Category Archives: Rants

We at the Dogpatch are huge fans of that Writer Fellow, Mike Allegra. Well, he has a writing contest in the works on his wildly popular blog, HEYLOOKAWRITERFELLOW! Polish up your pens and head on over to Writer Fellow’s blog to put in your two cents worth about this contest.

Source: Win a Major Award! (Maybe!)

Last year (2014, for those of you as disoriented by the fact that we are in the 2010’s as I am) I drafted Book III in my Dreams of QaiMaj series during NaNoWriMo. I was pretty proud of having drafted 100K words in just one month, and I was reasonably sure that I had a decent draft, too. I planned to give myself a year for necessary revisions and edits, then release the book in spring of 2016.

However, the manuscript of Book III has been sitting under my desk for a year, glaring balefully and snarling every time I approach. This intimidating behavior has thrust me into the depths of perhaps my greatest year of procrastination ever. Which, for me, is pretty bad, considering that I’m the Queen of Procrastination to begin with.

With that spring 2016 deadline looming, I’ve been forced to confront my procrastination problem. The first step is recognizing it.

This is what procrastination looks like . . .

Compulsive organization. While they are the most impressive visually, the spices are actually the tail end of a year-long purge and organization binge. Many trips to Goodwill were made, many precious heirlooms carelessly tossed aside, many organizing solutions purchased and filled. I can honestly say I am the most organized I have ever been in my life. Thank you, Book III.

This is what procrastination looks like . . .

Shopping! Granted, I’m a starving artist so most of my purchases are at thrift stores, but I’m pretty sure my wardrobe has doubled this year.

This is what procrastination looks like . . .

Baking. You know the procrastination has gotten really bad when your own mother jokingly calls you Martha Stewart. For the record, I’d rather she were jokingly calling me Ursula K Leguin, but this is where procrastination takes us, folks.

This is what procrastination looks like . . .

Blogging! I recently reached my 70th post on my 101 Things I Wish I’d Known Before I Wrote My First Book blog. Blogging is particularly insidious because it’s easy to think, hey, at least I’m writing something! Plus, blogging is also marketing, so I’m marketing and writing at the same time. Why would I ever do anything but blog?

This is what procrastination looks like . . .

Compulsively publishing stuff. Why put out the next book when you can publish short stories you’ve already written? I went from one title to ten in less than a week. Unfortunately, a week isn’t a lot of time in this year’s epic procrastination journey. So I had to find something else to do . . .

This is what procrastination looks like . . .

Marketing! “Something else” was scheduling a two-week $0.99 promo on Dream of a Vast Blue Cavern on every available ebook retailer and taking the time to book an advertising spot every day of the promo! Go ahead, contribute to my procrastination madness! You can read a great book at a great price and encourage the procrastination devil whispering in my ear, “see, you’re selling books. Who needs to write when you’re selling books?”

This is what procrastination looks like . . .

Planning. Wait, that’s starting to look suspiciously like working on Book III!

This is what procrastination looks like . . .

Wait, what is happening here? Am I actually . . . Am I actually starting to revise Book III? This is clearly no longer procrastination.

Maybe the story of my year of procrastination will have a happy ending, after all. Still, I find myself wondering, what went wrong?

Hypothesis #1: NaNoWriMo made me arrogant.

Yeah, I’m pretty sure this happened. My success made me think, I can write a novel in a month, so clearly I can revise a novel in a month, so clearly I’m basically done, and I don’t need to look at this again until Spring of 2016.

Hypothesis #2: My Editor’s comments gave that snarling beast some sharp and shiny teeth.

This probably happened too. The feedback was honest and spot on, but it certainly didn’t make it any easier to approach Book III. Especially when the depth of the issues made it clear that it wouldn’t be a quick and easy revision process.

Hypothesis #3: When I finished drafting Book III I was too close to the material to look at it objectively.

Now that a year has passed, I’m hoping  I can do some of the necessary “kill your darlings” work that both I and my Editor agree is needed to make this a great book. There’s no way I could have done that a year ago.

Hypothesis #4: You can’t stop procrastinating when you don’t know you’re procrastinating.

To be honest, most of the year I thought for sure I was right on track. I didn’t question the compulsive organizing, the baking, or the blogging. It wasn’t until I realized I have just four months to not only revise but also edit, format, send to beta readers, plan the launch and distribution of Book III that I started to wonder what I was thinking. Especially when I’m still having thoughts like, “I’ll get to it in January. January will be a good month,” and “Maybe I should draft Book IV first. You know, just to have it done.”

So what next?

I’m thinking about making a carrot torte for the holidays, maybe learning how to cut flowers out of carrots to decorate it. Then I have a jigsaw puzzle I’ve been eyeing for awhile . . . oh wait, you mean with Book III?

Ahem well yes. I’ve been taking steps here at procrastinators anonymous. If I’ve learned anything this year, it’s that baby-steps are my path out of procrastination. Set a small, manageable task, accomplish it, then start the next task. Basically, it comes down to fooling the part of myself that’s afraid of that snarling beast. “Oh, no we’re not going to re-write the whole thing, no. Just read one chapter and make a few notes, that’s all. OK, now read one more chapter . . .”

Using that method, I managed to read through the whole manuscript and made detailed notes for revision.

Then I stalled out again. I realized that a large part of the problem is that I need to re-examine the over-arching vision of the series as a whole. To that end, I’ve been re-reading The Plot Whisperer, looking for insight on how to shape not only the plot of book III but the final part of the Dreams of QaiMaj series.

With tips from that great resource in hand, I’ve been reviewing my notes on the series and re-planning it based on some changes that my Editor and I discussed regarding the outcome of Book III. This might sound very much like more procrastination, but it is actually generating a lot more energy and confidence for me to finally tackle the revisions I need to make to Book III.

Next, this very week in fact, I intend to corral the beast, risking life and limb, and start making actual edits in the actual file of Book III. And now that I’ve stated it publicly, I can’t back out.

To recap, here is what I’ve learned about procrastination this year:

• It’s usually caused by a deep, visceral fear of failure
• It leads to a highly organized, well-catered, haute-couture lifestyle
• It can have the additional positive effect of delaying your project until you actually have the distance and objectivity to do it well
• You can’t stop until you admit you have a problem
• The way out of procrastination (for me) is baby-steps
• Consulting resources and stepping back to look at the big picture also help
• I’m probably never going to be able to write and publish four books a year, at this rate
• The fear of public humiliation if I don’t follow through is greater than the fear of failure
• I’m pretty sure I can start that jigsaw puzzle and finish revising Book III this month

Do you procrastinate? If so what kind of fun things manifest from your particular brand of procrastination? How do you un-procrastinate, when it comes time to do so?

Selah J Tay-Song is living proof that if you persevere, you’ll catch your dreams. She decided to be an author at the age of six. Today she is the author of the Dreams of QaiMaj series, an epic fantasy series described as magical, poetic and engrossing. When she’s not writing, she’s stalking the urban river otters that live less than a mile from her home in the Pacific Northwest.

Author website: www.selahjtaysong.com

Book website: www.dreamsofqaimaj.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/selahjtaysong

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/selah.taysong

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/selahjtaysong

Mindfulness is the buzz word, isn’t it? Or is it just because I live in California?

I attended a yoga class last week. The lesson for the day, including climbing like spiders up the wall, was about mindful eating. Each of us was offered a raisin—yes, singular—and instructed to hold it close to our eyes and observe its wrinkles and crusty sparkles.

Then we smelled it. Essence of sugary, ripe jam.

Then we were asked to listen to it. “Horton Hears A Who,” anyone?

Yes, we listened to those tiny raisin voices as we held them close to our ears and rolled them between our thumbs and forefingers. Mine squeaked.

“Please, I know you’re going to eat me. Can we just get this over with?”

Yoga is a cruel sport, isn’t it?

Finally, we were asked to put those raisins on our tongues and roll them around in our mouths for a full minute before being allowed to chew.

In much less than one minute, I knew I didn’t have the mindful moral fiber it takes to be a true yogi. I wanted to chew that soggy, yet crystalline, drop of zero taste and swallow. Then I wanted to grab a whole handful of those little squeakers, stuff my mouth, and grind away, turning them into a sweet mass of gumminess. That, my friends, is how you get the real flavor of raisins.

The solitary fleck of grit in the universe of my mouth was—

“Chew!” said the instructor. “Chew! Chew! Chew!”

My train had already left the station.

Let’s move the focus from my flawed moral character to how “one vs. many” plays out with language. Despite the lovely alliteration, repetition and raisins should not be bedfellows.

A whole handful of examples (adverbs being one) will often not make the experience that much sweeter, richer, or more textured for the reader. It usually achieves the opposite. Instead of strengthening the effect, the writer steeps weak tea. Instead of making the prose rich, the writer sews the empty pockets of a pauper. Instead of making the prose more muscular, the writer births a 98 pound weakling.

Shoot me now before I have to read another cliché in a string of clichés.

The moral of the story is this. Whenever you’re tempted to:

• create characters whose purpose is redundant (or worse, nonexistent), eliminate or combine two or more characters to achieve the same effect.
• indulge in repetitive sentences, paragraphs, scenes, and chapters that don’t move the story forward, cut and/or combine.
• use weak verbs “strengthened” by adverbs, select strong verbs and cut the adverbs.
• create weak dialogue and surrounding exposition that relies on adverbs (commonly called “two-by-fours”) or repetition to get the point across, take the opposite approach. Dialogue means you’re in scene. Show one single telling detail (not two or three or four) that conveys the essence of the character or character’s reaction, thoughts, or physical trait. Extra points for doing this via dialogue instead of in the exposition used to anchor characters in space.
• give characters multiple actions that convey the same meaning, select one action that’s unusual to convey the essence of your point.

If there is a critical moment or action that begs repeating for fear your reader won’t “get it,” think and think again and then think some more about whether it’s necessary, or whether it’s a matter of finding a better way to say it once to make it unforgettable for the reader.

And to remind myself of these points when I’m revising, I’m going to breathe and think of: