or open sores that should never have been cut.

Stories have themes. Help me find it, build it, sharpen it, and seed it throughout.

I like an opening that isn't too busy. Don't drop me in the middle of a firefight and expect me to care who wins. Give me some characterization, a reason to choose a side beside the POV of the protagonist. Honestly, as much as it seems taboo, I don't mind the character waking up at the start, or even having a dream, though I know agents tend to hate it because they see so much of it. Just make it relevant and interesting. Give me a reason to care. I do want conflict, but I'd so much rather see an internal conflict that exposes the person to me.

What I really see writers lacking more than anything else these days is confidence. Be fluent in your language. Be secure in your world. Be bold in your language! As Stephen King said in On Writing, tell the truth. If a character would say fuck, then as much as I may detest the casual use of the word in writing, use it! If he would not, then be true to the character. Some people really do say darn.

So if you're reading this, I assume you have at least a passing interest in writing or publishing or someone who does. If so, consider donating some time for a free read, and the bragging rights to be able to say "I knew that story when it was just a ragged draft, knee high to a novella." Offer a friend a critique on their work in progress, and if you write as well, let them know, maybe they'll return the favor.