Help Me! (Please? Writing is Hard)

I ran smack into a wall today. One that I never have before.

I don’t know what to call my character.

Naming has never been a problem for me. Titling, sure, but that’s an editing thing. Most times I stick a random phrase out of the work on the Word document and call it a day. Sometime towards the end a good title will come to me. Or heck, maybe the thing I pulled out at the beginning ends up getting edited out of the work and now the title’s perfect. But naming characters? Usually I get that within the first few pages.

In this story, though, I gave my character her name very early on (Leslie–this novel began a very, very long time ago as an almost completely different type of book). But its a superhero novel, and so she has two names. And since its also an origin story, I didn’t have to deal with the issue of The Official Superhero Title until, let’s see…113 pages in.

Now I do have to pick out a superhero name for her. I’ve tried. I have. But I read a lot of comics, people, and the sad fact is that Marvel and DC have already taken most of the good (and a hefty chunk of the bad) superhero names. Especially since she’s not an alien. It’s waaayyy easier to name an alien. All you have to do is stick “Girl” or “Lass” onto the end of whatever species they are.

The point of this rambling is that I need suggestions. Maybe I’m too deep into this project, or maybe superhero names just suck, but I ain’t getting anywhere on my own. So here’s a short little bio, and if you’ve got any suggestions I NEED THEM WORSE THAN CAFFEINE.

Name: Leslie North

Age: 16 or 17-ish

Powers: Telekinesis, which includes flight and very limited personal forcefields. She can’t use her powers on any sort of liquid or gas (she’s hampered by the number of particles. Same reason she can only manipulate a limited number of things at a time–so each water molecule, for example, is one thing. It stretches her concentration too far to do more than 5). These powers have a physical toll. If she overreaches its like exercise exhaustion–extreme migraines, dehydration, muscle pain. It also jacks up her metabolism, burning insane amounts of energy.

Costume: Navy, dark blue, black, and silver. Sort of a military aesthetic, but only because that’s what was in her closet. Superheroics on a budget.

Bio: She’s pretty smart (though not much more than average), but more awkward (partly from hiding the whole “secret abilities” thing, but also naturally). She wants to go to culinary school, and not for pastries. Mostly she’s kind of stuck in neutral for high school, though she did just get a (equally nerdy) boyfriend (maybe. There’s still some question as to whether they’re on the same page, relationship-wise). The only reason she’s in the superheroics business is because she inadvertently got found out by the volleyball team’s second-in-command, who decided this would be a great chance to practice PR skills.

Suggestions for a superhero name? Pretty, pretty please?

The Last Book

I have in my hands right now the last book in a trilogy that I’ve read over the past few months and absolutely loved. I waited maybe thirty seconds between finishing Book 2 and putting Book 3 on hold. Yet I got the book from the library a week ago and haven’t cracked it open, because I can’t bear to.

I really, really want to read this book. But if I don’t open it, it remains a paper-and-ink Schrodinger’s cat. Once I consume it, the series is done. Which is utterly ridiculous, I know. But no one eve said I was a logical person.

Honestly, I do this with a lot of stuff. If I think a movie is going to suck, I’ll sit right down and watch it. But if I think it’s going to be good, I’ll hem and haw and eventually get around to watching it on my laptop at eleven at night. Take Batman: Year One for example. It’s my all-time favorite comic ever and when it came out as a movie I went out and bought it. Way back in December. And still haven’t watched it. It’s not like I’m scared that it will ruin the book–I’ve heard that the movie’s good–but I have to work up my anticipation for it so that the excitement outweighs the sadness of it being over.

I got a movie for Easter (Justice League: Doom because of course half of any post I write has to deal with nerdiness) and only got to watching it two nights ago. It was awesome, of course–go watch it, all you secret comic lovers–but I talked myself into watching it only because I had a pile of Statistics homework to do and I figured I could use some motivation.

But I’m going to break myself of this. I swear. I’m going to sit down right now and read this book.

Maybe.

Steampunk, Cowboys, Vampires, and Nobel Laureates (Oh My!)

Totally gonna be my new cosplay costume

It’s been awhile since I’ve talked about what I’m reading on this supposedly book-based blog. So that’s what we’re doing today!

Mostly, I haven’t been talking about books because up until a week or two ago I wasn’t reading books. Anyone who’s ever found themselves smack-up against the end of a school year knows that its downright crazy to try to do anything but desperately try to keep up.

But last week things slowed down and so I got  a chance to dive back into my lovely, lovely words. I started out with The Best Science Fiction and Fantasy of the Year, Vol. 5 and edited by Jonathan Strahan. This was a great book. Sometimes these year’s best anthologies are a mixed bag, but I raced through this one. Libba Bray’s “The Last Ride of the Glory Girls” was an absolutely fabulous sci-fi Western (don’t ask me to compare it to Firefly–I haven’t gotten to watching that yet. I know. I’m sorry) and the first of her short stories I’ve encountered. The book starts out, interestingly enough, with two stories about bees, both of which are gorgeously written. And the first has both Sherlock Holmes AND Neil Gaiman, so really what could have gone wrong? There was a definite magical realism-trend this year, which was a nice switch from the hard sci-fi that’s dominated for awhile.

See? There's an automaton on the cover!

And speaking of soft sci-fi, I also finished The Falling Machine by Andrew Mayer. Its a mash-up of two of my favorite things–steampunk and superheroes–and was a fantastic popcorn adventure book. Better yet, it’s the first in a trilogy (aka The Society of Steam) and the second book is already out. It was a lot of fun to read and I’ve got the next one on hold at the library.

I also went to a library a few towns over and got a two-foot-tall stack of graphic novels (no, really) which means that I caught up on some series I have sadly fallen behind on. Namely, I read the rest of Astro City, actually started the first two volumes of American Vampire and was super impressed by the lack of Twilight-ness and splattering of gore, and I found The Legion of Super-Heroes: Teenage Revolution, which is the first six issues of the “Threeboot” Legion continuity (if you’re not a nerd, don’t ask) but more importantly was written by Mark Waid. And I have never met a Mark Waid-written comic that I didn’t like. So as they say in California, I was like totally psyched.

Finally, I got Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia-Marquez from the library, because I need to maintain my reputation as a high intellectual (ha). Also, I decided that I’m going to read all of Garcia-Marquez’s (major) works. I mean, I love the guy. But so far I’ve only finished One Hundred Years of Solitude, Chronicle of a Death Foretold, Memories of My Melancholy Whores, and a smattering of short stories. But there’s dozens of other works. I’d resisted Love for awhile because it was for one an Oprah Book Club pick (ugh) and not magical realism, which are the works of Garcia-Marquez’s that I like best. But now that I’m into it I like it. Over the next couple months I want to read the other major works, like Autumn of the Patriarch and The General in his Labyrinth. Maybe also his nonfiction work, News of a Kidnapping.

In summation: Go read some books! (and comics. They deserve more love)

My DIY Bucket List

I’ve always wanted to be a crafty person. My mother is a scrapbooker, which always seemed a tad crazy and detail-oriented for me, but I’ve tried many other things over the years. Knitting (all I can do is scarves), building dioramas of fictional buildings (don’t ask–I am an obsessive nerd), and taking art classes that I only have middling talent with.

Maybe I’ve been watching too much Downton Abbey, but these little domestic urges keep clawing at me. Like quilting. I don’t know what is so damned attractive to me about spending months piecing together a blanket, but it’s something I’ve really wanted to try. In middle school I tried to take a class at Joann’s for kids’ quilting, but apparently me and the friend I’d roped into it were the only people to sign up.

This is the definition of badass

And sewing my own clothes. Perhaps this is my inner Manic Pixie Dream Girl showing, but I think that would be awesome. I have a seriously hard time shopping, and I would love to make myself a cute little vintage-cut dress so I don’t keep buying cardigans. Because seriously, when acquaintances start commenting on the number of cardigans you own you know you’ve got too many.

Or THIS!

Who wouldn’t want a penny countertop? It’s awesome! Totally going on my list.

I know that writing is supposed to be my creative endeavor, but sometimes I’m just seized by the need to get down-n-dirty and get glue all over my hands. I want to make a collage (like this chick’s. Sheesh) or knit arm warmers. I just want to do something. Unfortunately, I need a skill first.

Anyone else suffer from creation-itis?

A Little Writing Update and Campus!

Because ostensibly that’s what this blog is suppose to be about (not library etiquette, the relative impropriety of discussing bodily fluid, or why Christopher Priest is an awesome author, but also sort of a jerk).

My writing has actually been going quite spectacularly lately. I’m quickly approaching 100 days of writing daily. I started a new short story that just instantly struck me as right, which is miraculous because usually I get the character right but have to fiddle with the plot. And Project Leslie is going swimmingly (I will bring back that adjective, dammit).

I’ve also been working on editing skills, albeit not entirely willingly. It’s workshop time in Intro to Creative Writing class. Some people are quite good, but because its a 200-level class (and also satisfies a gen-ed credit) there are also people who don’t know to do things like start a new paragraph when there’s a new speaker.

In part, I think this is a symptom of the American education system not holding English in the same standard that it does math and writing. And in part I think its because people assume that their ability to string words together into coherent sentences means they can be capital-W Writers. Or maybe I’m just cranky.

I did my highest number of words ever this weekend–3060 in one day. Most of it was fanfic, though, but hey, I was drugged (long story). My main fear is that I’m slowly slipping into the black hole of not making much progress on any one project. I think I really have to buckle down and say no more starting things until at least the short story is written. I don’t want to be a hypocrite–I did after all rail against those writers who never finish things.

On a side note, I just found Britain’s answer to Community, aptly titled Campus. It only ran for 7 episodes but its random and hilarious, and if you like the craziness of this latest season of Community you definitely should check it out. All the episodes are available for free on Hulu (though like most oddly overly-mature rated British comedies, you do have to say you’re 17).

Stupid Literary Fiction

I know how she feels.

The following is a conversation I had with my mother about In Zanesville, a literary fiction novel by Jo Ann Beard that I quite enjoyed.

MOM: What’s that book about?

ME: Two girls growing up in the 1970′s. I really liked it.

MOM: Oh, what do they do?

ME: Well…lots of things. They get in a fight and the one’s dad is depressed and they basically just grow up.

MOM: So in the end they make up again?

ME: Well sort of.

MOM: So what problem do they have to solve? What’s the plot? Does the dad get better?

ME: Um…no, he doesn’t, and the plot is just them growing up. That’s it.

MOM: Um…right…you go with that.

This is what you do to me, literary fiction. Could you please create one book that doesn’t sound crazy to describe? As anyone who tries to sum up One Hundred Years of Solitude knows, eventually all you’re doing is babbling.

And while we’re at it, dear Lit-Fic, would it kill you to give me an ending once in awhile? Yes, I know that In Zanesville had one, but what about the three I read before it that just broke off. Call me uncultured all you want, but I enjoy an emotional climax and conclusion, thank you very much.

I believe in books’ ability to be meaningful and beautiful. Despite science fiction being my favorite genre, most of the books that have stuck with me have been literary fiction. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. One Hundred Years of Solitude. The Age of Innocence. The list goes on and on.

And you know what? None of these books needed overmuch ambiguity or a “make-you-think” ending to pull me in. Yes, they made me think, but it wasn’t a trick. It didn’t made me angry. They didn’t need three different points of view and inverted typography to be inventive and meaningful.

I want my good books.

When Are You Allowed to Give Up?

So I have this novel. It was my first “real” project, and I started it–holy crap–four years ago. The first draft was finished within a year, and boy was I terrible back then. Ever since I’ve been flirting back and forth with it ever since. Editing, rewriting bits, and finally starting over.

I love the characters of Project Carson. But I feel tired of it. I’m at the part that excited me in the first go-about but now it doesn’t interest me.

This could be the middles. But I’m beginning to have the sneaking suspicion that it isn’t. It’s been four years, in which I’ve gone from being a teenager fooling around to a semi-adult with a serious idea of what and how to write. Part of me feels that this novel is a project from when I was a fumbling plotist with cliched, angsty characters. This same part keeps pointing out all the new ideas I have and whispering “Look! See what you can do with that? This novel was important to you, but now it’s time to put it away.”

Then there’s the part of me that looks at Project Carson and feels guilty. It’s like my little puppy. I know the characters need work, and the plot has some flaws…but I’ve spent so much time on it! But I love the characters! But I’m allllmmoostt at the good part. Remember that part?

So I guess my point with this post is to say that I just don’t know. I look at the projects I want to do and my mouth waters, but I also feel like I owe Project Carson a decent finish. I know that writing anything helps you grow, but I can’t help thinking that shelving this project is wasted time.

I’ve got some thinking to do.

Porn at the Library!

The actual man had more chest hair and a mustache.

Sometimes, I love working at the library. Sometime sit makes me want to pull my hair out. And sometimes, I have to run to the break room so that I don’t laugh in a patron’s face.

A normal-looking older man came in during my shift and set himself up at one of our workstations. Now, we do have private study rooms, so if he’d wanted some *ahem* alone time he very well could have found a place out of the public eye.

When he took out not one but two laptops, I should have been tipped off. But when one of your regulars is a 500-lb Chinese man who comes in just to sleep in the magazine section, you get acclimated to “weird” pretty quickly.

So he sits down, opens and plugs in both laptops, pulls up a spreadsheet on one, and scantily-clad obese ladies on the other.

Yes. You read that last sentence correctly.

Now imagine them naked

Now, I tend to be from the “whatever floats your boat, so long as it’s consensual” school of thought. But seriously, you can’t wait until you’re out of the public library?

I was kind of surprised when he didn’t go check out Erotic Stories for the Connoisseur, which yes we do indeed own.

Reading Watchmen in the Bath (Ruminating on Prequels)

There are few things I enjoy more in this world than a good ‘ol bloody comic with some lavender bubble bath.

I am rereading Watchmen because I am still on the fence about DC’s latest money-making-PR-fiasco, Before Watchmen.

For those of you out of the geeky little comics loop, DC Comics is writing a prequel to the bestselling Watchmen. If you don’t know what Watchmen is, then please hold still so I can punch you.

There isn’t a lot known about the prequel series other than that it will be one-shots about various characters, some of the writers on the project, and Alan Moore absolutely hates the entire idea of it.

Now before I go annoying the entire fan community, let me say this: I love Alan Moore. I laughed out loud at Supreme, devoured Watchmen and V for Vendetta and even though I still am at odds with it I was fascinated by Promethea.

But here’s the thing: Alan Moore does not own Watchmen, and after abandoning comics and his creations he doesn’t have leave to act all angry anytime DC does what any company would do and try to make a dime (frankly, I can’t believe they waited this long).

I don’t mean this in a legal sense, or a moral sense. I am all for creators’ rights and giving respect where it’s due. I believe all writers should have some measure of control over there creation. However, I believe in stories more.

Watchmen is a universe. The book was not the beginning or the ending but simply a middle slice of this world. If Bob Kane had acted like Alan Moore, would we even have DC Comics? No. Good stories are built by people sharing together. Yeah, there’ll be some crappy ones too, but the point is that the world will flourish.

I hate those authors (*cough* Anne Rice *cough*) who rail against fanfiction, as if it’s some sort of horror that people love your writing enough to want to add to it. And frankly, for all of Alan Moore’s talk of artistic purity he hasn’t made any compromises himself, nor has he done anything in the genre for at least a decade. Comics are by nature a medium meant to be shared.

Do I wish that this was a Minutemen-focused series and not seven one-shots of the characters we already know? Yes. But you know what? The eighties are over. Moore isn’t writing anymore. Yes, DC’s been dickish, but so has he, and everyone needs to take a break and realize that no matter how good it is, it’s a comic. If Before Watchmen sucks it’ll be forgotten in 50-cent bins before the end of the year. If it rocks, we’ll all be better off. Its time for someone else to get a chance to play in the sandbox.

An interesting experiment, not a mortal sin.

I am Going to Have Serious Problems This Summer

1135 words today! Back into the thousands.

******************

It is going to be a very awkward summer.

You see, this winter I started driving a lot more for a lot longer at a time. And so I started listening to my iPod while driving. And today I realized that I have the constant, unconscious habit of singing along in the car.

And not quietly, either.

So I’m going to be the weird girl who sings in the car but now everyone is going to know it because the windows will be rolled down. Terrific.

At least Community is supposed to be coming back in the summer. I freaking love that show.

I can’t wait.

Also–it occurs to me that this is supposedly a writing blog and I haven’d posted about writing in quite a while. That will have to be rectified.

Go write (there, see? rectified).