Writing or Typing?

This question is a common one. Do you use a pen or a pc? It’s been asked of famous authors at book signings. It’s been discussed by writers on blogs, much like this one is discussing it now. The other day, I asked it of myself. It feels like one of those age-old questions, like “is there a god?” or “is there life out there?” The kind of philosophical conundrum that wars were fought over, or religious establishments built up around. Which is strange really, since typing devices have only been widely available for around 150 years.

Of course, whether you use a pen or a PC to do your writing is a matter of personal preference. There can be no right and wrong answer.
(In fact, I am of the mind that the universe contains no right or wrong answers, merely opinions of perceptions. But that’s for another day…)

It seems a shame that, as the modern age rumbles onwards, the practice of writing might be left behind. Today, children are learning to type on a computer before they can form letters with a pen. I find it both awe-inspiring, that we can create and distribute such useful technology, and regrettable that the ways we old’uns (and many that came before us) used are being discontinued.

Both writing and typing have their uses. I have been using my home PC to draw up my blog posts and to draft my story ideas and it’s been great. Lately though, I’ve been feeling unhappy with it. Something doesn’t feel quite right. It feels hollow.
I think it has something to do with how easy it is. Since you can delete a whole sentence with just a tap of a button, it makes the act of creating that sentence meaningless. You can add extra lines in anywhere you need them, as well as commas, full stops, etc. This makes the proper structuring of your thoughts and words irrelevant, as it can all be changed in half a moment.
Writing ideas down straight from my head onto a computer ends up feeling soulless. The writing has no personality associated with it, not mine, not a character’s… This kind of soulless writing reminds me of a shell of a building. Nobody builds a house they want to live in entirely from scaffolding and nothing else. They use bricks and concrete. The end result doesn’t have the luxury of being altered or made bigger or grander with little to no effort, like the scaffolding house does, but it has meaning, relevance and ultimately, it has purpose.
Another way of looking at it is like playing a video game with all of the cheat codes turned on. It takes away the difficulty and, once the novelty has worn off, it takes away the fun too. A game that isn’t fun is meaningless.

Inventing a new and easier way of doing something is great, but it’s not always better.
I think I’ll do most of my original drafts on paper. This post was written up in a notebook at a local park on a sunny afternoon, not in my house, staring at a screen, getting distracted by Facebook. 🙂

Do you have any thoughts or opinions on what you read? Why not leave a comment! I’m trying to promote discussion as much as possible.
The next post will be about those special places you go to chill and do some writing.
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Lots Of Things, All At Once

I’ve been gone a while. I wonder if anyone noticed…?
I took a little holiday, but it wasn’t to a foreign country to escape from everyday life.
I was getting frustrated with myself and the process I’d locked myself in.
I was doing all the things I normally do eg. gaming, working, getting slightly drunk and listening to music late into the night. I did it to escape from the computer for a bit and, if that means not posting for 10 days, so be it. I posted a few updates (alright, one update) on my Facebook page to let people know I’m still alive, however I’m changing up my post schedule soon. More on that later.

In the meantime, I haven’t been shirking my creative writing. I went exploring! I found a park not far from where I live that I didn’t even know existed. Many hours were spent spread out in the long grass with a notebook and pen, scribbling down lots of great new developments.

I’m trying to develop my writing style. Although I haven’t asked anyone to give me an honest opinion about the way I write, I judge myself to be complicated verging on boring. The reason for this is that I tend to use long, complex sentences with lots of commas, which make perfect sense in my mind but lose a lot of their structure once they become translated into words. Ironically, that sentence is a perfect example.
To try to fix this, I’m trying to use shorter sentences more frequently. Take this link as a good example. Short sentences grab attention. Longer, complex sentences are used for important details, like plot points you’re trying to draw attention to, but are only useful once the reader’s attention has been grabbed. Varying the sentence length helps keep it interesting too.

I’ve developed a system for controlling my rampant nightly inspiration. This has been a real problem for me in the past. Long nights without sleep. Disturbed daily activity. Missed meetings. Studying the conditions under which they happen most has led me to notice some patterns.

1. Listening to music is always involved.
2. It always happens in bed, or a similar state of relaxation.
3. I’ve frequently been drinking beforehand, though not massively.

I’ve started recreating these conditions. On certain nights, when I don’t have to be up too early the next day, I’ll have a drink. I’ll take the iPod to bed with me and listen for an hour or two. The few times I tried this have all been successful. There’s a notepad by my bed now, ready to record the forging of new ideas.

Have I learned the secret to manufacturing my own eureka moments? Quite possibly! Only time will tell.

That being said, the RKDA story has been fleshed out beyond anything I had a week ago. It is more rounded, more mature and more confident in itself, if a story can be confident.

I will make another post this week, tackling a question at the very core of writing: the Pen or the Keyboard?

These words you are now reading, whose are they? Yours or mine? The point of writing is to take charge of the voice in someone else’s head

– AndroidBrotherHood, Imgur

Why don’t you leave a comment here. Yep, right here. I want to know what you think.
Is my writing style too convoluted? You may have to refer to previous posts for a better example.
Have you ever had to change the way you write? If so, how did you do it?
Do you have a particular method for attracting creative thoughts?
Follow me on Facebook! You’ll get regular updates on what I’m working on and when I post on my blog. Linky link!

Errands, Anxiety and Knee Armour.

There’s a famous quote that goes along the lines of “the definition of insanity is doing the same thing twice and expecting different results.”
Today, I took a walk into town. To anyone that knows me personally, this is an equally applicable definition for insanity. I try not to leave the house too often, except for supplies and work.

I went for a walk. Today, in my small corner of England, it was beautifully sunny with nothing but a whisper of wind. I like to be prepared for every eventuality so, naturally, I wore a jumper.
I had a bunch of errands to run (engage infinite panic mode) but I had an ulterior motive. I hoped that the proximity to healthy joggers and nature would engage the inspirational part of my mind.

Do you know what?
I actually enjoyed it. Every minute of it.
Do you know why?
Knee Armour.

Let me explain.
I’m a very imposing figure. I’m ridiculously, unbelievably tall but, because I’m unconfident and shy in social situations like large areas filled with people and noise, I tend to stoop and shrink away from attention. Today though, I decided to wear some sports knee supports (weird elasticated tubular things) entirely on a whim.
Boy, did that decision change everything.

I went from my usual hurried, slouching gait with hands in pockets to standing tall, striding to and fro with precise movements. My hands were to my sides and, in the confusion about what I should be doing with them on show, randomly found myself gripping door handles long moments after I meant to let go. Something about wearing those knee supports (which I now call my Knee Armour) changed the way my legs moved, which changed my entire stance. I felt like the protagonist from an Ayn Rand novel and it was glorious!

I went about my errands with such confidence I’ve never felt before and although it seems silly attributing such a good feeling to something as simple as knee supports, it really did help. Even the scary, adult responsibilities such as dealing with dentists, banks and talking about mortgages, I could assert this newfound confidence into my speech and talk with authority and direction.

Like all things, the feeling faded. Luckily, I was back home by that stage.
Thus ends the tale of Toby’s trip to town.

Thanks for reading this slightly mad tale that has no bearing on anything at all. If you made it this far, drop a comment. I’d love to hear if you guys have any personal ways of dealing with real-life difficulties, big and small.

Cheers, *raises a glass*
Toby

The RKDA Project

I’m unbelievably nervous. I feel victimised by my nefarious past self, who promises things he knows he doesn’t have to deal with, all the while twirling a dastardly moustache between two fingers, laughing maniacally. Thus is regret.

I promised I would lay bare my main writing project, partly as a challenge to myself, to overcome my usual guarded shyness and partly out of curiosity, to see if any readers take any interest in it. I had intended to post this yesterday but found there was no time to do even half of the things I’d hoped.
Without any further delay, scroll down to read about this project I’ve been talking about for two weeks…

*Disclaimer: although the main plot is fairly fixed in my mind, details are almost certainly going to be rewritten several times over.

PREMISE
It begins with a man. Unconscious, alone, adrift in space. Nowhere near anywhere, no memory of how he came to be there, his fragile bubble of atmosphere and warmth almost depleted.
He awakens aboard a vessel which, through sheer luck, happens to be nearby. The ship’s captain, an enigmatic alien AI, is as perplexed as the man is at how a still-living carbon-based lifeform came to be hurtling through dead space, light years from the nearest habitable planet.
The AI-captain, known as the Custodian, treats the man, named Ranos, with friendly curiosity. It quickly becomes apparent that the ship, named RKDA in the rune-like alien language, is like no ship Ranos (or any human) has ever seen before. Resembling a colossal planet, the outside has been carefully terraformed into a beautiful garden world, teaming with life – while the ship’s inner workings are tucked away deep inside the core.
Although the alien race that RKDA was designed and built for are long dead, the Custodian continues his voyage through the stars, observing the slow march of evolution in the birds, beasts and other beings under his care.
With no way to leave, Ranos settles down on the world-ship. Suffering from loneliness, longing for his past life and all those he used to know, the Custodian offers the man access to the ship’s vast gene banks. He can use his own DNA, combined with that of many other species, to create some human company…

300 years later, humankind is flourishing in this distant corner of the universe. Tens of thousands of men and women forge lives for themselves in the idyllic surroundings of the land they know as Arcadia, building cities, tilling the earth, sailing far across the seas.
Ranos and a few select others are worshipped by the common folk as gods, boasting superhuman strength, knowledge and longevity as the result of their genetic enhancement.
The ship has given control of many of its technological marvels to Ranos which only increases the awe the common folk have for him.
Yet, even with the worship of so many and the marvels of science at his fingertips, Ranos cannot escape mortality. In his waning years, those he once treated as friends and fellow deities scheme to take power for themselves…

Well, there is! I got as much of the important detail in as I could, to ensure this reads as easily as possible.
I’m hoping for as much feedback as possible, even if you have nothing good to say at all, I still want to hear!
Thank you for reading down this far and I really hope you enjoy the attempt at fusing science fiction and ancient-times-fantasy.

Toby

Portentous Signs

I feel really sucky for giving you, dear readers, yet another rubbish update. This will be the third and final one for this week which should be reassuring for us all, as if I manage to find the time to squeeze in another post, I’d have to invent a few extra days of the week.

On the bright side, this update isn’t entirely useless. I actually have important and (hopefully) interesting things to announce, rather than just making up excuses for why I’ve not had time to write lately.

Firstly, this week marks the third week of dedicated creative writing for me. My word count tally has risen to an impressive 8,500 words! I can’t believe how much of it there is, even though it’s still a paltry amount by most standards. There is now a rough skeleton with which to work, that I can start fleshing out a little more.

Most of what I’m writing is for my main project (with the WIP title of RKDA). I’ve been using the title for a week or so now and I’m still very much aware that it means nothing to anyone except me. I intend to rectify this, as I’m going to showcase my ideas for the RKDA project some time over the next 7 days.
I’ll put together some sort of blurb, a brief synopsis and, if I do not make a complete wreck of it, a sample of some of the writing I’ve got for it.

I can’t deny that it’s exciting. The most difficult part of pretty much any intellectual project is unveiling it in some way to others.
I’ll be asking for lots and lots of feedback (especially negative feedback!) but that’ll be another day. Until that day arrives, take care dear reader, and thank you for putting up with my endless updates. 🙂

With trepidation,
Toby

“I like it when somebody gets excited about something. It’s nice.”
― J.D. Salinger

I Nearly Bought a Flat.

This week is turning into quite the surprise.
Not only have I had to acclimatise to my new work hours, but I was convinced by a close friend to buy my first property. I still live in the house I grew up in and, until recently, had no desire to leave home. I still don’t!
So why buy a flat?

Actually, I was hoping to make some money by renovating it. It was quite shabby and smelled of ‘pets.’ Unfortunately, someone enjoyed the smell of ‘pets’ more than I did and they bought it instead. Oh well.
It was an exhilarating experience though! I still feel so adult, even in the aftermath of almost buying my first property. I have a now-redundant meeting with a man about mortgages which I shall endeavour to attend, since it gives me an excuse to talk about how little I earn with someone who sort-of cares.

“Your house shall be not an anchor but a mast
It shall not be a glistening film that covers a wound, but an eyelid that guards the eye.”
― Khalil Gibran

My writing has taken a hit from all of the other activities. I found myself thinking about what I could do to that flat in time I had set aside for developing story ideas.
I naively assumed I’d have time for everything planned. I was wrong.
I’m hoping I can reach the awesome goal of 3000 words this week, but it means writing 1000 every day until Saturday.

Looks like the cut-scene finale of Diablo III. Looks like, but isn’t.

Let’s just hope I can resist the urge to boot up the Xbox. I used to play it through almost all of my free time. I’ve said it before, I’m a big fan of gaming and the aspect of interactive storytelling it has.
I’ve been hooked on Diablo III lately, we shall see how long it takes for me to give up and find my way back on it. 🙂

Thanks for reading this rubbish update, I hope to have some better ideas for things to write about next week.
Toby

“Stay awhile, and listen”
― Deckard Cain

A Link in the Chain

This is an unscheduled post.
I will not lie, Toby has been consuming alcohol. I suppress the urge to explain my actions, like a young man would to his mother. I have a right to do as I wish. If it pleases you, dear reader, you may consider this an experiment in inebriation, the quality of writing it produces, the effect epic music has upon the drunken mind and an examination of the inspiration created therein.

For those that know me and my post style, this will be  throwing all the typical styles out of the open window into the balmy night. It’s a raw, gritty account of a night where all rules are revoked.
Let me give some hint as to what’s going on. Currently in England, it is night time. It is past midnight. It is the hidden kingdom of the night, governed by silence and cats.

As well as drinking, I have been talking to a fellow writer (words hold a calmness and a stoicism like stone. I am not calm as my hands shaking on the keyboard can attest to that) and I feel as if I have  bonded with this person. It turns out that we both enjoy science fiction and, though I have large stockpiles of motivation, he has not been so lucky. My projects are coming on leaps and bounds, yet his have been abandoned after large tracts of time (and space).

My motivation is largely formed from these bonds. When I first decided to start this blog and begin writing the ideas that had been boiling over in my mind for almost a year, it was all because of the presence of one person. That person drew out my confidence and allowed me to reflect ideas off her. She was the first link in the chain. Tonight’s muse was my second link.

I am, pardon the slang, buzzing. I can’t keep my hands still. I’m rewriting sentences several times over because my usually impeccable spelling is so shaky. I’ve had the inspirational music playing almost all night. My body is brimming, not with ideas that need to be written down, but pure motivational force. I feel that I can simply focus my mind against an obstacle and it will fracture and disintegrate within seconds. I’ve become possessed of a sort of mania, attempting to vent this energy into any and all ventures. Unfortunate friends on certain social media sites have been bombarded with what I can only assume is Toby’s aggressive motive forces.
I can feel the time ticking by, minute by minute. I am acutely aware of the fact that I have to be awake and aware in less than 6 hours, yet I cannot care, I must vent. Minutes have passed like full hours since I sat at the computer tonight and I have enjoyed every moment

Although I have difficulty (due to certain physiological conditions) in becoming fully inebriated, I can suddenly understand the attraction many writers (and artists in general) have in it. I’ve never been one to take the stresses of daily life seriously, yet there is an unprecedented release, a kind of freedom to this state, as if the world could end right now and I’d be the first to stand at my window, admiring the once-in-a-lifetime view the burning horizon would offer as a global firestorm consumed us all.

As I sip the last of my whiskey, I plan on finishing this post. To end with, I have the following thoughts;
Don’t judge me too harshly, I was blindly exploring the hedonistic pleasures the world has to offer.
Don’t care too much about how others perceive you. I sure as hell won’t. 🙂
Don’t stop your music until you’ve found that perfect song to frame your mood. As you turn the computer off, you’ll smile at the parallels it throws on everything you’ve been thinking about. Drift off to sleep with the final chords echoing in your mind, your brainwaves fading to silence with the final note, a fire dying.

Toby

Your dreams are the kindling to start the great fire of tomorrow…

A Day of Rest

I’ve been quite busy this week. Finding the time to write every day is as exhausting as it is rewarding, so I’m allowing myself the night off. It’s important to know your limits and allow yourself downtime to recuperate, so that you don’t run yourself into the ground (both physically and mentally).

Real life has been quite demanding as well lately. Lots of personal engagements snatching away parcels of time I could have used.
I’ve been lucky for the past few weeks that my work always came at the end of the day, allowing me the morning and early afternoon free to write. That’s going to change soon though, as my shifts are landing slap-bang in the middle of the day. Hopefully, once I get used to it, I’ll be able to find the time to write as much as I can now.

“How did it get so late so soon?”
― Dr. Seuss

I’m so very proud to say that my latest word count is past 5,000, already! I can almost feel the skeleton of the story taking shape.
This has been a very short sort of update. Nevertheless, thank you for taking the time to read. 🙂
Toby

Planning, Drafting and Editing

I have come a long way in such a short amount of time. I can look back and see how much this blog and my writing confidence and quality have grown, yet I can still remember the moment I sat down to begin it all, those few weeks ago, and felt daunted by how much needed to be done.

This week, I have settled into a productive pattern. The first thing I will do when I sit down to write is to open up the draft from the day before. I’ll read over it then use the comment tool to annotate words and phrases with more in-depth explanations. This is really useful to do in so many ways.

• It lets me fill in all the meanings I couldn’t convey with just the main body of text. These annotations allow the plan to follow the story at every step and ensure I don’t forget what’s happening or what I’d intended to happen.
• Sometimes going back to something the next day with a fresh mind and a fresh perspective can help you to see things that you were too tired or busy to see the night before
• It bulks out the amount of text. The way I see it, it’s easier to edit (or rewrite) an existing passage, no matter how awful, than to write it out from scratch.
• Rereading yesterday’s passage and adding in comments and plans puts you in a great mindset to write the next part of the story as you know exactly what you covered and what needs expanding upon.

I have turned 300 words into 1,000 words quite easily using this method, which just feels awesome!

Last week, I wrote up a total of 1,902 words (all of it for the RKDA project). This week, I’m looking to add more than double to that total!
I have found my own source of motivation and it is doing this. It is generating it’s own drive to be furnished and finished and it feels great. 🙂
What do you do to motivate you?
Toby

“Of course motivation is not permanent. But then, neither is bathing; but it is something you should do on a regular basis.”
― Zig Ziglar

 

The Art of Technomancy

Technology is great. I love what you can do nowadays. Tapping away ideas on one device and having the notes easily accessible on another device when the first has gotten lost somewhere under the bed just seems like magic. It feels like such a luxury and I couldn’t have imagined, as I was growing up, that I’d be able to do all these nifty tricks. If you can’t tell, I’m a complete sucker for gadgets and gizmos.

Earlier today, I was showing my mum how to use a Kindle. It’s a struggle that the current generation knows all-too-well. It goes without saying that I could navigate it straight away, and I’ve never used one before. I tried my best to explain all the things she wants to use it for, yet the best I could do was say “If you get stuck with it, just call me. No, use your mobile, a Kindle can’t make phone calls… unless you use Skype, but ohjustforgetisaidanything.” I haven’t heard back yet, so I hope everything’s okay. Still, I’m afraid to ask mum how she’s getting on with it…
It’s hard to imagine, but the current generation will probably end up the same way in 30 or 40 years. Unable to understand or operate the latest tech.

“In the old days, writers used to sit in front of a typewriter and stare out of the window. Nowadays, because of the marvels of convergent technology, the thing you type on and the window you stare out of are now the same thing.”
― Douglas Adams

I suffer, like many people, from a short attention span when using the internet. I do all of my writing on the ol’ PC and I couldn’t honestly tell you how many times I paused my train of thought to check that (1) on the Facebook tab, or to skip the iPod that I’ve taken to keeping in my breast pocket, then skipping the next few tracks because I know I don’t want to listen to the first 3 seconds of them again and have forgotten entirely what the other 5 minutes sound like. Before I know it, I’d forgotten what I was doing.
Abortion is a heavily discussed, controversial topic. One of the many good arguments to ban it is that the child could grow up to be the next leading scientist, pop sensation, prime minister or president. They could matter and, even if that one person doesn’t cure cancer or make a bunch of money for a good cause, they still have every right to be alive.
Facebook does the same thing to ideas. I don’t hate it, it’s a valuable tool in keeping me in touch with my friends and I certainly don’t think it should be banned, but it’s something to think about. That idea I was about to write down when I got distracted by my phone buzzing could have grown up to be a best-seller.

“The trouble with writing fiction is that it has to make sense, whereas real life doesn’t.”
― Iain M. Banks

This post is turning out to be rather quote-heavy. This is not an apology.

“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.”
― Arthur C. Clarke

I enjoy including technology in my writing, since I have such a good grasp of it in real life. You could say it’s inside my comfort zone.
I am happier using technology over magic as a plot device, although a sufficiently good writer could create the same tale using either. The above quote from Arthur C. Clarke has really stuck with me over the years and I’m not afraid to say that I’m planning on making using of it in the RKDA project.

Here’s to all of our current and future projects! *raises a glass*

Thank you for reading, leave a comment below with a shout-out for your favourite fictional gadget. Mine’s the sonic screwdriver from Doctor Who. 🙂
Toby

Who looks at a screwdriver and thinks, “Ooh, this could be a little more sonic”?
― Captain Jack Harkness, Doctor Who