Tag: Ray Bradbury

  • Raised by Giants

    “…we are like dwarfs on the shoulders of giants, so that we can see more than they…not by virtue of any sharpness of sight on our part…but because we are carried high and raised up by their giant size.” – John of Salisbury, paraphrasing Bernard of Chartes

    Writers are readers, so I have been told. Indeed, every writer I know reads with an insatiable appetite for the written word in all its flavors. You can learn a lot from the writers of the past. They allow you to sit upon their broad shoulders and learn from their experience.

    There are many things to learn in writing. I’ve quoted Hemingway before that we are all apprentices in a craft with no masters. That is true. You could write from the first day of your literacy to the last day of your life and you will never know everything.

    You can write a million words, and still a million more will be waiting. All you can do is learn and write.

    That being said, different writers have given me different things.

    I’ve mentioned Ray Bradbury’s book Zen in the Art of Writing several times as being a major influence on me. Bradbury has a love of writing that is infectious. You can taste the love in his writing. But there are also things to be learned in that book. First, you have to write. There is no other way to be a writer than to write. Second, just because you don’t know what to write, doesn’t mean you can’t write. Sometimes I use a technique I learned from Bradbury. I will open a new document. I put a word or two where the title would be, and I just start writing about it. Eventually, a story begins and I follow it. There is no planning or outlining. There are fingertips to keys and stream of consciousness guiding them. This has been very effective for me in the past. Your brain knows what to write, as long as you don’t get in the way of it too much.

    I am extremely interested in dramatic and writing theory. Three act structures, protagonists, antagonists, the relationships between subplots and character arcs. It is really sickening, in some ways. If I can get my hands on a writing book, I read it. John Garner has a collection of them.  The Art of Fiction, On Moral Fiction, and On Becoming a Novelist all sit on my desk. Aristotle’s Poetics has been a required tome for screenwriters, but all writers could learn something from his notes on dramatic theory.

    Some of that stuff gets absorbed into my psyche, and I begin to do it naturally, without thinking. But some of it comes during the re-writing phase. Does my protagonist change? Do I have a strong conflict with my plot constantly driving to answer the story question? Do my sub-plots add to my story by complicating things further for my protagonist, or do they distract from my major plot, or even overwhelm it? I have to ask myself all of this and more. Re-writing is a very conscious process, and you have to bring your logical brain in to it, even if it hurts.

    Sometimes it does hurt. It seems like there are a million rules out there about how writing is supposed to happen. The thing to remember is that you don’t have to use all of them. The number one truth in writing is that if it works it is correct. Every rule has been successfully broken at one time or another. The important thing is that you pick up enough technique and theory that you become a dangerous weapon. You are James Bond. You have a million fancy gadgets to utilize, but you must complete your mission, and you must get the girl.

    A writer is like a puzzle. You see all these pieces laying on the table, and they don’t appear to be in any sort of order. But when you piece them altogether, you get the big picture. Some of my big influences are some of my favorite writers, but that doesn’t really matter. They just have to be another piece that fits into the puzzle that is me.

    All the great writers, even all the bad writers, lift you up and carry you farther than you might have gone on your own. Jump up on their backs and maybe you will see something new. Try something they tried, and then take it farther. Break rules, bend theory, or use them religiously. Just make it work.

  • Listening to the sound of my voice

    PaperbacksWhen I first started writing, I never intentionally tried to mirror a favorite writer. The problem was that I hadn’t found my own voice yet. So when I started creating stories, it surprised me when I discovered the stories were not my own.

    One of my early attempts was to write a science fiction epic that would have a galactic scale to it. I stopped after a few thousand words when I realized I was retelling Issac Asimov’s Foundation series. As time went on, I discovered an interest in writing stories about a populated Mars, not unlike Ray Bradbury. When I graduated college, it was Stephen King and his epic The Stand that I was mimicking in style — if not in apocalyptic subject matter.

    Through all these phases in my writing, I was equally concerned and confounded by the advice I received to “find your own voice.”

    I don’t have a voice, I wanted to argue. I only know how to write like the books I have read.

    After a decade or so of writing, I’ve discovered my voice has been with me all along. It was my own voice I was drowning out by listening to my favorite authors whispering in my ear.

    What I didn’t understand, what many new writers fail to grasp, is that our favorite writers aren’t doing anything special in their writing. They aren’t adopting a “writer’s voice” when they put pen to page. Do you want to know their secret? Lean in close and I’ll whisper it to you: They talk to you.

    Writing can still be difficult. I get off track, I overwrite scenes, and I have a habit of putting on my editor hat when I should be writing. But when I get things right, it’s because I have stopped trying to write. Instead, I talk and let my fingers transcribe what I’m saying in my head.

    That’s the voice I needed to find, and it was inside me all along.

  • A Monk of the Order of Bradbury

    “You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.” – Ray Bradbury

    I am a collector of worthless books.  For some unknown, deep-seated, pathological reason, I have the need to hoard large number of books.  Most were purchased for a buck or two from used bookstores and will never have a financial value worthy of their shelf space.

    Yet, I love them.  I read them.  I gaze at the spectrum of colors and shapes they produce on my bookshelves.  I shamefully smell their crisp, yellowing pages.  But, I rarely re-read them.

    Certainly, I have books I enjoy, even books I love, but with the sort of memory I have, the idea of wasting time reading a book I have already read seems inefficient and clumsy.  The exception has come with two or three particular books.  I enjoy them immensely, but my favorite book of all-time is Zen in the Art of Writing by Ray Bradbury.

    As a reader, I go through spurts of reading a particular writer.  One of my Bradbury spurts happened along at the same time I was really learning to write fiction.  I’ve read countless tomes on grammar, mechanics, plot and structure.  Most were individually forgettable, although I did get some nugget of information from each that will hopefully someday bear fruit.

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  • Flogging the Muse

    “Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns, driven time and again off course…” – Robert Fagles translation of Homer’s Odyssey

    I am not the sort of man who waits for his muse to sing.  I put a quarter in the jukebox, and if the music doesn’t start, I kick it like a roid-raged Fonzie.

    I keep my muse on her toes.  I don’t give her time to rest.  I keep a constant stream of input flowing to her from any source available, about anything I can find.  Each new string of thought strikes her, like a whip upon a plow horse, driving my muse through the muddied earth of imagination, in hopes that something new might grow from the shattered pieces of inspiration surrounding me.

    Whether it is real life or art, I expose her to anything.  But I also have several tricks I use when that fails.  Here is one of my favorite techniques to try when story prompts, current events, and plain old creativity fail.

    I love stealing phrases from poetry.  Poets are forced by their medium to make every word matter.  Every phrase is an image.  I use poetry that mirrors the tone of my writing and steal favorite phrases.  I have certain poets I read most often.  Plath, Poe, and Dickinson are some of my favorites.  The Homer quote was no accident.  My inspiration sometimes goes  back to the ancient tragedies.

    There is a line in the film As Good as it Gets when Greg Kinnear talks about a light coming over people that tells him that is when he needs to paint them.  That is how I feel when I find the right phrase.  I take the phrase totally out of context.  Sometimes, I will read the poem backwards to make sure I don’t get distracted by the meaning of the poem.  I don’t want the writer’s meaning of the phrase, I want my own.

    The next step is stolen from Ray Bradbury.  Type the phrase at the top of the first page.  Then, just write.  I am a seat of the pants writer.  If a story comes to mind, I’ll write it.  If I have nothing, I will write about the phrase.  When the story shows up, I’ll run with it.

    I will never wait for ideas.  I don’t have time for that.  I take a blue collar approach to writing.  Clock in, work, and clock out.  Ideas, be damned.

    You don’t have to be a poet to try this technique.  I don’t write poetry, and I rarely read it for pleasure.  Yet, I have found poetry to be a gold mine of inspiration.  Give it a try.  Go pick up a couple of poetry anthologies.  Get big, thick ones, and bludgeon your muse with them.