As I promised, Miss Austen and the nightly heavens collide to produce a work of mystical and prognosticatory powers! 

I don’t know why I did this other than that it seemed fun and, to my knowledge, has not been done before (likely for good reason).  My sincerest gratitude to ForeverTeal who, through a coincidence of fortune that shall not further be expounded upon, played a role in the creation of… whatever this is. 

(Let’s make a game of it.  I won’t tell you which person represents which sign, but I’ll describe them really well and give the birthdate ranges that correspond.  See if you can figure out which character typifies which sign.  If you need some help, go to the site that gave me this crazy idea: PBS’s Masterpiece Theater gallery of Austen’s male characters.)

The Zodiac of Manly Men of Jane Austen

Frederick Tilney, Northanger Abbey, March 21st – April 20th: The Frederick Tilney is of an aggressive, cavalier nature yet remains somewhat insular.  He is impulsive, running whichever direction—or after whichever skirt—most entices him, though often this pursuit is more for the sake of the chase than the prize.  From the virtuous to the degenerate, all Frederick Tilneys are dynamos.  The best marshals his pioneering spirit and lust for adventure t0 blaze trails for society to follow; the worst burn paths through any society unfortunate enough to seek to contain him.  Subtlety is never his strength, nor is patience, or undo burden of empathy.  While pro-activity and risk are his hallmarks, a wise Frederick Tilney will temper his perpetual motion so as to not always charge regardless of the level of resistance or consequence to himself or others.

Colonel Christopher Brandon, Sense and Sensibility, April 21st – May 21st: The Christopher Brandon is stolid, dependable, and can be as unchanging and impervious as stone.  His devotion to purpose and fulfillment of his promises, to self and others, is all but certain regardless of circumstance.  This unwavering center makes him a leader who cannot be swayed from his aims, which may lead to seemingly impossible triumphs or catastrophes of such scope as to boggle logic.  When his character is tempered by devotion to others or social principles he becomes a staunch defender and advocate for others; when the opposite, he embodies the extremes of self-centeredness, and is dictatorial and self-gratifying to the point of totalitarianism.  A wise Col. Brandon will endure the foibles of others as he does chaos of situation without succumbing to fury.

George Wickham, Pride and Prejudice, May 22nd - June 21st: The George Wickham is engaging, lively, and the life of any party, from the most intellectual soiree to nights of crude language and cards.  His intellect and charisma are frequently matched with a skill at oratory, which makes him both a gifted storyteller and liar.  Truly skilled at mobilizing and manipulating people, he is nonetheless not well fitted for leadership roles as they require a level of dedication and fixation that is alien to him.  His great variety of interests and appetites sometimes combine with his enthusiasms and vigor to create a perpetual adolescent.  This craven being possesses the appearance of wide ability while actually lacking all depth but a sinister, manipulative core.  A wise George Wickham will delight himself by fostering an interest in others rather than consuming them in moments of impulse, even when they sometimes lack his persistent energy.

Henry Tilney, Northanger Abbey, June 22nd – July 22nd: The Henry Tilney is both caring and prone to appreciate the fantastic, but beneath lies a constancy and strong and stable foundation.  In many ways possessed of a variable personality, there is nonetheless an undercurrent of deeply rooted conviction of some sort in him, whether in morality, or law, or power.  The unpredictability that sometimes typifies his life arises from his instinctive and creative expressions of this underlying foundation.  While his breaking the orthodox can make him a fantastic problem solver, he makes a poor leader as he tends to act in ways that are difficult or even impossible for others to understand and emulate.  When poorly seasoned, this combination of creativity and bedrock conviction results in the despising of others, resulting in schizophrenic paranoia, obsessiveness, and control issues.  A wise Henry Tilney will keep as his guiding principle the notion of balance between his confident center and his quick, adaptable intellect with which he engages the world. 

Fitzwilliam Darcy, Pride and Prejudice, July 23rd – August 22nd: The Fitzwilliam Darcy is a mover of men, an exercise in constant and constructive movement.  No other type is so possessed of the confidence, charisma, adaptability, and determination to inspire obedience and even adoration in others.   He is leadership personified, and leads others even when traveling to destinations he would like to avoid himself.  The Mr. Darcy is the span against which other men are measured, both by themselves and by him.  While frequently charitable in his consideration of others, his good graces are always dependent upon conduct that fits his personal code.  No man can be as narcissistic, domineering, and intractable as a Mr. Darcy whose confidence tips to assurance of infallibility.  A wise Mr. Darcy will remember that even the greatest gifts are often best used in moderation, otherwise those he seeks to sweep into his wake will break themselves against him instead.

William Collins, Pride and Prejudice, August 23rd – September 23rd: The William Collins is a doer of deeds rather than a master of words or performance.  His method is almost mechanical: particular, precise, extremely intelligent, and acutely conscious of both practicality andtheory.  His goal-oriented nature is paired with a humility and even aversion to celebrity that makes him a fine independent worker or coordinator of others and a reluctant leader.  This fixation upon method and result can, when exaggerated, become an extreme judgmentalism that results in constant criticism of others.  The standard becomes the expectation, and any deviation from such is not only a sign of imperfect performance but genuine incapability and dishonest intent.  To avoid such didactic judgment of the entire world, a wise Mr. Collins will not examine possible future problems before they have come, assume the worst about a deviation from the expected before seeing a result, or claim to have established a lone perfected method of achieving any end.

Charles Bingley, Pride and Prejudice, September 24th – October 23rd: The Charles Bingley is imminently likable, most significantly because of the common and easy affection and regard he feels—and shows—for others.  He is a peacemaker, well equipped to use his charm and romantic sensibilities to diffuse tension and avoid conflict, for diplomacy rather than leadership.  His extreme optimism makes him a man of significant endurance, able to shake off circumstances that would cripple others.  However, if his idealistic nature is allowed too free a rein, he may become unmoored, moved by impulse and improper exercise of momentary passions.  A Charles Bingley lost to innate romance is a constant victim and victimizer, a slave to gratifications without understanding of consequence.  His life is likely to be spent constructively diffusing conflict or destructively avoiding it at all costs.  A wise Mr. Bingley will consider the counsel of others yet make his own decisions, seek for the good while admitting the bad, and establish a level of principle where even he will not compromise.

Henry Crawford, Mansfield Park, October 24th – November 22nd: The Henry Crawford is more a force than a man, a configuration of a number of different virtues—intellect, passion, spirituality, sensuality—whose total is always a rare potency: power of feeling, or speech, or action, of attraction, of virtue or vice, or even all at once.  He is a being of extreme emotions, both positive and negative, that can sometimes be hidden but never dismissed.  His every action is intense, an outgrowth of strong purpose and expression of self.  If he becomes a leader he does so almost unconsciously, as it is difficult for him to place much investment outside himself and his own exploration of self.  More frequently possessed of genius and ravenous curiosity than all others, his life is marked by grand events and actions that can be both supernally beneficial or demonically destructive.  A Mr. Crawford whose great gifts and potency combine in unfettered self-service becomes an inferno capable of consuming all and everything he comes across.  To avoid this fate as human vortex, a wise Mr. Crawford will realize that the scope of his life will be measured by his influence on those around him, not his utter remaking of them, and that power allows for great reciprocity rather than just domination.

John Thorpe, Northanger Abbey, November 23rd – December 21st: The John Thorpe is an eager embracer of life and all that comes with it.  While often bright and capable of deep thought and wit, he is  rarely obsessive about the complexities of life or prone to fixate on perplexities.  His is an appreciative nature which finds a wealth of interesting, beautiful, and enjoyable delights wherever he goes.  He is direct and honest in his communication, which often inspires trust in others but rarely leads to his developing a following as his affection for freedom and independence is too great.  While his good nature and spontaneity often make others feel comfortable in his presence, if overindulged he may become erratic, foolish, and forever swept along by the frivolous.  A wise Mr. Thorpe will anchor his effervescent nature with strong principles and temper his enthusiasm for the new with his experience.

Edmund Bertram, Mansfield Park, December 22nd - Januray 20th: The Edmund Bertram is a diligent realist, able to overcome a variety of challenges because of his discipline, pragmatism, and strong goal orientation.  Where other men would shirk from truth or become flippant at the difficulties of life, he is buoyed up by a cautious but innate good nature.  He has the rare ability to see genuine humor in even difficult circumstances.  While not particularly adept at inspiring others, he is often liked and imminently trusted for his firm understanding and patience with others.  As both an ambitious and cautious man, he is more likely to reach profound goals than many others by being methodical and consistant in his efforts.  His strong center of gravity does risk consuming him, however, wrapping him up in the difficulties of reality more tightly than his inherent humor can balance.  This pessimist can reach the very deepest depressive depths, which results in near suicidal fatalism and utter incapacity of the charitable.  To escape such a fate a wise Edmund Bertram will stay conscious of the light side of things and be generous when judging the efforts of others, and will not allow the vicissitudes of life to appear to him as inescapably systematic.

George Knightley, Emma, Januray 21st – February 19th: The George Knightley is a perpetual seeker of truth, a man driven both to explore the natures of those around him and of his own mind and soul.  He makes the very best and truest of friends and is more able than any other to return good for evil so long as one gives honest effort at camaraderie.   Capable and wise in the ways of the world, mind, heart, he is a source of excellent counsel and sound judgment.  His intellect is such that he sometimes sees superior possibilities earlier than others, but is patient enough to steer them in these directions even if they make mistakes.  This combines with his natural generosity to make him a fine administrator or counselor, though his leadership is usually not of a supreme nature.  His capacity and comfort in society belie an underlying independence, a lonesome quality that he never quite abandons.  This hidden core is rarely communicated, and if hidden too deeply and allowed to grow to unhealthy proportions can turn his gentle nature harsh.  Patience becomes frequent irritation, kindness becomes callousness, peacemaking gives way to constant opposition, all as his secret inner orientation override his faith in anything other than himself.  A wise George Knightley will keep his personal/social balance steady by always seeking to participate constructively in the spheres in which he walks rather than observing while detached.

Edward Ferrars, Sense and Sensibility, February 20th – March 20th: The Edward Ferrars is the most gentle, kind, and willingly adaptive of all men.  No other has the same persistent ability to rise above the baseness around him to treat people with civility and respect regardless of situation.  He is also extremely empathetic, so much so that others may feel he is gifted with supernatural understandings and awareness of the thoughts and concerns of others.  While unlikely to galvanize or lead others frequently, he is very likely to preserve associations and groups by inspiring unity and understanding during times of great conflict.  While maliciousness is all but impossible for him, his otherworldly nature can reach the excessive, removing him from reality all together.  Thus unhinged he becomes incapable of facing problems, refuses to communicate with anyone, and becomes easily taken advantage of and manipulated.  A wise Edward Ferrars will balance his great heart and soul by strengthening his mind, and remember that helping others is not possible while denying the tragic realities of human experience.

Two more bits of news to announce for writer in the Salt Lake area. 

First, the bad: it looks like there’s been some turmoil at UVU’s annual Forum on Children’s Literature.  I won’t go into the details as that might be airing people’s dirty laundry in public, but I will say that if any of you have registered to attend or were considering it, you may want to contact the organizers and demand information on all the changes.  My understanding is that everything from guests of honor to panelists and breakout presenters are up in the air at this point.  The conference also looks to be far smaller this year than it has in the past, and may shift its focus away from writing to education all but completely.  If you registered for this conference or are considering it, be sure that you find out exactly what the experience may be like.  It’s coming up in about two weeks, so you’ll want to look into it quickly, especially if you’re considering asking for a refund.

The next bit of news is far more pleasant, and is quite an opportunity: on March 10th from 6:30 to 9:30 p.m., Dan Wells, author of I Am Not a Serial Killer, will be presenting a workshop on Story Structure and Pacing at Weber State University.  The event will be held at the Hurst Center, Legacy Hall, and will cost $10 or $20 at the door.  I know Dan and let me assure you that he knows his stuff.  He’s easily one of the top writing craftsmen in the local area, no joke.  Taking a workshop from most other writers who are as capable as Dan could easily cost four times what you’ll pay at the door for this event.  If you’re working on your craft and can make it to the WSU area, it’ll be well worth your time and money. 

Next time something… well, I was going to say special, but I think I’ll stick with just something.  Hint in the form of a story problem: If Jane Austin is traveling from New York to Los Angeles at the pace of your standard barouche and collides with astrology in the midnight sky somewhere above Akron, what do you get?  

What do you call a bunch of librarians?  A pack?  A mob?  I hope it’s not a murder (it is for crows, you see).  Next month I’m presenting at the UELMA (Utah Educational Library Media Association) Spring Conference, where I’ll begin the session by pointing out that Charles Dickens’s Great Expectations and R.L. Stine’s Welcome to Dead House are essentially (in terms of archetype) the same story.  I’ve never known any books to generate such antipathy in elementary educators as the Goosebumps books, so I’m a little worried that the session will end prematurely in some violent episode. 

If it doesn’t, I’ll claim much more than a foundational sameness between Great Expectations and Welcome to Dead House; I’ll argue for the following texts being riffs on the same elemental story: Pride and Prejudice, The Harry Potter Series, The Graveyard Book, Holes, Much Ado about Nothing, Fablehaven, A Wrinkle in Time, The Tale of Despereaux, Last of the Mohicans, Dracula, Dune, Little Women, The Illiad, and the books of 1 and 2 Samuel from the Old Testament (the story of King David).  And just for the record, I am NOT making a comment on the veracity or lack of such of scripture.  Archetypal theory is about narrative, not fiction; it addresses the structure humans apply to everything, including facts and events, in order to construct meaning.

Sound implausible, all those books being the same story?  Well, if you’re not a librarian you may have to figure out how and why this is true on your own.  Then again, once I have a presentation in my toolbox I’m not one to let it rust in there.  If things go well I’ll see about doing the presentation other places.  Then the world can share in the wonderful knowledge that Mr. Darcy is Darth Vader, Japanese Kabuki is only technically and cosmetically different from classical Ballet, and not only do all the world’s great religions believe very similar things, but that these things are taught using the same story that undergirds life.

I’ll let you know how things go next month, as always.  But next on the docket is LTUE!

Tangent:…

(Tangent from the tangent: If one is of a schizophrenic persuasion, chasing impulse and flighty ideas like a dog spinning at cars on the freeway, is any thought really tangential? It’s not like we have a strong, solid baseline from which to diverge. Well, back to the initial thought.)

Isn’t it cool that storytellers rule the world? I find that truth to be totally awesome, to use a Dashnerism. (Dashnerism: noun—A word used with great frequency by James Dashner and which is, without exception, completely incongruous with the world of Jane Austin, unlike James’s name; common Dashnerisms include “totally”, “awesome”, and “totally awesome”.)

What do I mean? Simply that story is structure, as William Goldman says. This doesn’t mean that screenplays include three acts or that novels wrap up with a denouement, no more than consciousness means having the physical ability to sense the outside world. The truth is so much greater and grander and unfathomable than that. The structure of story is nothing less than meaning; story is the interrelating of stuff (anything really) in such a way that relevance can be drawn from the raw material of life, thought, and imagination.

I’ve been thinking about this since teaching an adult learning class on writing last night. (Thanks to Brenda Bench and her class for an interesting and enjoyable evening, as always.) The presentation was on using POV to achieve the three objectives of story simultaneously, and I got to talking about how we can only make sense of anything by incorporating it into a story. Here’s an example: China has a population of about 1.2 billion; the U.S. population is around 300 million. So tell me what that means. No, “China has more people that the U.S.,” doesn’t count. That’s like saying red and blue are different colors: meaningless. Can’t do it, can you—at least, not without placing these numbers into a story, such as: Because of their massive workforce, China will supplant the U.S. this century as the world’s greatest economic power because of its power; or, as environmental destruction and global climate change continue to intensify, China’s massive population will result in far greater negative consequences than the U.S.’s smaller citizenry, which is why China will not overcome the U.S. as the world’s dominant economy. One story is the story of environmentalism, one is of means of production. What are these, really, but perspectives or points of view and the narratives that go along with such?

No fact matters in isolation, only in conjunction with other facts. The structure of aligning information is story. Story is the substance of who we are as individuals, cultures, religions, nations, and even as a species. With that being so, a storyteller becomes something a good deal more than the proverbial daydreamer detached from things that really matter. We’re more akin to superheroes, possessed of mystical powers to manipulate reality according to our desires and designs. All the truly influential individuals in history have understood this or have benefited from someone who did, whether politicians, scientists, artists, business people, philosophers, or whatever. History isn’t just written by the winners; the meaning of life and its substance is created by the tellers of tales.

Which leaves only one question: am I, Clint Johnson, also known as R.D. Henham and a slue of less respectful appellations I won’t mention, a superhero or supervillain? There is a certain romanticism about being bad….

May one be a  super-anti-hero? Now come on, there’s no way a question that important could be considered tangential.

***This post really should have been written last week, so I apologize for the tardiness, James.***

Please, as you read this blog post, do so with the ringing sound of trumpets echoing in the background.  For I here announce the (week-late) official, long-foretold release of The Maze Runner, a literary sojourn that will take my good friend (and non-Jane Austin character) James Dashner up at least several notches on the carven totem of children’s fiction luminaries.

Haven’t read it yet, but I will.  What I can tell you is that this book took a long, complicated, and, I’m certain, angel-blessed pathway to Random House, where it found a good home at the top of their fall list, where it released last week.  Domestically.  I’m not sure when it releases in the seven (I think it’s seven) other languages that have already been contracted.  For anyone who has read and loved The Hunger Games, check out The Maze Runner, as I’ve heard it’ll please the palate.  

Currently, James is in the middle of a several week tour to a number of different states, which has me green in the gills.  I’m sure that by the end he’ll be nearly dead from exhaustion, but that tempers my envy only a tinsy bit.  Well, if imitation is the greatest form of flattery, then envy must be a co-captain.  Here’s to James and The Maze Runner, which I hope sells almost a billion copies—but only almost.  Yes, my goodwill definitely has limits, and beyond these borders pettiness reigns!

Just received my (possible) schedule at CONduit next month. This is only a first look, but I thought I’d share. What the… I’m doing a workshop? Better decide on a topic, huh. (After a month-long point of view essay, that sounds a likely prospect.) Anyway, expect this list of events to narrow. I’ll probably end up doing 2 and 3 panels and the workshop. The more the better. Oh, and it’s unlikely I’ll be there Sunday. Sorry to be such a tease, not doing everything, everytime, (for or to everyone, take your pick)—though I really am more palatable in small doses.

Anyway, here are the possible panels and their times (all subject to change, of course):

Fri @ 1:00—My Workshop. (Likely on point of view and triple duty writing. Come ask me what that means in person.)

Fri @ 2:00—Writing Evil Overlords. (Sounds fun.)

Fri @ 3:00—Culture-Building in F&SF: How Do You Create a Viable and Consistent Culture. (The must have of every speculative fiction convention.)

Fri @ 4:00—It’s Not Your Parents’ Fiction:Writing for the YA/Children’s Market. (It’s still weird to be speaking about this as I only started writing for kids on a kind of desperate fluke.)

Sat @ 10:00—How Real Should Historical Fiction or Fantasy Be? (A better question is how real should reality be, and why can’t it ever manage to pull it off.)

Sun @ 1:00—Worldbuilding 101: What Do You Need to Know to Create Your Own Fictional World? (Hoping I don’t get this one and culture building. That would be like coloring two items blue-green and green-blue; I’d have to pretend they aren’t the same thing.)

Sun @ 4:00—Aspiring Writer’s Q&A. (Always has the potential of being interesting.)

Also, here are just a few names of other attendees you should know, and probably do:

Michael R. and Judi Collings: Michael is a retired professor who taught at Pepperdine and one of my favorite panelists. From poetry to Stephen King (and yes, he’ll cover both at CONduit), he ranges as widely as any academic I’ve met without a hint of arrogance. The only nicer person you’ll ever meet is his wife.

Dave Wolverton/Farland (whose doing a special presentation Sat at 1:00, by the way—I’m not sure as whom, but we’ll see). Dave is one of those writers so nice they named him twice.

Jessica Day George, writer of arguably the best embroidery-based novel ever!

James Dashner, who is a great guy but nowhere near as impressive as his name, so don’t be disappointed. He is not, despite the sound, a Jane Austin character.

Rebecca Shelley, fellow assistant scribe in the Dragon Codices.

Julie Wright, who is not a bubbly and adorable sixteen-year-old, though you’ll never believe me when you see her.

Paul Genesse, a friend who is having a book release Fri from 3:00 – 6:00. Get a signed copy or four.

Kathleen Dalton Woodbury, another favorite panelist of mine who happens to have impeccable taste in bracelets/bracers/gauntlets and the like.

Eric Swedin, writer, professor, and friend from Weber St.

Howard Taylor, guest of honor and newly minted Hugo nominee, whose book launch will be Sat at 4:00.

Brandon Sanderson (Sun only), the man brave enough to dare Robert Jordan’s shoes—who has, incidentally, discovered a way to rejuvenate the body completely through writing, thus eliminating all need for sleep.

And Dan Wells (Sun only), who is not a serial killer, and least if you ask him.

A few days ago Scarlet Knight (now to be known as Carolyn, who is a very nice lady I met in person last week) asked this:

Okay, Clint I have a question for you, and you can answer it any time. You mentioned that you focus in on a writing area you want to improve on and then work on it until it is better. I am curious about the whole process you take with this. As a writer, I want to improve upon my writing and am wondering the best way to do this. Thanks! =)

This doesn’t seem to need an entire essay, so I’ll answer you here on this post, Carolyn (and who says that’s less rocking than Scarlet?).  So, my basic methodology for improving my writing.  Hmm.  I guess it would go something like this…

I just wrote the methodology I used to improve my writing skill and deleted it.  Really, I got to step seven and realized that what I’d written, while perhaps witty, wouldn’t do anyone reading this the least amount of good whatsoever.  So instead of telling you things I’ve tried, I will tell you what I eventually found worked for me and what I suggest others do.

1) Read.  It seems simple, but this is where you have to start.  You read not so much to acquire skill with language (though that’s vital too) but because reading trains your mind into the method of story and communication.  It also lets you into particular discourse communities.  What I mean by this is that different groups have different versions of language; a teenage daughter and her middle-aged father both speak English (or Dinka or whatever), but they don’t speak the same English.  Similarly, readers of traditional romance novels speak a different language (a symbolic system for communicating thought and concept) than readers of epic fantasy.  It is only by reading within a genre, contemporarily and classically, than we as writers can become fluent in the ideas, values, and shared meanings of our readers.  If you don’t read (and engage in other forms of story consumption), you never acquire the storyteller’s taste.  If you don’t read in the genre in which you’ll write, you do not understand your reader, so you can’t create a meaningful experience for her.  (This all stems from reader response literary theory, which isn’t all that complicated but I don’t have time to cover it here.  Just remember this: your reader will take your text and build their own version of the story.  If the pieces you give them are too alien or old hat, they cannot build a treasured final product.  You need to know your reader to give them narrative material they can build with.)

2) Write.  This seems as simple as #1, but it’s just as important.  To develop skill writing, you can’t spend all your time researching or reading books on technique and composition, or reading, or revising past works.  The fact is, every one of us has a lot of bad writing in us before we reach the well of good stuff.  The only way to get through the bad is to spew it out.  Writing lets you find your voice, which essentially means the style that most effectively communicates your perspective to others in a meaningful way.  You have to search to find this, and so any writing that communicates to others is helpful.  Write letters, and journal entries, and essays, and short stories, and poetry, and anything else you might conceivably show another person.  Any time you write something with the intent of being read, you develop your skill.  With that established, here are some sub-points about writing:

• 2a) Write the form you most want to write.  Mostly, this means novels, as far more writers aspire to be novelists than essayists of short story writers.  You’d be surprised, then, how many spend little or no time writing in the form they aspire to make their career in.  If you want to write novels, write novels and finish them.  Perfecting three chapters can’t make you a novel writer.  Writing one crappy novel, beginning to end, is far better.  Likewise, if you want to write short stories, write them.  Or essays, or poetry, or whatever.  Write what you want to publish, and devote as much time as possible to writing in this form.
• 2b) Write in other forms.  If you want to be a novelist, don’t avoid writing short stories.  Try poetry.  Write in a number of different forms, from 100,000 novels to 250 flash pieces to on-the-fly blog posts.  Write in a number of different rhetorical situations and you’ll learn that each demands something a little—or a lot—different.  This will hammer into you the consideration of your audience and awareness of writing for rhetorical effect. 
• 2c) Use short works to experiment.  Novels are huge investments of time, so I encourage people to try new tactics and compositional choices in short works, such as stories or essays.  Another benefit of this is that a short work can be composed according to Poe’s “Unity of Effect,” meaning everything in the entire piece is in unified service to a single overriding principle or theme.  Thus, if you wanted to explore the potential of short, choppy sentences of description delivered in bunches (as I did in my short story “Modern Woman”), that choice becomes the dominant technique of the whole piece.  This makes it really easy to explore the possibilities of any one compositional element.  By writing a number of short works specifically designed to develop techniques, you can focus greatly on each tool in the toolbox (King’s metaphor), improve it, and then adopt it into your ever-evolving skill, style, and voice.
• 2d) However you experiment with your voice and style, make sure you consciously develop the following techniques: writing across the point of view spectrum (especially in first and third person, present and past tense, with third person close as well as more distant, and with a narrator of some sort—not omniscient); writing with little or no exposition; writing exposition in a way that is enjoyable (much harder to do than most think); writing from the perspective of adults and children, and people of different genders, classes, nationalities, etc.; writing the same scene from multiple points of view; writing a plot in a single point of view where the character is aware of things happening “off screen” as it were; writing a story that cannot be told from a single point of view; write in every different genre you’ve read in and has interested you; write fiction and non-fiction; write primarily dialogue; write primarily word-for-word thought; write primarily action; write both what is going to happen stories (dramas) and why/how did this happen stories (mysteries); write alliteratively; write without using alliteration; write using dialect; write in different time periods; finally, write anything you’ve never written before if it seems different, interesting, or intimidating. 
• 2e) Finally, write in imitation when you are starting out.  If you read someone whose writing you adore, copy it.  Really, word for word if you like.  I liked to try to write as much like them as I could, from diction to theme.  For example, most formally educated creative writers have a Hemmingway/Carver story somewhere in their history (including me, though I’m not a model of advanced education).  I also have Austin and Dickens stories, and even one Joyce story.  What draws you to writers is their strengths, and imitating them will change you in these areas.  You’ll never write like they do—though you may end up writing just as well or better.  You’ll find that as time goes on, you’ll find less and less of other people’s writing so fresh and new that you want to imitate it.  This isn’t because the writers out there are losing their touch; it’s because you’re gaining your’s, and you’re not as easy to impress as you once were.  At this point, your own style will be mature enough that it isn’t affected by the gravity of the larger planets in the system of literature. 
• 2f) Most importantly, don’t ever be satisfied with your writing before you’ve agonized over it.  If you write without really caring about producing your best work, it doesn’t sharpen your skill.  This is the difference between most aspiring writers and those who are destined to make it: whether or not they waste time.  If you write five books, always straining for your very best, your fifth book will be vastly better than your first.  I promise.  If you write fifty books in satisfaction, the fiftieth will, for all intents and purposes, be the first book.  Demand that you improve your skills.

3) Learn at the theoretical level.  Whether you take classes at colleges and universities (where you must promise never to let anyone dictate to you what is or is not “good writing”) or read books on writing (this is how I learned), take the experience of others and learn from it.  Try to develop a keen understanding of writing, and language, and story, and the business of publishing.  All of these will one day evolve into active knowledge or the knowledge of practice, but understanding the theory and concept is helpful as well.  Don’t every take anything you hear as law.  The only writing rules (with a few exceptions) that are truly sacrosanct are the ones that work for you.  Thus drink deeply of the methodology you hear from others, but only adopt and internalize what you find works for you through experimentation and your own sense of objective.

4) Critique other writers.  While being critiqued is helpful, especially when you start out, training your critical eye is most important.  When you are in a critique group, learn to be honest and astute in your feedback without being overtly critical.  Learn to recognize the difference between what isn’t working and what isn’t your favored style or voice.  When you find something that isn’t working for you, demand that you figure out why.  Don’t take the position that certain things are just bad or good; think in terms of effect.  What compositional choice in the writing produced an undesirable result?

5) Join writing groups.  Associating with people with the same interests is important for reinforcement, encouragement, and networking.  Often these groups sponsor lectures and workshops that can be very helpful.  The more interconnected your approach to developing your writing skill (meaning the more ways you approach your evolution as a writer), the more likely you are to develop.

6) Don’t attach yourself too greatly to any one piece of writing.  Your objective should be to become a master writer and storyteller (even if we never reach this level, it must always be the ultimate goal), not to write the next great American novel.  Never, ever conceptualize your skill and identity in terms of a single work.  Your foremost goal should always be developing yourself and your skill, which will mean moving on from one project to the next.  Don’t devote ten years to perfecting one manuscript, because it won’t happen.  Write ten good manuscripts in ten years, and I promise you the tenth will be better than the first ever could have been, no matter how much work you put in.

7) Set your goals.  Decide what it is you want from your writing.  Then look at all the other options that this will cost you.  You want to publish and make money?  You’ve given up your right to total control of your creative endeavors.  Want to write a niche subject that fascinates you?  Understand that your chances of living off your writing, no matter its quality, is almost nil.  Whenever we truly make up our minds on something we discard other options.  Ours is a culture that values having many options, and likes to pretend that they all are equal.  You cannot do this if you want to truly develop as a writer.  You need to decide what it is you really want, accept that you’ll have to give up some things to get this, and then pursue it with all your vigor and ability. 

Lastly) Defy discouragement and complacency.  The only way we ever stop developing is to give up, either entirely or abandoning the rigor that refines us from a lesser ability to greater advancement.  The moment writing becomes easy, in any aspect, you can be certain you’ve stopped developing.  Don’t aspire to comfort; seek improvement.  Satisfaction in writing should always be “this is as good as I can do right now, so I’ll move on to a new challenge and new learning experience.”  In short, never lose the need to be and do better.   

I hope there’s something in here that helps, Carolyn—and anyone else reading this.  If you have questions or want clarification, please comment.  I can’t stress this enough: I believe almost every single person has the capacity to publish.  Writing skill is learned through work and dedication; it isn’t a matter of raw talent.  I know Stephen King disagrees with me.  Many others do as well.  But I am confident that through good old hard work, the people who read this can develop professional level writing skills.  That’s a promise.  I take comfort in this is because, in the long run, I control my own destiny.  The reason I’ll be successful is I can outwork my competition.  Any of you that can do the same will have success as well.  It’ll be nice to meet and share old stories from the top of the hill.  See you there.

I’m trying to finish up my first essay on writing and story for the essay section of the site (for members only, so sign up!), so I’m going to delay my second installment of the history of GDC for next time. But I couldn’t delay posting about James’s new book any longer.

For those of you who don’t know, James Dashner is a fine writer of children’s fiction who also happens to be a good friend of mine. He’s a much better friend to me than I am to him, actually; a number of times he’s gone out on a limb to put in a good word for me or offered fine advice about this business. I’d be a true ingrate if I procrastinated mention of his new book any longer, so here it is: The Hunt for Dark Infinity, book 2 of The 13th Reality series, is now available for purchase.

For those who read middle grade fantasy and adventure, check it out.  You won’t be disappointed–especially if you’re a reader who appreciates a book for children where the parents aren’t dead, evil, or dedicatedly stupid.   Oh, and wait with baited breath for James’s first installment in the Maze Runner series (newly purchased trilogy by Delacorte, an imprint of Random House).  I think it comes out later this year.

Now, having said all these nice things, I must sour the grapes with honesty: Mr. Dashner’s name is false advertising.  He is not, as certainly sounds, a character from a Jane Austin novel.  He has precious little in common with Mr. Darcy–especially the Colin Firth version.  For those reluctant to give up the dream for reality, just ask James’s lovely wife, Lynette.  You should have heard her laugh when I mentioned the misleading phonetics of her husband’s name. 

But his books are still good, so go read them.

Teaser for next post: Back to GDC history–what it’s like to actually publish a first book.