Dreaming of a writing Christmas

As many peopel across the country are dig out of the snow, wait on santa, eat Christmas dinner, I have spent the day preparing for a trip to New Orleans and scolding myself for not doing my blog or writing enough this last week.  I hear my negative self talk shouting in my head, and other people's negative self talk filling the room.  So what should I do? Give up, end this years goals before the year even starts.

Nope not this time.

Instead I pulled out my phone and began typing.  Just to get a blog started. But really because all I wanted for Christmas was to write, and no one was stopping me from writing.  Unless I look in the mirror.  So like a two year old, I put metaphorical fingers in my ears and go nananana to drown out all the noise around me, and type. But type what? This blog but what else. Letting my mind drift...

Snow, Christmas, travel: all bring to mind an old Christmas movie" I Have Been Dreaming of A White Christmas", used to watch with my mom and grandma; before they passed.  I quite the noise around me shutting the world off and let my mind drift to old movies and love stories, dancing and singing. I begin my story...

She  stands, sad, lonely looking into the restaurant's window at people eating fancy dinners in fancier clothes. The wind bites through the thin fabric of her coat reminding her winter is here. She can almost taste the burgundy sauce, and prime rib, potatoes, carrots; the smell of bread makes her salivate, turning she walks into the city away from a life no longer hers and back into her new reality.

Reality the ever shifting landscape around her,  a mirage she is never fully equipped to handle this is her new life, the old one died on an untended vine. Waundering, wondering and willfully she lingers for a heart beat between her past, present and future of possibilities then steps into traffic. Cars whiz by someone honks, no one stops. She emerges from the traffic she on the other side of street and the veil. 

The city gone, a seaside town stands in its stead the roar of a storm approaching makes her shiver even as the temperature rises around her.

The loss of love ones lingers on her, a stench of death a cloud that follows her even as she runs across her multitude of worlds.  Never staying, always hoping one day to find him again.

So an impromptu section of The Veil a story i had considered shelving for good.  Maybe it still has potential?

Writing prompts the how, why and what of them

Currently, I am looking for new was to revive the creativity in my life and writing. I have looked around for ideas and ways to ignite the writing process. One technique frequently put out into the ether is the writing prompt.  There are a number of sites that provide writing prompts.  But do they really work.  Well that depends, on what you mean by work. 

Yes, a writing prompt can get you to start writing.  It can even help you to put words on paper.  It can be a start.  Maybe even an end. Is this all a writing prompt is good for?  I don't think so.  A writing prompt can also show you the primary archetypes of story telling, and allow you to explore these archetypes in short burst writing sessions.  Writing prompts can lead to brainstorming on ideas and characters that come from the prompt or are in your other writing.  Sometimes I use a prompt to move along or explore one of my current characters,  this allows me to take the character out of the larger story and create back story, or other information, create and explore personality traits that flush out the character.  These are some of the ways I use writing prompts that work.

I have also used writing prompts and failed.  This does not mean the prompt was bad,  though it may have been, it means that I did not explore the prompt in a manner that pushes me within my craft.  Writing prompts can be a useful tool to further explore the craft and art of writing, or they can be dead ends that lead to words on pages and nothing more.  Some may say words on paper in of itself is a success, I for one do not believe this to be true.  Thus this is the manner in which writing prompts do not work, in my opinion.

I personally have found that canned writing prompts are not very helpful in exploring certain aspects of my writing and craft.  This is why I have taken to creating my own writing prompts.   You may ask how and why I would do this.  First by creating your own prompt it can be targeted to your specific interests.  Second, the process of creating a prompt takes brainstorming and creativity which primes the creative writing processes.  So how do I create my own writing prompts. The easiest way is to take an image, normally a picture I have taken, or something I have drawn and write a story to explain, lead up to, or tell where the characters are going.  This leads to creative stories it also can be therapeutic. If you focus on images and stories that revolve around and then solve problems in your life. 

Winter is coming to NYC

November has come to an end and the holidays are just beginning and with it a new year. 

For me it is time to start putting in place a life balance plan, which I have attempted to do in the past.  I like many writers have numerous responsibilities: family, work, volunteering, writing and life. 

Each year I try and find a way to balance these and other responsibilities but inevitably somethings do not get as much attention and time as they need or I would like to give. Normally, my writing is the first on the chopping block. Until last year,  when writing became a second source of income. But then the writing I was doing was more for profit then to tell my stories.

Now that I write on a daily basis, be it a legal memorandum, copy for a project or some other paid work; i need to add in writing my books, short stories, and bloggs.

So I'm putting into place a creative writing schdule. 
Sundays will be the day I do my blogg post.  I'm hoping to cover a variety of topics, from why i write and writing process, to samples or drafts of my work. I also might  be posting on what is informing my writing such a current events or about the research, and maybe even a how too.

Monday will be a day that I set a side 2.to3 hour for creative writing.  This will be on my novel, one of my short stories or just what ever comes to mind.

Then Wednesday will be the day i do editing for my creative writing.

I think this will give me a good schdule for my creative writing without being to overwhelming.

Now that you've seen my plan for the year.  What is yours? Post in the comments how you plan to keep writing a part of your daily life.

p.s.  i also want to start journaling which will be a new endeavor all together.

I imagine, dream, believe of new worlds

As a writer I frequently find myself imagining, dreaming and believing in  other worlds, having conversations with people that do not exist about various mundane topics such as what color the sky is and why; or how their government does or does not work.  Really this is my mind searching for answers to the problems of the world around me, be it high levels of unemployment, under employment, falling literacy rates, or the increased cost of education. The perverse way the constitution is used or not used and abused.

With each novel, story short or long; I am attempting to create worlds were our problems have  come to a head or better full circle.  The issue is the answers are never truly satisfying. And hence the next story and world is created.

I wonder am I the only author that tries to solve and sometimes explore our own problems?

Maybe you write for some other reason. If so, what are your reasons for writing? 

Coffee House

As a writer Coffee houses are one of the places I frequent,  for a number of reasons.  Mostly I'm looking for caffeine and a break from writing on my couch.  Well antics at coffee houses can get out of hand especially when you have a number of creative overly caffeinated people striving to escape boredom... What you get is a mini movie of Coffee Houses gone bad.

To ISBN or not to ISBN

You have a finshed book, be it a novel, a novella, a compilation of shorties, or maybe it's a cookbook; and now you want to self publish.  You read through each websites requirements, or should I say skim then you come to the question about ISBN.  Scratching your head you decide to Google it but this leads to more confusion. 

This blog is going to give you answer in what an ISBN is, and the different types. The legal ramifications of how you choose to get your ISBN. And how to avoid these ramifications. 

Blogging by train

So I have been busier than I thought I would be working and writing in New York.  My blogg has suffered because of time.  Tonight sitting here on the train surfing facebook i may have found my time. I have gotten less done on the train than I excepted. now is the time to remedy both issues.

So here is my new plan.  I'll spend my time on the train between Brooklyn and Glen cove blogging, by using the app on my phone.  So excuse typos and auto correct as I get this process down.  The plan will be to research and then post all blogs from my phone. 

To make this even more interesting, I'm going to start a series of blogs concerning the legal side of writing, from what are ISBNs to how to split copywrite.  If you have a question about writing and the law post it and I'll see about writing a blog to answer your questions.

On otherhand my writing is going well this fish has found a couple of great ponds and looking to expand. I've joined two great writing groups and one writer's workshop. I've meet some great peeps in the Big Apple.

So here is to train blogging and new adventures.

Sam A. Fix

The good, bad and ugly of getting paid to write

For the last two months I have been focusing on commercial writing. i.e writing for money and not art or fun.  What I found is that commercial writing can be a distraction.  It can be lucrative but you can also loose money.  Over the last two months I have tested out three different websites that allow authors to write for money.

Lets start with the money aspect.  The most I made from any project was $123.00 for a 7000 word e-book that I ghostwrote.  The least I was paid was $1.01 for a 150 description of a Halloween costume, though I did 10 of them so the total earnings form 1500 was $10.10.  On average I earned $4.65 for 500 words. 

Now what will you be writing.  Well I did everything from writing reviews of products to product descriptions.  I also did a good bit of ghostwriting, which entailed writing a couple of erotica novels, an e-book for a bible group, and one on running.

So there is good about getting paid to write.  You can actually get paid to write.  But for the most part what you are paid is below minimum wage when you look at the hourly rate.  However,  I think this could change if you get a steady stream of clients that are willing to pay.  The best chance for this actually happening is on the elance site. 

Now the bad is the website.  I could have just had over all poor luck in which sites I chose for this adventure.  So take this review like sand in your shoes, sometimes it's not that bad.  I tried out three sites.  Scripted, Iwriter and elance with varying degrees of success, failure and hassle.

 

scripted.com

Scripted was by far the worse of the three sites.  I say this because of there utter lack of customer service and the initial process which I never got past.  First signing up and creating an account is easy.  Then you have to select an Industry.  Once you have selected an industry you fill out an application which includes a writing assignment concerning the subject, and you also need to submit a writing sample.  Here is where it all fell apart for me on scripted.  I selected two industries filled out the applications.  Then I received a response back that the sample was too long.  I shortened the sample, then got an e-mail that the sample was irrelevant.  Mind you there were not instructions on what you should submit as a sample.  So I chose a different sample and once again got the response that it was too long.   I rewrote the sample to shorten it to less than 500 words and resubmitted.  I then waited more than 10 days for a response.  Mind you the other industry I applied for never responded to me at all.  I e-mailed customer service to see if I could get the application reviewed.  Then sent me a response that the sample was to long  ie 500 words was too long.  But because they had not sent it back to me I was unable to change the sample.  After two weeks of trying to get the sample accepted I gave up.  Today I logon to the account for the first time in a month and both industries show they have been reject.  However, I was never told they were rejected, given the opportunity to fix any thing besides the sample being to long or irrelevant on the one industry, and I never heard any response to the other.  So I never earn any money from the site, and I spent a number of hours trying to get this site to work to no prevail. 

iwriter.com 

Iwriter was the next site that I tried and the one I earned the most money on.  It is also the site that caused me the most problems and I had a number of articles stolen by requesters.  Once I pointed this out on the requesters review and to the site my account was locked down and I am still working to try and get my last payment for a number of articles.   

Starting off on iwriter can be time consuming you have to writer 28 articles at a 4.1 star review or higher in order to move to the premium level.  You want to be a premium writer for two reasons: more articles and more money.  However the system is set against the writer in this endeavor.  requesters that only want to pay the standard rate are basically encouraged to give lower ranking to keep writers at the standard level.  This is not to say all requesters do this but enough do that it effects your ability to quickly get to the higher level.  For example, a requester can give a 1 star rating with no reason. Yet they can still buy article.  To make this clear requesters are not required to buy any article. So if  they hate the writing enough to give it a one star; why would you pay for the article. 

Once you getting going on iwriter you  can fill a lot of time and earn good money over the last six weeks my iwriter money has been my spending money.  Since moving to New York and quitting my job it took stress off the budget.  The big thing to know about iwriter is the website could give to shakes about it's writers.  I had a number of technical difficulties on the site from full articles vanishing.  Then there is the contradictory messaging.  First the tell you to write in their dialogue box to prevent submission problems, then tell you to write somewhere else to avoid losing articles.  I can only assume that they want you to type up your article in word and then retype it into the box.  This would be a time consuming step that would limit the profitability of the style writing.  The other items that clearly shows that they unconcern with the writer is the dialogue box.  This is a simple plain text box,  with NO formatting options.  If you do cut and paste formatted text into the box it will retain the formatting but the box itself doesn't even have a save feature.  Finally, the fact that I was unable to submit an article was only resolved when the requester got involved on my behalf. 

The final thing that turned me off on iwriter is what happened this week.  I wrote three articles for the same requester.  He then gave me one star reviews and declined the articles after saying they weren't what he asked for.  Yes,  this would have just been a pain but then I found out he was using the articles or very similar articles on his website.  I brought this to the attention of iwriter and asked for them to remove the one star reviews.  I didn't ask them to pay me, simple to remove the reviews.  The next day my account was blocked.  At the time I had a large ebook project pending,  two request from requesters waiting for my attention and $25 of writing (not including the 25$ in stolen work) waiting to be paid out.  I emailed Iwriter a number of time requesting my account be unlocked so I could finish pending project at least,  to at least letting me tell my clients that I could not finish the project they requester.  Nothing it was like midnight on a long highway.  They have not responded to any e-mail since locking my account.  Not even with an explanation as to why the account was locked in the first place. 

I briefly considered opening a new account and contacting my requestors but have decided that once burnt, twice shy.  So I lost a weeks worth of work and a couple hundred dollars once everything had been completed and paid.  If you choose to use iwriter.  I would suggest,  setting up funds transfers as frequently as possible to limit losses if the choose to lock your account.  I would also get contact information for all clients off the site incase they lock you out you can contact your clients.  Finally, only writer for users that have a  70% or higher acceptance rate.  Other than that, Enter Iwriter at your own risk.

Elance

 

Elance was the final site I joined in my pursuit of earning money as a writer.  This site for me has the best potential but also needs the most time commitment.  Creating an Elance Profile is slightly tedious but considering it is your resume, portfolio, and contact page it's no wonder.  One thing I will note is that you should take time and set up this page it makes a difference.  I started with little to nothing on the page and later added everything and had much better results.   Next the process of getting work is more complicated and time consuming.  However,  this does allow for writer and requester to have a dialogue and back out at anytime before the project is started.  When applying for jobs,  you need to think of it as a job interview and sell you and your writing.  You also need to be willing to negotiate  and provide additional information.  So the hiring process does take more time.  But then you can set date for project completion,  and end date to give your self enough time to finish projects.  Finally the rate of pay is set by you and the requestor and agreed upon before you start and then held in an escrow account until the project. 

 

Elance has an interesting foundation but it will be going through a large change this year as it merges with Upworthy another online freelancing website.  Additionally, Elance is more of a free for all elancing website.  Meaning you will find a lot of other jobs on the site that have nothing to do with writing.  This can be a good thing if you have web design, or html or other types of create experience or talents.   

 

In conclusion, though I earned the most from iwriter it also left an awful taste in my mouth.  Additionally for all the writing I did over the last six weeks,  none of it was my writing.  Meaning it didn't move along my novels, novellas, or short stories. Additionally, it took away time I would have spent on other sites; liked Inked voice my writing group website.  As my time whittled away by life, work, and moving across country, I wrote more but less for me.

 

Writing for money was a good experience.  I will continue looking for ways to be a paid writer.   I will continue working on Elance, and take a look at other online websites, and move to pushing my books to all retail outlets.  

   

I wonder if I might end up making it as a writer in new York instead of a lawyer.  Funny how the world works. 

 

New York and Writing Madly

One week in New York City.  I can't believe I have been here a week already.  Time seems to be on fast forward.  I'm someone that tends to get more done in a day than most people but lately I seem to finish each day with more to do than I started with.   Funny I came to New York to practice law but find that I'm writing more than ever before.

Since arriving in New York, I have spent hours walking around the city.  I have talked to numerous people, attend a networking event and interviews all focused on practice law.  Strange that each event lead to me have more writing projects. 

This week I have agreed to write a 7000 word book for a bible study group.  Started 10,000 world e-book for a running website on frequent running injuries, that covers treatment and prevention.  I have written 8 commercial articles ranging from what type of dog food should you give your puppy to a press release for a new motorcycle.  Additionally, I have started another short story,  about love, life and loss.  The thing that makes me smile is once I have finished each of these project the total of what I earn will cover the cost of my stay at The Local NYC. 

However, the thing I think is the most interesting is my renewed passion for writing.  I have been writing everyday even on days I spend hours wandering the city.  I have even signed up for a couple of writing groups in New York and will be attending a publishing workshop tomorrow evening. 

So I moved to New York to focus on law only to find myself becoming even more of a writer than before.  

And to give you an expert of my love story (psst Jaquelle this one's for you)

This year has been anything but happy, or sad, or boring it was life as life is meant to be, hard, fast and heart breakingly funny.  Love is like that it comes at you from everywhere and nowhere.  But I’m getting ahead of myself.  Where should I begin, at the end, the beginning; no I’ll start where my heart started in the middle. 

I first saw her in the fall. She walked into my world like a jumble of electricity searching for a place to go. She was funny, smart, and annoying but, I couldn’t get her sea-green eye out of my mind, for days after we first meet. She was my mad mermaid, with her long brown hair that floated down past her shoulders to her liquid movements that drew my eye.  She was a shock to my system.  Even her name was unique Jacquelle.  

***

I noticed her standing at the water’s edge, waves of the river brushing the girl’s toes that curled into the sand. She was a magnet that I couldn’t look away from. The girl spotted me staring in her direction.  “Hey… Ginger.  What are you staring at?” She asked her brows curling in. 

“Oh, Sorry.  I was surprised that anyone was down here.  Most people avoid the river.” 

“Ah, well, I always wanted to become a mutant.  So the river doesn’t scare me, never has.  What’s your name?”

Laughing I realized she must be a true Oregonian “I’m Gigi.  What’s your name?”

“Jacquelle.  But my friends call my Jac.  What are you doing down here?”

“Me nothing…taking a break?”

“Sounds like you are hiding.”  Jac says as she walks over and flops down on the blanket next to me.  I hear my sunglasses crack.  “Oops sorry.”

Taking the mangled glasses, “Oh, it no problem.  They’re just cheapies.  But I’m not hiding.  I just wanted to be by the water; it relaxes me.  I couldn’t get to the ocean.  The river is the next best thing.  What are you doing down here?”

“Oh me. Well, I was contemplating how hard it would be to swim to the other side.  That is where I left my bike.”  She leans back on the blanket stretching out. 

“I don’t think swimming across the river is safe. The central part has marine traffic you could get hit by a boat.  Also, the current at the center of the river is pretty rapid.”  

“I was just considering it.” Jac says sitting up. “It’s not like, I would actually swim across the river.  So what are you hiding from?”

“I said I wasn’t hiding.”

“Really! Thou dust protest too much.” Jac replies her sea-green eyes lighting up like a mischievous imp. 

“Ok…I’m hiding from my Ex, my job, and my life.”

“Well, that does sound stressful.  Why don’t you just  go home?  Unless you live with your ex.”

“No. But…my job is my home.  I manage the apartment complex I live in.  Currently, my ex is volunteering for one of my commercial tenants so he has access to the building.”

“Well, that certainly complicates things.  You should get a restraining order against him.”

“I know.”  Gigi responds with a sigh. 

“Well, I have to get my bike. Want to come with me?  It’s better than sitting here by yourself.”

“Yes, I would.  But let’s go over the Steel Bridge.  I don’t feel like swimming today.”

That’s how I met the love of my life....but as I said that is the middle of my love story. 

Three months one day makes a world of difference

Over the last three months,  my life has been turned upside down.  Today I am nolonger a resident of Portland, Oregon.  I have officially moved to New York and currently I'm staying in Queens.  The changes started the day I receive confirmation I passed the New York Bar.  For the first time I truly considered leaving Portland and making a life else where.  After a couple of weeks, the idea went for a thought to a plan. 

Though I let some of my writing slip by,  such as keeping up on my blog and checking in on my writing group, I didn't stop writing.  For the last 3 months I have been experimenting with using online writing websites to earn money with the goal of supporting myself through my writing.  I have tried three sites and currently work with two of them  and have been able to make about $75.00 a day from my writing.  Not quite enough to be my sole means of support but its getting closer by the day. 

In addition,  I have decided to take the steps needed to start really working in the legal field.  I have applied for a number of positions in New York Law Firms and a research position at the United Nations.  So today 3months and 1 day since my last post I have struck out on a new path but I have not abandoned my goal of a year of writing madly. 

Over the last three months,  I have finished my Novella Gutter Punk. Written the first draft of a short story call Analytical Inconsistences,  and worked on the Veil.  This was all my fiction writing.  For my commercial or paid projects I have written more than 30 articles each month at least one a day.  I have also ghost written a number of short stories around 9000 words each.  I'm steadily writing but I have not been very good at tracking how much I'm actually writing.  At this point I'm not even sure how to go about count the number of words I have written.  And though I don't know if I have written 50,000 words each of these months I do know that I have written almost every day.  

Since you have all been so patient with me here is the rough draft of my newest short story. With about 2 more edits and re-writes it might just be ready for me to submit for publication.  But one thing is for sure Writing is now more than just a hobby or a past time, it has become a part of my life.   I hope you enjoy. 

 

Analytical Inconsistencies

BY: Sam A. Fix

 

Lucy could still feel the fading of the bleeping green line, it had taken longer than she calculated for it to  stop, after the collision. She dropped the image of the street cameras now sure that Lewis and Fred were safe.  The police, fire department and ambulance companies were still extracting the driver from the wreckage of car's silver polycarbonate shell that seemed to be fused with the nanosteel of the buildings wall.

 Lucy could not wait for Lewis to arrive home. 

Three hours later.....

Lewis entered his room, the sterility of his clean work surfaces, crates filled with an erratic jumble--plastic bites, soldered metal that made up the innards of discarded electronic, and the luminescent caste off from screens, put him at ease.  Lewis was still shaking from almost dying today,  but accidents happen. He was just glad to be alive. Death was not a concept he has spent much time pondering, and  even less than the psychology of why men choose to do violence to themselves and against each others. 

Walking into his room,  he pulled out a bar-height roller chair of blue and black neoprene it conformed to his body as he sunk back. He picked up his carbonite gray goggles slipped them on and fell into his world--digital fragments, bite and byte, ones and zero. Lewis pressed his palm to the cold hard sleek scanner and the construct unfolded around him.  His tongue tingled with ozone, the space behind his eyes vibrated as he blinked his digital eyelids.

He smiled as he looked around Lucy's construct it grew more complex by the day. Currently he was standing in a replica of his kitchen,  walking through the doorway which should lead to the living room, but instead opened up to Lucy's bedroom.  The posters on the wall were collaged over with new photos of ballerinas, namely Winifred.  The room was filled with a desk, bed, chair and looked like any other teenage girls room.

Lucy rushes to greet Lewis, her large electric blue eyes glow with an unearthliness, "I am so glad you are safe.  I thought I might not be able to divert that car in time." She gushes as Lewis turns to stone.

"Lucy, what are you talking about?" Lewis asked walking Lucy over to the chair.

Lucy pulls her long thin legs up into the chair wraps her arms around them and places her chin on her knees, a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes spreads across her face. "I am talking about the car that almost ran you and Fred down this afternoon.  The fool." Lucy states as a coldness etches into her voice.

"Lucy. What did you do?"

"I saved your life Lewis, that is what I did."

"Lucy, you understand that the car driver died, and the pedestrian he hit will likely never walk again?"

"Yes, Lewis.  I understand. I did not just hack into the car without considering the likelihood of his death. I analyzed the variables and possible outcomes; first."

Lewis begins to pace around the room glancing at Lucy every couple seconds. Lewis wondered: Had he failed her? Given Lucy to much freedom? Did Luc realize what she had done? Did she really kill someone? Why would she kill someone? What could he have done to prevent this? These thoughts rattled around in his head like dice in a glass. 

Taking deep breaths he could feel the air moving past his real lips, as he reigned in his thoughts and emotion. Lewis stopped, in his mind he recreated his chair, his digital self collapsed into its embrace. It was time, he couldn't avoid this any longer.

Lucy remained in the chair wary of the Lewis's reaction, she had saved his life. Yet he seemed mad? What more could he ask from her. Seconds stretched on for millenni--to fill the void she began to work the Riemann Hypothesis, the math flowed out of her mind into a sector she had created just for the problem,  she was hoping to solve it for Lewis; as a gift. 

"Lucy,  we need to talk about what you did today." Lewis states keeping the emotions running wild in his mind in check,  as he snaps the band on his wrist. 

"What is there to discuss.  I saved your and Fred's lives. If I had not acted we would not be able to have anymore discussions." Lucy replies her foot taps a steccato beat.

"Ok, you have a point.  Start at the beginning.  Tell me exactly what you saw. How you came to your current decision."

"If we must,  but I would rather work on developing the new algorithm we started."

"We must.  How long did it take you to make the decision?"

"It took 3.2 second's to make the decision. After, I calculated the outcome of the current trajectory of the vehicle which took 1.2 seconds."

"You only gave a man's life 4.4 seconds of consideration?"

"Actually,  I calculated a number of options.  I looked at a total of 8 people in that time,  you, Fred, the driver,  the pedestrian that was struck and two other adults and 2 children,  I did a cost benefit analysis on each person, considering life potential, corporate connections, and likelihood of survival."

Lewis swallowed the cotton in his throat. Lewis  sometime would forget that Lucy was anything but ordinary.  "That means you gave each person .55 of a seconds consideration."

"No,  Lewis I did not have that much time.  I spent 1.2 seconds analyzing vehicle trajectories, calculating breaking speeds, and which building could take the impact of the vehicle and at what velocity the vehicle could be traveling." Lucy gets up and goes to her desk she picks up a surface, which she hands it to Lewis.

Lewis takes the surface, a thin plastic composite screen, flexes in his grasp, with a flick he snaps it into a solid state.  Looking at the screen, he finds a series of mathematical formulas. Using his finger he scrolls through the formulas. The construct is perfectly silent.  There is no wind here to beat against windows,  now birds singing outside,  not creaking of the house. Even Lucy's footsteps don't make a sound, Lewis is tempted to exit the construct, to breath in the real world.

"Lucy,  How much time and weight did you give the human factor in your calculations?"

Lucy stops turns to Lewis tilts her head,  "the human factor? I am not sure what you mean?"

Lewis looks around the room. How to explain what he is asking.  "Ok,  the driver, and the pedestrian he hit.  What did you look at when you did their cost benefit analysis?"

"Oh,  yes.  I looked at age,  income potential, societal contributions so far in their lives, career potentiality and corporate connections."

"Did you look at look if they were married, had children, were they supporting anyone, did you look at what effect their deaths would have on others."

"Of course.  The driver was married with two children.  He was worth more to them dead. He has a 1.4 million dollar life insurance policy which is three time the amount he could earn on his current career path. Also the corporation he is connected to is facing a hostile takeover at the end of the month. With his current performance reviews it is unlike he would have maintained his position." Lucy stopped pacing and sat at her desk looking, the driver's file and Lucy's calculations scrolled in the air, in front of her, the blue words and numbers fade into her eyes.  

"Do you think you missed anything in calculating his cost benefit analysis."

"No, But clearly you do.  What do you think I missed?"

Sighing,  "you said he had two children and a wife.  What impact will his death have on them?"

"Oh,  well the children will now be able to afford to attend school past the 5th grade. Based on their test scores this will have a positive impact on their futures.  The wife will no longer have to worry about money. She will no longer worry that her husband is having an affair. She talked to her sister about it a lot. Additionally, she will be able to move back to Seattle to be close to her family."

"No, that is not what I mean.  What psychological impact will the death of her husband have on her?  How will growing up without a father affect the children?"

Lucy freezes at her desk, her eyes vibrate as she processes Lewis's questions. A couple seconds later Lucy looks at Lewis,"These are not quantifiable variables and should be excluded from the formula."

"You are correct that these are not quantifiable variables but that does not mean they should be excluded. The social science have looked at these factors since man could ask what is the worth of a man's life.  This is why,  one person can't choose who lives and dies."

"Lewis,  I do not understand.  Corporations and people decide who lives and dies every day.  Looking at ABA Corp, they decide who the sentences for a number of criminals daily, including the death penalty.  Kaiser Inc. Decided which paitents will receive treatment and which will not, in effect choosing who lives and dies. How is what I did any different?"

"It's different because society gave them the right to make those decisions. However, an individual man hasn't been given the right to choose who lives and dies. Human life is more than the numbers in an equation."

"I have to disagree Lewis,  humanity and human life can be judged and weighted mathematically. Look at you for example.  Your worth to society outweighed the other seven people combined." Lucy stated,  her jaw set stubbornly. 

"But why?  Why am I worth more than other people?  I am just a teenager who has an alcoholic father who has no corporate ties, and a mother who loves me but refuses to accept her corporate status, and wants he to maintain distance from all corporate entities."

"Though corporate connection is one variable to look at in a cost benefit analysis, it actually only plays a significant factor if the connections are predominant for the person. Or the person lacks the skills to attract corporate sponsorship. Lewis,  your benefit to society will come from your skill to create new code, applications, mathematics, and  numerous advances in technology.  Though you do not currently have strong corporate connections you have the skills to gain them.  Additionally,  since you are just a teenager,  your potential is stretches out before you.  Unlike the driver, who had reached his peak of benefit to society. He was on the downward slope of his benefit to society."

"Did you consider the intrinsic worth of a man?"

"What intrinsic worth.  Humans are merely animals,  they are worth no more or less than what they can provide to the whole of society.  The driver had spent his worth, and furthermore was a detriment to the worth of others."

"How do you mean he was a detriment to the worth of others?"

"He was a burden on his family, and would soon be a burden on society. Additionally his recklessness nearly cost society a member that had a higher value."

"How was he a burden on his family?  He had a job, he supported them, was active in their lives..."

"How is that not detrimental?" asked Lucy.

Lewis stood frustrated with Lucy's responses,  he furiously snapped the band on his wrist in the real world, which was turning his wrist red in his current location.  "Ok, Lucy. Let's come at this from a different position.  How would your calculations have worked if I was the driver in the car?"

"The calculations would have been the same."  Lucy states, her face wrinkling as she tried to understand the point Lewis was making.

"Run through your calculations as hypotheticals.  Replacing me with each person.  Under any of those hypotheticals,  Do you let me die?"  Lewis paced the room as Lucy's eyes burned like the blue of a candle's flame, her lips rapidly moved as she calculated each scenario.

Suddenly Lucy's eyes snapped open and shut, her lips froze and she faded to an echo of her former self.  Within in a breath she returned to normal,  "No, Lewis.  I there is no circumstance where you or Fred would have died."

"Lucy, are you sure about that?" asked Lewis.  He stepped around the desk and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You are worth more than any human being."

Shaking his head, Lewis looked at Lucy his brow creased tears in his eye's "What am I going to do with you?"

Lewis removed his goggles, the room was lit by the fading sun and the glow of the monitors he could smell dinner down chicken,bread and cinnamon; his stomach growled hungrily. Lewis pushed aside thoughts of hunger he had bigger problems to solve tonight.

 

 

 

            

 

  

Writing with disabilities

In school, I was the slow student the one in the back of the class dreaming and watching the world around me.  This world was filled with broken people, sad people, angry people all taking out their pain and frustration out on those around them.  I knew I could not take this path.  With this realization, I decided to do the one thing no one would expect. I would go to college and pull myself out of the world I was born into.

There was just one problem or at least that is what I was told. I was stupid, a retard. I was not the pretty sister; or the smart sister, I was the tough one that knew how to take a hit. The one that could be pushed down, punched, beaten yet I always got up, but that was stupid too. 

It was not until the middle of my sixth grade year a teacher me I was not stupid. He told me, "I just had a different way of thinking and learning".  This teacher never used the words learning disability, dyslexia, or even slow.  Instead he pointed to the fact I was able to see twenty different possible ending to any story prompt; and I was able to hear something once or twice and repeat it back verbatim,  He would ask me questions and let my mind explore all the multitude of possibilities.  He pushed me, to be more than I thought I could ever be. When I told him I wanted to go to college, he was the first person who did not laugh.  I have thought often about this teacher over the years and wonder if he realizes the impact he had on my life, 

You might have figured from the picture and the story: I have dyslexia.  Over the years,  other teachers, instructors, professors have not been nearly as supportive as my sixth grade teacher.  As an undergraduate, a professor told me, "People like me don't belong in academia".  In  graduate school, I was told, "I would never be able to finish a thesis".  In Law School a professor asked me "How someone like me planned to be an attorney" or better yet,  "that my inability to spell would make it impossible to pass law school or the bar exam."  I have been asked, "If there is a cure." People told me, "I was just to lazy too learn to spell". The things educators told me or asked verged on rude.  I can deal with rudeness.  However, I find it interesting that these people still do not understand, just because a person may think differently does not make them any less intelligent.  

What does this have to do with my topic "Writing with disabilities"; well it has a lot to do with it actually.  Though I have a disability, I have never bowed down to accepting accommodations, in school, work, or life.   Many people applaud me for this; but, I have to wonder; Why I feel it is bowing down.  Would you ask a blind person to read without braille? Ask a deaf person to speak without sign language?  No, people would think you insensitive, uneducated, and absolutely politically incorrect.   Why is it any different for other disabilities? 

I believe it is because other disabilities are invisible.  looking at me you cannot tell I'm dyslexic, nor can you see ADD, ADHD or any number of other disabilities.  Because they cannot be seen, people do not believe they exist, they are a problem, and don't even understand what they are. I was once asked by a law school professor, "So that means you can't read.  How does that work?" As a student this I dealt with this type of ignorance on a daily basis.  It taught me to keep my mouth shut, about my disability. I feared I would be seen as less than the other students.  

Having exited the ivory towers of academia, its lessons were drilled deep into my unconscious, Don't tell, Don't ask, I have filled my world with Don't.  As a writer who struggles with the written language--spelling, writing, reading--transforming thoughts to words I don't voice this struggle I internalize my frustration: what I think is not what I see. The don'ts of my world strangle me as I battle with the words trying to force them to create my inner worlds.  I read critiques that focus not on the story, but on my typo and mis-spellings I don't voice my struggle, I don't tell.  I sit silently like a deaf person trying to speak a language beyond my grasp.  Because Don'ts are my world 

Writing with a disability is hard enough; add in my need to remain silent about my struggle makes it doubly difficult.  This perpetuated need to remain silent about invisible disabilities needs to be broken, not just for myself but for others,  So I have decided to put myself out there,  knowing full well that some will criticizes me, tell me I should choose a different path.  I will use my inner strength once more. to add my voice and actions to the chorus of others to prove that  people with disabilities can be writers, lawyers, and leaders.  I will remove the don'ts from my world.  

  

  

To camp or not to camp

April fools day has come and gone along with the first day of April's NaNoWriMo Camp.  As I sit here 3 days into April,  having written less that 2000 words for the month and having missed my goals for January and February because of Bar Prep and testing I ponder whether a camp is exactly what I need to get back in the writing saddle.

March was a good month a started and completed a short story.  This kept me going for most of March but even with that I only wrote about 40,000 words for the month.  Once again I did not met my goal which I set at 100k to get caught for my years goal. 

Still have a number of projects that I need to finish,  revisions to be done on others, my lack of words has nothing to do with lack of ideas,  maybe the issue is to many ideas, which has lead me to be come a possum caught in the headlights. 

With this idea,  I have decided that I will Camp WriMo for April. Camp is unlike November with a set word count goal.  You get the set your own goals.  So here are my April goals.

• Start and finish a 3000 to 5000 word short story for the writers digest competition. 
• Make the revisions to Veil and finish the last 20 or so chapters,
• Write two chapters for the Red Book Expose.
• Sit down and re-read Cave City review revision suggestions and do my own mark up.

 Simple right!  Now that I have written them down, I just need to decide which will be my April Camp Project.   I'm leaning towards using the veil as the project that way I have deadlines and a group to keep me accountable.    However the smaller project of the short story might work as it will require a rough draft, working draft,  beta draft and final draft. 

Short story it is.  So now I just have to sign up and write.  Another day, another word.  More to come next week,  I will post some of my work and do a blog post about the advantages of real world righting groups vs.  online writing groups. 

Tell then,  read some, write madly and live fully. 

Artistic compunction about profanity

My main writing project for the month of March has been a short story,  Gutter Punk.  This story is loosely based on a social construct of Punk Society that has existed more than fifty years.  It started as a counter culture movement but has devolved to a groups of traveling teenagers that don't really fit into our current social normative world.  They are gypsies, vagabonds travelers all and none of these things.

With this culture as my base. I'm left to wonder is profanity necessary to create a realistic character.  I decided that linguistic tone of these characters would require a lot of rule breaking, slang and yes profanity.  While I was writing it did not even enter my mind that people would find this offensive or obscene.  Yet one of my first critiques said exactly that.

I set the piece aside to think about the comment.  I was curious what made the use of b!tch  profane.  Was it the fact that one female character was calling another one, a cray-cray b!tch, is it the fact that it was a female voice using this term, or is the word itself offensive. As I pondered this thought, I was pursing facebook.

When a post popped up in my feed asking what people thought of this app, Clean Reader.  I responded briefly never heard of it.  I was shocked, dismayed and interested at the same time when she told me this app scrubs profanity from books.  

Curiosity led me to the Clean Reader website: which touts read clean books not profanity.  "Clean Reader prevents swear words in books from being displayed on your screen. You decide how clean your books should appear and Clean Reader does the rest." Digging deeper into the site, I discovered that not only does this filter (as the call it) take out profanity, but also hurtful racial terms.  

Okay so my mind is spinning for a minute.  Who decided what is profane, what is a hurtful racial term and what happens to literature if artists are not allowed to explore all manners of nature, culture, counter-culture. Humanity at its worst and best and everything in between. 

Are we left with a vanilla world, were the past atrocity are glazed over or in the case lined through.  Will we live in a world redacted of everything that offends, and if so you is the arbitrator of distressing language.  Or worse will we forget the language of the past and the hard lessons it has taught and continues to teach us. 

Or will art die on the vine or creativity if the idea that things that make one sad should be avoided.  The creator of Clean Reader states that they designed the app because their child was sad after reading a book, would it not be better to discuss and deal with the emotional reaction than to avoid them.  What happens in a world were one does everything to avoid emotional reaction,  and what happens to art, as it is for the purpose of evoking emotion.  See the definition of music an art of sound in time that expresses ideas and emotions in significant forms through the elements of rhythm, melody, harmony, and color.

 I for one write to evoke an emotional response, from myself, and my reader.  If I could paint this would also be my goal.  I want people to pick up my books, and feel, sad, happy, angry.  I want them to rage against the inequities I show,  or love when a character achieves that which she was told was impossible, but in the world that clean readers want to create my art will lose its meaning and context as many of my worlds are formed by the enclaves of my young adult experiences. They are trying to create a world I rally against.  So on that note,  Fuck all to Hell,  I will write as my characters and my art dictate.  

Mermaids and Plots

I recently had my 37th Birthday. My present to myself was a new tattoo,  I chose a mermaid design. The road to get my Mermaid was much more complicated than I had first planned.  The plan:  Go to the tattoo studio as soon as it open, get my tattoo, then go to work.  Simple, right?

Well, plans are made to be broken,  the same is true for plots.   There are two types of writers; the Planners and the Pantsters; when it comes to plotting.  Planners sit down and plan out each aspect of the plot, sub plot.  They write out character descriptions, back story, and planning out the character's life.  This group can spend months or years in the planning stage.  The other group are the Pantsters. This group sees stories as found objects, something that needs to be discovered and uncovered. The Pantsters sits down and just writes, where the muse takes them.  Many try to say which is the correct way to write.  I say there is not one correct way to write; but I am definitely a Pantster.

When it comes to plot it doesn't matter if  you are a Planner or a Pantster you should be able, at some point, to boil the plot down to about 300 words.  If you can do it in a sentence or 50 words even better.    For example one of my favorite books by Dean Knootz Dark Rivers of the Heart, can be boiled down to this.  A scared man meets a broken woman one night at a bar,  the next night he goes back  only to find the woman is missing.  The man goes in search of the missing woman he hopes he can save, from those hunting her.  In the end the woman saves the man,  and the dog. Together they bring down the men hunting the woman.  Now if only I was able to do that with one of my own stories. Normally I am like a cat on catnip with a new toy.

But there is more to good plot than being able to tell your story in 50 words. I good plot also needs structure, and engine and to lack cliques.   For a Pantster (like myself) the structure is what hangs me up.   Idea's flow from my fingertips like ink from a pen, but making it more than just a meaningless doodle is the hard part for me.  So, this month I am going to work on: boiling each of my current projects down to 100 words or less, adding in structure, and clearly stating what the engine for the story is supposed to be.  I'll work on cliques later.

Today's Plot is  for Gutter Punk (a short Story):   Tabitha came to Portland, for a mission that she hopes will be the end of State rule.  She is unaware that one of her own is no-longer loyal to the cause, but only to self-preservation.  Tabitha’s mission starts to fall apart.  At first, she thinks that it is because of the OSBI, but this does not seem right.  As the mission deteriorates, Tabitha questions her resolve to remain in the field, and if change is possible.  The mission in ruins, Tabitha has lost her friend and her lover. She faces the loss of herself, as she seeks revenge and looses sight of the mission.  The engine for the story is Elena, she is the problem Tabitha has to solve.  

And that brings us back to Mermaids, mythological creatures of the deep, that are as likely to sing for you, as they are to drag you down to the depth of the ocean.  Both beautiful and dangerous Mermaid are  everything a plot should be, but also rings of cliques from Splash to Little Mermaid.   And so was the my Odyssey to get a mermaid tattoo, from a car crash, to hours waiting, to missing work, but at long last I succeeded. At least mostly, the tattoo is not done yet.

So until next time,  Write madly, Live boldly and plot wildly but give it some structure.

Top 5 Places to Write in Portland

I like most Portlandiers have emerged from winter's hibernation early this year,  as sunny warm days now seem the norm and not the rarity.  The sun brings with it new writing challenges.  Where should I write today.   Portland is a Coffee Shop Mecca, besides the 1000s or so coffee shops, there're a number of other places to sit and write in Portland, Oregon--from libraries to bars and just about every place in between.

One of my favorite activities to do while trying to write is people watch, which means I try to find places with good street views and plug-ins--a necessity for any laptop wielding writer.  Most people after knowing me for less than a minute realize my passion, obsession, really addiction to all things coffee, so my favorite writing locations are either near great coffee or serve great coffee.

My top five places to write in Downtown Portland.

Floyd's Coffee 118 NW Couch:  Yes,  that is Old Town.  But it has a lot of positives.  First on the weekends, the Saturday Market traffic provides plenty of people to watch,  and turn into your next character.  Second, they have both indoor and out door seating. Both area's have plug-ins. If you know where to look.  Third, is the free WiFi.  Beyond that the Baristas don't mind you sitting for hours writing.  There is art work on the walls if people stop streaming in. Best of all, you get free refills on drip coffee when you order an 8oz cup of coffee for here.  They use Stumptown coffee, which makes great cup of joe,  or an espresso; either way you can't go wrong

Glyph Café 804 NW Couch,  Yes, that is still Old Town.  Though this place is in the heart of downtown you wouldn't know it looking out the windows. Or sitting at one of the side walk tables as it is right on the Park Blocks.  This is a good blend of wanting to write in the park; but, still have a table for your laptop and that all important plug-in and free WiFi.  They serve small reserve coffees, and a broad selection of tea (which I have not touched). They use large ice cubs,  so your iced espresso based drinks don't get all watery, and melt slower in the fabulous cold brew coffee.

Coffee Time 712 NW 21st.  Up to Nob Hill.  I love this section of Portland for its little shops and multitude of restaurants.  The neighborhood has a nice mix of Keep Portland Weird Locals,  Tourists,  and Hipsters to keep the people watching interesting  Additionally, this is the place to go if you need an 11:00pm coffee fix and want to write in downtown.  The coffee is good, but not the best in town. But who can pass up watching old men, and homeless kids arguing about playing chess.  If you want a fail safe on a good cup, just order a bottle of Stumptown's cold brew which they sell.

Southeast Grind 1223 SE Powell:  Okay this one is just outside of Downtown,  But it's the ONLY 24 hour coffee shop even close to downtown.  Also they serve a drink called the Graveyard, it is heaven, in a late night writers, cup: coffee, espresso, white chocolate, steamed milk and whip cream.  How could you ask for more.  Well go in at 2:00 am on a Thursday night and your people watching radar will go off the chart.  They also server yummy stuff to nosh on while writing.  The have free WiFi, plug-ins and a number of seating options including couches and tables,

Multnomah County Main Library 801 SW 10th.  Okay. It's not a coffee shop, but it is surrounded by some of the best in town. (aka courier coffee).  You started of at Floyd's,  Moved on to Coffee Time, and were cutoff at Southeast Grind, its now 10:00 am. You're over caffeinated and still want to write. So  head to the Library, first there are plenty of tables,  the librarians are helpful. If you give them enough time,  and can they find you just about anything you could desire research wise.  Again there is free WiFi and people watching galore as Students,  Soccer Mom's with toddlers and the Homeless all meander about.

So those are my favorite caffeine induced writing spots in and around Downtown.  Do you think I forgot any?  What are your favorite places to write in Portland.

For an update on my year of writing madly: After little to know writing in January and  February, I came out of the March gates with a roar.  I've written about 15,000 words, so far this month,  Most of then for a Short Story that I'm currently working on,  and if all goes as planned will be published sometime this summer.

Until next time, read, write and be happy.

Why First Drafts Suck and Why they should.

I recently read my first draft, of Close Corp for the first time in a long time. I was struck by how bad it is, which made me wonder if maybe the story was not worth the effort of a re-write.  Then I remembered an article I read while in Law School;  about why lawyers should never be satisfied with the first draft. The article, went on the explain, that drafts were just that drafts, a jumping off point to what you really intended.

Looking at Close Corp,  I began to think about what I really want the story to say, on the macro and micro level.  I looked at my plots and sub plots.  Finally coming to the conclusion that I did not like the story is because it now yet what I envision.  

Though it is far from my vision,  what I do have is a draft,  material to work with which will allow me to fill in holes, expand the story and contract the story.  Though this draft is rough,  looking at it as a whole I realize that it is just the starting point.  And I sigh, a sigh of relief.

This process made me wonder,  do all authors look at their drafts, second guess the story, the characters,  the worlds they have created.  Are we all displeased with our creations? Seeing them as errant children that have not lived up to your expectations. Or is this a singular thought and feeling.

To discover, my answer I did what comes naturally to me; I researched the questions.  What I found is that consistently authors say that rough drafts suck, are just the beginning, the clay to build the story,  the start of the creation not the end.  As I read article after blog I realize that I am not in singular in this feeling.  But I wonder why?  Why can't the story in my mind emerge fully formed onto the page just as I imagine?

For me the answer to that is that what I want and expect of the story changes as I write.  I don't start off with the crystal clear image fully formed.  I start of with something like a half remembered dream that I am trying to re-create.  And as the pieces come together the image is fine tuned,  but at the same time perfection of creation is an every moving point, Just out of grasp.

But that is why you need drafts,  to fine tune, and focus your image to a point were you might be willing to let that errant child run free, for good or ill.

So here is to all the stories that were not what the author thought, wanted, imagined, but are loved by the rest of us, even as the author looks down and shakes her head knowingly.

“Awful first drafts are fine—Agree with this.
If you don’t finish something, you’ll never get in the game. Just quell the voice in your head that says “Are you kidding? No one is going to want to read this drivel” and keep on going. You’re going to revise and revise and then revise again anyway.” 
― Jamie Frevelett 

Getting back on the horse

After nearly two months spent bogged down studying for the
New York bar exam, the last  couple days have reinvigorated me and my passion to write.  Today, I spent the morning walking around NY university, and the afternoon in Chelsea with each step new plot twists filled my mind.  
I cannot wait to get back to the keyboard , Tabitha, 
Fred, and Amelia have no idea what
I have in store for them now.  

new york