If you missed my previous post on organising my reading, I suggest you take a peek first, otherwise you may get confused.

All done? Great. Well, in short, it’s a little better. I actually managed to get my must read articles to zero this week. That is something of a breakthrough, and proof enough that separating out your most valued feeds is a great idea. And this folder has been refined since the initial batch o’ blogs was entered, which helps. One or two have been ruthlessly cut from the list, either to go into the “posts often” or “not that bothered” folders. This kind of refining will constantly improve the process.

There are two problems I am having at the moment. One is that pesky “posts often” folder. It’s massive. Over 1000 posts. Still, at least those posts are not getting in the way of my must reads. Just to reduce the numbers, and make sure I don’t miss out on some other favourites, I may separate the folder out into two tiers depending on which heavy posters I like most. But I’m not sure.

The other problem is the batch of ungrouped feeds sitting around gathering dust. I see a blog, like the look of it, and subscribe straight away, vowing to read it properly later and then decide where it goes. But now there are sixteen feeds that remain unread, and I have some catching up to do.

The solution here will be to put new feeds straight into “must read”. It sounds like a terrible abuse of the system, I know, but I figure it’s the only way of ensuring I will definitely read the posts. If I then decide they’re not that important after all, I’ll move them then.

So far, so good.

Now, this is not to take anything away from the other authors and their advice, but the original list by Elmore Leonard really is a cracker, so if you only read one, then read that one (the article opens with it). Some of the other authors gave a few quick answers, and some answers are more lighthearted. That’s not to say you shouldn’t read them, of course; I really recommend you do. And don’t forget part two, either.

I’ve read the lot and there are some really insightful comments in there, plus a few that crop up more than once. I’ve decided to pick out my favourites and create a top ten for myself. I haven’t credited each author, simply to avoid cluttering the list, and again I must stress that you should read the whole article in full.

Top ten tips and rules for writers by published authors

1. Write. Sounds ridiculous, but it’s true; just get the hell on with it.
2. Editing is everything. Cut, cut, cut. And if it sounds like writing, rewrite it; style is the art of getting yourself out of the way, not putting yourself in it.
3. Finish the day’s writing when you still want to continue, or are in mid-flow, even mid-sentence. That way you can jump right in the next day.
4. Read. Widely.
5. Never use a verb other than “said” to carry dialogue, and never use an adverb to modify the verb “said”. If the reader can’t tell how something was said, rewrite your dialogue instead.
6. Read it aloud to yourself – especially dialogue. Rhythm is important, and if it’s difficult to read out loud, it might be difficult to read full-stop.
7. Give it to someone else to read. These should be a trusted few, as also advised by Stephen King.
8. Do it every day. Don’t wait for inspiration, write anyway. By the way, although this sounds like the best idea ever, I don’t do it. But at the very least you should establish a routine.
9. Put “finished” drafts aside for a while.
10. Be without fear. Or know that you are afraid, but barge through it to the other side.

These are my favourites, you may feel differently. Let me know your favourites from the article, plus any other tips you’ve heard authors give, in the comments below. You can also give your own tips if you like.

What’s so good about it? Well, it’s extremely dense, for one thing. That doesn’t sound like a pleasant read, but every page is chock full of science, social commentary and insightful character actions and thoughts. In this the density does not become a slog but the reason to continue. It’s engaging and there’s something to learn on every page.

Now, when I read a good book, it’s often an inspiring thing. Many is the Stephen King or Chuck Palanuik book that’s been finished with one thought echoing round in my head, “I want to write”! But Red Mars is one novel where the mountain looks too steep. I think of just the science alone, and I cringe at the hours, days, weeks that must have been involved to get that level of detail. Then there’s the social and political commentary. While the events that take place are easy enough to dream up, it’s the detail (again) of the characters’ comments, beliefs and ideals that intimidate. Not forgetting that the book spans some thirty odd years in the lives of completely believable characters. And this is the first book in a trilogy!

Now, I do realise that this is quite a bit of whingy hand-wringing on my part. In truth (and even though it’s been quite a while since a book has affected me like this), I shrugged it off fairly quickly. There will always be someone better than you (much, much better probably. No offence), but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a place for you and that you should give up. I’m saying “you” but I am of course referring to myself, too.

I guess I can keep it as an example of something to aspire to, even if I think I’ll never get there. An even better take home message, is that our writing is different, and should stay that way. I should not be intimidated (or even inspired) to alter my writing style in worship of another writer. I shall continue with my writing and let my style grow, not in isolation, but in its own way.

We could get a really terrifying list of books here, but let’s embrace that! What books have intimidated you, and why?

Well, here’s the thing, and I know I’m probably preaching to the converted here, but you should want to be influenced! You should expose yourself to as many voices as possible in the hope that it will help your own voice mature; you should want to be inspired by other writers’ ideas (this doesn’t mean you have to rip them off, as suggested by the comment above).

Reading others’ writing can teach us so much. Here’s a quick (and by no means exhaustive) list of things to look out for when reading:

• Structure (of whole story, of chapter, of paragraph)
• Pace
• Characterisation (how is a character put across?)
• How does the theme come across?
• Use of description (when and how much)

Okay, that really wasn’t exhaustive, but it’s the main things that I think about at the moment when I’m reading a novel (currently reading Red Mars by Kim Stanley Robinson by the way, which is amazing).

The single most important thing for me though (and feel free to disagree. That’s what commenting is for!) is you should learn what you like. What sections did you enjoy most? Why was that? Was it because of a particularly witty bit of wordplay, because it made you laugh, it got your blood pumping, you just got introduced to a new favourite character, you were intrigued, you had a plot epiphany… on and on and on. Read widely, and you can build quite an impressive list of things you like, and even better, these valuable lessons will start to infiltrate your own writing almost automatically.

You want proof? Well, I’m sorry, but I can’t give you anything rock solid. The best I can come up with is that I have observed that those people who are in the habit if reading, are more comfortable with the act of writing. I myself feel that I am a much better writer due to my enjoyment of books since childhood.

I know. Not exactly an exhaustive study under scientific conditions, is it. But it makes intuitive sense that those who read will learn something about writing from it, especially if that’s where your focus lies.

There are other reasons to read a lot, which I will probably cover in another post. In the mean time, if you would like to discuss it in more detail, the comments section beckons!

Although I feel very comfortable with my writing voice during the act of putting pixels to.. er.. pixels I guess, I have often wondered how other people perceive it. I am just as paranoid as the next writer it seems. I have for a long time had the sneaking suspicion that my writing style is… not boring as such, but lacks a certain dynamism. There are very few jokes aside from the dry observational variety, and I sometimes feel I present situations rather plainly. That is as best as I can put it, although you will have the opportunity to judge for yourselves eventually of course (a whole new can of paranoid worms there).

Now, I don’t mean this to be in any way detrimental to Carl Sagan’s writing, which as I mentioned, I am thoroughly enjoying. But I found some relief in knowing that if anything his style of writing was “dryer” than mine. Again, I don’t mean to be critical, and perhaps “dry” is the wrong word to begin with. This is not a situation where I think, “well, his writing is worse than mine, and he got published”. It’s more a case of, “his writing is perhaps plainer, more dry than mine, but it is still interesting to read”. Very much so in fact.

Interesting does not sound like much of a compliment, I’ll grant you, and it perhaps represents a kind of minimum requirement of a text for most people. However, being interesting is very important to me when it comes to the creative endeavors of others. A piece of music does not have to be emotive, or have clever lyrics, or even be pleasant to the ear, for example. But it must be interesting; it must have something about it that keeps me listening. The same goes for visual art or written text.

So, to find another author who exhibits some of the traits that I worry about in my own style, and that I still find interesting to read, and want to read more of, is a great source of reassurance. I guess the lesson is to trust your own style. I often will read something and really love the voice of the author. Something in me tells me I could never write like that. And, of course, that will be true for a great many authors I read. But, perhaps the aim of writing like an admired author is something of a red herring anyway. After all, your aim should never be to write like them, but to write like yourself. That is what your “voice” is all about.

I think you should be less concerned with what other people think of your writing, and be more worried about what you think of it. Do you like it when you write it, and later, when you read it back? Worrying about other people will come later, of course, and at some point you may lose the objectivity that tells you what you’ve written is great (after going through the fifth draft of a chapter, for example), but remember, it’s your voice, and if you find it interesting, chances are someone else will.

Who here is confident about their writing voice, and why? What gave you that confidence?

First off, “On Writing” is an excellent book, and you should read it. I don’t know why I didn’t read it much much earlier.

The chapter in question concerned grammar (it’s only a short bit, and still interesting, so don’t let that put you off). Recently I had been a bit worried about whether to use adjectives or not, and especially in dialogue attribution (he said, angrily, for example). I’ve never liked using it. It always felt wrong and looked childish. But there was a nagging feeling that maybe I should be using it sometimes. After all, the words were invented for a reason.

But Stephen King says otherwise, and as soon as I read it I knew I was being stupid all along. Of course I was right! It didn’t even warrant the slightest bit of worry. Still, it’s nice to have your thoughts confirmed by a master.

I knew it already because Stephen King knew it. I read loads of King when I was younger,  so it’s no surprise that I should pick up good habits from his writing, and others. And that’s the second point of this post. It sounds obvious, but we should all be reading. Read read read read read. You probably don’t read enough – I know I don’t.

Do you sometimes have a crisis of confidence over silly little things? Maybe you disagree about adjectives. Any good examples of where they work really well?

When you sit down to do some research, your intention can be very different. You know the kind of thing you are looking for and it’s a matter of digging out the relevant information. If you’re like me (and many other people these days), your first port of call is the internet. The wealth of information is so huge, and so varied.

But, as I’m sure you know, it’s a double-edged sword. You are bound to find what you are looking for, but how much tripe must you wade through first? I have a few trusted sites that I have used in the past and know to contain good information. But I don’t keep these in a list. And it is a real pain to go from one to another of these trusted sites in turn.

What I need is something like a Google search, but only for those sites that I know and trust.

Well, an RSS aggregator can be that tool. I use Google Reader. Although you can use it as something to spark inspiration, that relies on you regularly checking it and reading the articles you’ve collected. The trouble is I now have quite a few website delivering information to Google Reader for me, and I simply don’t have the time to wade through it all (Google Reader has given up counting and just says 1000+).

But I do keep it as a bank of trusted information I can go to when I want to do some research. It’s simply a matter of typing what I’m looking for into Google reader’s search, just like you would with a normal web search. Google Reader will go through all the articles I’ve automatically collected and pull out the ones it thinks are most relevant. Plus I can filter it by folder (I have a load of blogs in a “science” folder for example). Job done.

It was something of a mini revelation. Only a very small point, and very obvious, but one of those things that had occurred to my conscious mind before – it had never struck me (as they say).

It’s the closing chapter of the “CV” section of the book, and is entitled “what writing is”. In it he writes that when he is writing

I’m in another place, a basement place, where there are lots of bright lights and clear images. This is a place I’ve built for myself over the years. It’s a far seeing place.

I recognise this of course, as many writers will. There is a place you go inside your head to see the things you do, and it is from that place that paragraphs will form and travel down your arms, to your fingers, to the page.

It is a little beside the point, but after reading this I thought I would imagine my writing place. The image that came to mind was a warm dungeon, candlelit, and possibly with a well-stocked fireplace nearby. In it I’m writing with pen and paper. I don’t know why that image comes, although it might be to do with Stephen King describing his own place as being in a “basement”. It might be a fun idea to imagine your own writing place and picture it every time you sit down to write. Any ideas in the comments, please.

Anyway, where were we? The real point of this post is what Stephen King goes on to say about reading. He describes it as a similar place, and when I think about it, it does feel like that. It’s interesting to think of reading being the same “place” that writing comes from. I keep a wad of scrap paper stuffed into the back of any book I’m reading. If I feel I want to make a note, I take a piece of paper, write the page number on it (in case it falls out), and write my notes on that, putting it between the pages like a bookmark when I’m done. At this point I wrote:

Writing uses the same place as reading does. That semi-conscious, slightly dark and blurry place. Not like you’re looking at things through distorted glass – that’s too cold and distant. More like you’re submerged in warm water.

Weirdly, I never made the connection.

It’s a more “prosey” note than I’d normally make, but I was inspired – I’d never thought of it like that! Reading is easy for me. I enjoy it a lot. Seeing writing as very similar to reading (the same even), takes some of its intimidating nature away.

In short, I will try and think of writing as another from of reading. Instead of reading from the page, I am reading on to it. This change in attitude may make writing easier. What do you think?