Forcing Creativity (crude)

Forcing creativity is like forcing a fart, with similar results.

I don't know if that's a quote from someone famous or not, but if it isn't I'm claiming it here and now.

Over the past few weeks, I've found myself in an incredibly different situation than I'm used to. I've moved from one state to the next, I'm officially sifting through the job market, and I'm adjusting to being an actual, paying-the-bills adult. It's strange.

Of course, this messed with my creative flow quite a bit. During the summer it was very easy for me to sit down over the course of a few hours and pound out a thousand words (once I wrote three thousand good words in three hours. What.). Now it's difficult for me to get that done all day, and not for lack of time. Unemployment has at least one benefit.

For a while this led me to try and force the words out, just to hit that goal. I set that benchmark back in early June when I really knuckled down and started writing this novel, for real guys, no really, and for a few months I had very little trouble hitting my goal. In two months I had added over 65,000 words to the story, which is now in full official novel-length.

Now that my situation is drastically different, I've found it harder and harder sometimes to really just get it done. Some days I want to do nothing more than sit and play Crusader Kings 2, or watch stupid crap online. I made myself sit down and write, though, for hours on end, and was never quite happy with what I wrote, despite various peoples' assurances that it was good.

So now I'm taking it a little easier, at least until things are a little more sorted and organized. I think I'm more worried about getting burned out on this if I keep up the pace for too long. Now for a little story:

I went to GenCon earlier this year in mid-August, which is a board-game convention (think more Warhammer and Settlers of Catan than Monopoly) and managed to attend a seminar hosted by Patrick Rothfuss, the author of the Name of the Wind. One of the questions asked was whether his views on writing had changed since being published, and he said that they had. Now it wasn't a hobby, now it's something he does as work. It went from being something fun to being something he has to do to pay the bills. He still likes it, but he's adjusting.

I feel like I'm nearing that point. True, I'm not being paid for it (hopefully there's a "yet" in there somewhere) but it still feels like something I have to do, instead of something I want to do. There's definitely a distinction in there.

So now it's time for me to get back to my Word document. It's actually coming along pretty well. There's only maybe two weeks until Eight Days to Absolution hits 100,000 words, and I intend to celebrate it with some sort of drunken, debauched celebration. After all, what are milestones good for if not arbitrary celebrations?

Back to the "quote." Don't force creativity. You'll most likely end up with shit.

On taking a break, and side-projects

In mid-June, I decided to finally buckle down and write every day. My goal was to put down at least one thousand words into my novel, daily, for pretty much the foreseeable future. For almost two months I managed to keep it going, making up for whatever debt I would incur whenever I missed a day by just writing more over the next couple of days until I was on track. In the span of under two months I added over 60,000 more words to my novel, making it the longest single work I'd ever written.

Slowly, over the course of the summer, I began to see that my creativity was waning. It wasn't so much that I had a lack of ideas, it was more that I was beginning to feel creatively exhausted, like I was close to burning out. But all the writing tips said to write every day, to push through it, and so I did. I started to think that I should have been writing better, to choose my words more carefully, but the wordcount beckoned, and I decided I could leave quality for the revisions (don't do this).

Then, I went camping with my girlfriend's family. I had no access to my laptop for four days, and hand-writing has never really been a forte of mine, so I was left without the ability to record progress to my work. At first I was concerned, because what if I lost the momentum I had built up so far? What if I burned out like I had before? It was around then that I realized I hadn't been enjoying the act so much and instead was trying to simply hit the word count for the day, which isn't something bad in and of itself, but I wasn't writing to write anymore. I was writing because I had a word count and I was beginning to resent it.

So I spent the four days in the semi-wilderness brainstorming a new project, kind of related to my first. I spent the entire time writing down ideas, thinking of the world, and potential stories and subplots that built it up. Things started to shift then, until I realized I was brainstorming my novel again.

Boom. Four days and a second project away and I was back into my creative groove. The word-count has been adjusted to 7000 words a week, to allow myself some leeway in missing a day or two. And it's no longer set in stone. At this point, I just want to finish it with some quality.

The second project is something I've tucked away for a later date. There is a definite way I can tie it into my current work, and it's something to motivate me to keep going when I reach the next spot that looks a little exhausted.

World-building with Implications

I apologize for the gap in posting time. What with the last few days of work being the busiest of the summer and a seven-hour car drive, I had no time to write. Let's get back on track.

At the risk of turning this into a world-building blog, I thought I would continued down the road of creating something from scratch. If you missed my last post, I started creating a...place called Ponosivka, a Russia-inspired theocracy where ancestors are worshiped and everyone is cold all the time. Using only the information I created last time, I will add more depth to the world and see whether I can stop the place from seeming like a carbon copy of Russia.

But first, let's talk about implications and world-building. There are a few accepted methods of creating a new place, but in my opinion the two biggest are top-down and bottom-up. They are exactly what they sound like: build the big stuff first, then the details, and the opposite. An example of top-down design would be formulating the universe, then the world, then the peoples that populate it. Bottom-up would be like starting with a person or group and building bits of the world when you need to. This post highlights something like a middle ground, though it bares more resemblance to the top-down method.

First: Technology. The year is 1900, and the Great War is just around the corner. There is widespread military technology, from rifles to large artillery batteries and assault vehicles. In the normal world the lead-up to these was very complicated, and the logistics would require a ton of research. For the sake of keeping this quick and dirty, let's say that these Ponosivkai people have discovered an alternate fuel source that essentially gives clean energy. Let's call it Wax, due to the fact that it causes machinery to increase in speed, activity, etc.

Second: Religion. Alright, so we have ancestor worship. In a society where they worship those who came before, what's some way that could effect the civilization? Let's dip into the government section we created last time, where the head of spiritual matters was called the High Genealogist and take inspiration from the Mormon Church (no matter your opinion on their beliefs) and say that the study of genealogy is a major part of their religion. Let's also say that this means it's spurred science onward, because if you can link your ancestry to a cultural hero, all the better your standing.

Third: Government. Absolute Theocratic Diarchy. The Czar and the High Genealogist, two titles I really just grabbed from thin air. This means the religion is so important that their laws are probably governed by some form of religious code, maybe from their holy book. Considering they worship those who came before, maybe there's some law concerning contraception, or legal punishment is dealt by sterilization; no one to remember you and honor you after you die. Kinda dark, in all honesty, but it fits with the established tone from the last post.

Fourth: Culture. A lot of this can be figured out by the last three categories, but let's expand on it a little more. The weather forces the Ponosivkai to wear thick wool greatcoats, so there might be some sort of honorary view of craftsmen if they are the only thing keeping you from freezing to death. If it's cold most of the time the winter days must get pretty short, so light and heat is probably another thing they view as important in a cultural manner, as well as booze, because if every society in the history of the world has something in common, it's the invention of alcohol.

And there we have it, we've just added a significant amount of information about our world without really having to brainstorm anything beyond the implications. It's not perfect, and it relies on your ability to interpret what's already there, but if you want to deepen your pool instead of widen it, it's a good exercise.

World-building for Tone

One of my favorite activities concerning writing is world-building. As a fantasy writer, it's generally one of the largest parts of my process, aside from, you know...actually writing. This assumes it's a brand new world, and it's a quick-and-dirty process, instead of a time-consuming, let's build something from scratch process.

I'm a big fan of world-building for tone, meaning that I have a particular tone in mind for my work, and I like my world-building to reflect that. In this post, I'm going to run through a sample tonal world-building venture as I would generally do it, but slightly abbreviated. There will be no maps, because those take more time than I have.

So! Let's start with a certain tone. I feel like building something pretty cynical, so let's do that.

First, the tech level. I'm feeling a little medievaled-out, so let's go World War I, but a little heavier on the aesthetics and with a little more oomph. Exaggeration isn't a bad thing, so let's kick everything up a notch.

The basics of my process when I create a world in a very short amount of time:

1. Base Country/Culture: While I don't normally recommend it, for this type of project we'll choose a base country. I'm choosing Russia, partially because randomized Wikipedia led me to Slavs, and partially because it makes it easy to be cynical. I'll use a random name generator for the country's name, which gives me Ponosivka. Sounds suitably Russian to my ears, let's continue.

2. Era/Technology Level: I'm a little tired of medieval era stuff, so let's set this world during an equivalent technological period as our own World War I. Let's say their date is Year 1900, for simplicity's sake. Bolt-action rifles, cannons are getting bigger, and mechanized warfare is a glimmer on the horizon. Because we're exaggerating a little bit, let's make everything bigger. Big artillery batteries assault positions, there is some sort of mechanical assault vehicle that runs on whichever fuel you choose, and due to bullets piercing metal armor, everyone wears greatcoats to keep out the cold.

3. Religion: In a normal setting I wouldn't have everyone in the country follow the same religion, but it's easy enough to claim it's the state belief. Let's stay away from theist religions, simply because it's the norm. How about ancestor worship? Let's go with that.

4. Government: What fits cynical, war-time, ancestor worship Russia? Let's go with an absolute theocratic diarchy, which is like a monarchy but with two people. We'll have the Czar and the High Genealogist, the leader of secular matters and the leader of spiritual matters.

5. Culture: It's cold. It's cynical. It's religious, specifically concerning ancestors. Coming from these, the clothing would probably be heavy wool or similar, something to keep the cold out. The peoples would probably be overworked but able to enjoy relaxing after their toil by drowning their sorrows. They would put great weight on death-dates (deathdays?) because that is when you join your ancestors in whatever afterlife.

Generally those are the basics of what I create when I need something quick. From there I can work out the more intricate details, like military, and the finer points of government. The problem with this method is that it normally creates a one-dimensional imitation of a real-life culture, which might alienate some people. It can give you a good base, though, and you can build off that.

Trope ramble one: Unhappy Medium

Today, I'm going to muse on the trope: the Unhappy Medium.

In general, the unhappy medium is a character that exists to showcase why having psychic abilities sucks. Think really any psyker in Warhammer 40,000, or Robin Wednesbury from The Stars My Destination by Alfred Bester. The idea is that, in the setting's universe, being a psychic tends to take a terrible toll on the body, mind, spirit, what have you, and you're better off not being an empath or any other special person.

I'm a fan of it, but that might just be me and my love of grit in my stories. I've always had a thing for dirt realism, maybe with a pinch of cynicism thrown in, and this trope helps bring that idea into the realm of psionics, which is something that you don't see a whole lot of, even with it being a part of Dungeons & Dragons since the old OD&D days. Not that I would model anything off D&D's instance of anything, but there you go.

This leads me into a tangent, which I think might become the main crux of this article: the use of psionics in science fiction in general. It's something I've noticed, that there are a lot of science fiction stories, novels, and overall settings that seem to presuppose the existence of psychic abilities, from the basics like mind reading to, as seen in Bester's novel, full-on teleportation. I'm not sure when this became a thing; it's existed for at least a few decades, and continues to this day. You can see it in a few of the races in Star Trek, most notably the Vulcans with their mind-melding.

Why? Maybe because it is a better excuse for strange, mysterious "powers" than simply waving a hand and calling it magic. I suspect it's because there is a sort of...science-like feel to the idea of moving things telepathically that fits in with the more rigid style of science fiction stories. Of course, this doesn't stop fantasy and other genres from using these abilities, but it says something about them that they fit well in science fiction much moreso than fireballs and lightning bolts.

I like psionics as an idea, but in most cases I feel like their use lacks some sort of oomph. Maybe it's simply the fact that they're called psionics instead of magic; after all, most of the time the only difference between executing a magical power and executing a telepathic ability is...the name. Take, for example, Bayaz from Joe Abercrombie's The First Law series. Whenever he uses magic, it's never a flashy display. One of the more memorable and early uses is when he causes a man to just...explode. He doesn't perform any physical actions, doesn't need somatic, verbal, or material components, he just...does it. If this had happened in a science fiction series, it would have been a psychic attack, but essentially the same.

And yet, I feel like it might have been disappointing.

Perhaps it's because of the association magic has with being huge and spectacular, while the only real sign of manifesting a psychic power in popular media is a nosebleed. Maybe it's because I was raised on more fantasy literature than science fiction. Maybe I'm just subconsciously biased against it because the D&D rules are wacky. Who knows? I don't.