Tag Archives: Lauren Sapala

4 Secrets from My Writing Process

Today’s post is part a Writing Process Blog Hop I was invited into by one of my favorite bloggers, Lauren Sapala.

As part of the Hop, I’m answering four questions about my personal writing process and then passing the baton on to four other bloggers who smear their mad mental wanderings all over the walls.

Here’s my take on my (mostly) private writing life:

What are you working on?
I am finalizing a science fiction story about a woman sent to recover an objet d’art from a gang of thieves. When she discovers the artwork is actually a human being who can make dreams into a reality, she’s forced to choose between the safety of her crew and the independent thoughts of the human race.

How does your work differ from others in the genre?
It’s difficult to answer, because I feel as though I haven’t read enough to make that kind of call.

I will say this: I’m dark, but not cynical. I love gritty, hard stories. I love breakneck pacing and lots of action. I want people to suffer — but I want them to suffer and learn. I want them to suffer and grow. I want them to suffer and still find goodness within themselves. I’m not willing to sacrifice the last tiny sparkle of hope for the sake of shock value.

Why do you write what you write?
For this particular story, I was inspired by Facebook’s privacy controversies. Whenever we ‘like’ something, we get recommendations related to the original topic, and as a result we limit our horizons rather than experiencing that which rises from the chaos of random exposure. We shove ourselves further into self-contained bubbles. On top of that, we post anything and everything that’s on our minds from photographs to vague wishes about love. We volunteer for that trap. It made me wonder what happens to individuals — to our souls — when we submit our thoughts and dreams irrevocably to a collective.

How does your writing process work?
I speed through edits and critiques at any time of day; but when it comes to new material I can’t start until 8pm. I depend on music to orient me. When there’s a certain scene I’m trying to complete, or emotion I’m trying to capture, I need to make sure I’m listening to something that resonates with what I’m trying to express. For this story, I’ve been going back and forth between Hybrid and Joseph Gergis. Gergis got me up to 5,000 words in a single night. I need him to make a new album already.

Now, I pass the baton on to these four insanely talented writer friends:

Fantasy From the Desk of Laura Stephenson
Laura’s book, “A Complete Guide to Being Evil” is a fun story about death, devils and dirty dealings.  Her blog is full of videos about writing, reading, and process. Somewhere on my blog is a picture of her murdering me while she’s dressed as a Norse goddess.

The Art of Almost by Tom O’Connell
Tom’s brilliant blog is an exploration of craft from all angles: the reader, the critic, the student, and the archivist. Check out his flash fiction and guest-speaker recaps. You’re sure to crack a grin.

Hopes and Dreams: My Writing and My Sons by Lillian Csernica
Kind and dedicated author Lillian Csernica blogs about challenges of maintaining a professional writing career while being a good mother for two special needs sons. Lillian writes romance, fantasy, historical fiction, as well as some sci-fi and horror.

TalkToYoUniverse by Juliette Wade
Juliette writes about linguistics and anthropology, science fiction and fantasy, point of view, grammar geekiness, and all of the fascinating permutations thereof. She also hosts Google hangouts that will tell you everything you could ever want to know about world-building! Videos and transcripts are broken up by topic.

 

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These Are The People I Want In My Life

I found this beautiful poem through a friendship with a musician with a beautiful soul. I would not have met her if I didn’t know writers with beautiful souls. Beautiful souls are true, and shine bright, whether they glow with compassion or writhe in their own torment. For me, beauty lies solely in entelechy.

The Invitation
by Oriah
It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain.I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can  disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, ‘Yes.’

It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.