This cool writerly image provided by geishaboy500. To see the original, follow the link.

I got thinking about this due to a conversation I had at the weekend.  Despite the fact that I write (occasionally) and I have several projects all but completed (damn you endless editing process!) I still don’t feel like a writer.

Yes, ok, this may have something to do with the “not being published” thing, but that aside…  There is part of me, I guess, that still feels like writing is a part time thing, like a hobby, rather than a vocation.  I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with writing in your spare time, just because you enjoy it, and not really writing to get something published, but I’ve always felt a little more serious about my writing.  My first major idea, that I developed when I was about 12 is still on my flash drive, and I do still look over it every now and again.  When I’m in the right headspace for it.  Everything else though has taken a back seat for this serialized project I’ve been working on, and which has frankly, worn me out.

The Stigma

I have no idea why, but I still feel like there’s some kind of stigma attached to being a writer.  Almost as if it’s something to be ashamed of.  Just like every other aspect of creative profession.  I have in the past felt myself cringe when I’ve told people “Oh, I’m acting in this thing” or “I’m writing a book” and the like.  I’ve never had a problem with telling people “Oh, I’m a technician with a touring theatre company” because that’s working with equipment, it’s less namby pamby I guess, coming from one of those grim northern towns where people still remember coal mining and ship building and proper “man jobs” like that.

So why should I feel ashamed of being a writer?  Just look at who the writing world has given us.  Hemmingway, Wilde, Shakespeare, Clancy.  Granted, it’s also given us Dan Brown and the frigging Twilight Saga, which in turn has ruined poor Robert Pattinson’s life, but that’s another issue entirely.

A Full Time Thing

Maybe I don’t feel like a writer because I don’t treat it as a full time thing.  I’ve never made money from it, so I still can’t take myself seriously as a writer.  Or maybe it’s because of what I write about.  This is why I never tell people why I’m a writer.  Because it’s one of the main questions you’re asked.

“What do you write about?”

Sure, the pretentious answer is “love, loss, revenge, betrayal, all kinds of aspects of the human condition.” But I guess that’s because I don’t want to tell people I write stuff with giant space lizards and laser guns.  Because as soon as you mention the words “science” and “fiction” together, most people switch off and lose interest, because they think you’re writing star wars slash fiction.

An Underappreciated Genre

DavidTurnbull uses this image as his desktop to remind him that he IS a writer. Grab the original by following the link.

But is it so bad?  If you forget about Star Wars for a moment (which purists will tell you is science fantasy anyway), lets look at the genre.  Science Fiction has given us Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep?, I Am Legend, Brave New World and we cannot leave out Neuromancer.  This is what I always go to because ‘The Novel’ is cyberpunkish.  I dislike the fact that just because a book is set in the future, it is automatically classed as science fiction.  There is a wonderful book by Max Barry called Jennifer Government which yes, is set in the future, but isn’t sci-fi.  It’s satire.  And disturbingly prescient.  A lot like 1984.  It’s the kind of book you read alongside No Logo and makes you realise just how, well, that’s me getting on my soapbox.

I don’t want to feel this stigma.  Just because my serialized project is about time travel (which in this country will make 80% of people you say that to instantly think “Oh, like Doctor Who” and instantly stop taking it seriously) doesn’t mean its geeky sci-fi.  Ok, so my reading material is string theory and chaos theory, but ultimately, it’s a human story.  Which all the best science fiction is.  The titles I mentioned before, Do Androids…, I Am Legend, Brave new World, they are all, at their hearts, about the nature of humanity.

Do you get that from Dan Brown?  No. Twilight?  Please, don’t make me laugh.

Anyway, what was my point?  Am I the only writer out there who feels some degree of shame as labeling himself as such?

I was recently reading a book (yeah, great, what else are you going to do with a book, watch it?) Now I can’t remember if it was Bad Things by Michael Marshall, or whether it was something else, but this is the book that sticks in my mind, so it’s the example that I’ll use. Now I personally feel that Marshall is a master of pacing. The opening chapters are languid and easy going, not rushed at all, but I enjoy that. It puts you in a place, lets you get the feel of the characters, and helps settle you for the journey. And once things get underway you get swept up in the ride. Towards the end of the book, the chapters get snappier, shorter. Now, I’ve never really been a fan of tons of shorter chapters. Some books (such as those by Dan Brown) I check out to see how many chapters there are and when I note that there are over a hundred I roll my eyes. Yes, having lots of fast short chapters help you rush through the book, and keeps the pace up, but you don’t get time to see the characters, the situations, you’re along for the ride. It’s like watching a film and not being able to rewind to catch a moment you think you might have missed.

Alternatively, sometimes I’ll see a massive doorstop of a book with only twenty chapters and I know I’ll have to drag myself kicking and screaming through it.

Maybe it’s a psychological effect.

Anyway, back to the short chapters. It struck me just how effective it was at ratcheting up the tension. A whole host of chapters jostling together, switching between different characters, passing almost in real time, really gets you on the edge of your seat, and whenever that happens, I feel I have to push through all the way to the end. I get to the last few chapters and I cant just leave it, I have to read them all. If I leave the last two chapters say, I feel like its switching a movie off five minutes from the end, and coming back to it later.

The reason I bring this all up is due to the climax of my first major project I got finished. During its (extremely long) development, I’ve received advice from various people (including Matt), most especially about my chapter lengths. Initially my chapters were short, and jumpy, which didn’t create a good rhythm. Then I arrived at the climax. Due to the way my redrafting had gone, the climax ended up being a race against time. What I decided to do with this was drop the reader right in it with the main character, and not let up until the end. So something like the last fifth of the book is one long chapter.

Great. I didn’t have a problem with that. When I first wrote it, my fingers could barely keep up with my brain while I was getting it all down, and I felt the rush that the character was going through. I showed it to some people for feedback and what did they say? It was exhausting. Not because having all of this in one block slowed it down in any way, but because it was relentless, they felt they needed time to breathe. And in retrospect, I can understand. Shorter, snappier chapters (especially when you switch between several characters all working towards the same goal) can keep the pace right up there, but without the associated exhaustion. Now, all I have to do is figure out how to break up this finale without my mind snapping…