Saturday, June 27, 2015

Finding my writing mojo

It’s hard to believe that five months have slipped by since we last put up a post. So much has happened over the past year – in particular, new, time-consuming jobs for both me and Nik – that blogging and writing and even reading, at times, have slowed tremendously. (As have housework and hobbies and all sorts of other things I used to have time for…).

But I want this. I do. I want to finish the books I’ve started as well as the ones still in my head.

I’m taking advantage of the extra time afforded by the summer break from school (no more God-awful early mornings and endless evenings of homework, at least for the next 10 weeks) to get back my writing mojo. It’s not easy. The words are stiff, the characters blather, and I can’t see where it’s going. But I’m pushing through, planning out writing sessions during my commute so when I get to the computer I know exactly what I’ll work on. Kind of a brute force approach, and progress is slow. But it’s there.

I recently started playing the piano again after a 25-year hiatus (amazing how time flies!) and the experience is very similar. At first, stiff fingers, poor pacing, and a complete absence of anything even close to resembling musicality. But the more I play, the easier it becomes and the better it sounds. I have very high hopes that my writing will follow suit.

I have four tween/teen novels underway, one racy adult story, two cookbooks, and a notebook full of story ideas. So no shortage of options and no excuses for writers’ block. I’m planning an August writing trip while my kids are away to complete a first draft of one of the kids’ books and to get a good start on cookbook #3.

But enough about me. We want to hear from you. If you’ve lost your writing mojo at some point, how did you get it back? Plow through it and hope for the best? Writing exercises? Elves and fairy dust? Winn-Dixie? Please share!

Monday, January 26, 2015

The Killer Crabs of Clipperton Atoll (An Unintentionally Creepy Bedtime Story)

Find on Amazon: The Pocket Atlas of
Remote Islands
A while back, a good friend (i.e., Nik) regifted to me a small book about islands to pass along to my oldest son (a child who starts nearly every sentence with “Hey Mom, did you know….,” and then proceeds to share whatever random fact he’s just discovered…). It’s a great little book – The Pocket Atlas of Remote Islands  by Judith Schlansky – with short tales and interesting facts about, well, remote islands (the subtitle of the book is Fifty islands I have not visited and never will). 

Because there was no reason to read the book from start to finish, we  (i.e., me) thought it would be fun to jab a finger at a random page and read the resulting selection as a bedtime story.

Well….(cue creepy music)…that was the night we discovered the (almost) unspeakable horrors of Clipperton Atoll.

You see Clipperton, a small coral island tucked away in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the Pacific Ocean (about 1000 km off the coast of Mexico), is inhabited by man-eating orange land crabs. Lots and lots of them. So many that their shells crunch underfoot as one walks across the island (until, of course, one’s feet are devoured by said crabs).

Clipperton Crab: Sure, it looks all cute and innocent...
According to Schlansky, a small Mexican garrison stationed at Clipperton was all but forgotten for more pressing issues during the Mexican Revolution. Supply ships stopped arriving as the war heightened, and the 26 residents – 14 men, 6 women, and 6 children – were left with no food save the crabs (nothing grew on the coral). Scurvy broke out, many died, and the governor went mad. The survivors, mad themselves by then, killed each other off (with help from the crabs, I presume) until only a handful remained to outrun the crabs to a long-awaited rescue ship. From the safety of the deck they could see the orange ring of crabs around the atoll, claws snapping in the sun as the ship sailed off….  (book closes).

“Mom? Are there crabs in Ohio?”
 “Just little ones, honey. Like at the pet store. And they only eat bugs.”
“Okay. Night, Mom.”
 “Night, honey.” 
(Light off)
 “Mom! Not funny!”

Saturday, January 3, 2015

Have you noticed?

Firstly, a Merry Christmas to all of you at home. I hope that Santa brought everything that you asked for.  

When the mail began to drop through again after the holiday, there was an official-looking envelope that didn't appear to be a regular bill, so I opened it. It turned out to be from a store where I bought a new washing machine nearly two years ago. 

"Dear Mr Forester" (it said)

"We've noticed that the two-year manufacturer's warranty on your washing machine is about to expire."

I thought that was a lovely piece of phrasing. Nothing too officious, threatening or peremptory. It didn't say, for example:

"Your washing machine warranty is about to expire". (Oh, no, what do I do? What do I do?!)

"Did you know that your washing machine warranty is about to expire?" (My word, no, I didn't, what a fool I've been!)

No, it just implies that Derek in accounts was sleepily sorting through some old files, and luckily happened to "notice" that my warranty was about to run out, so they thought that a friendly note might be useful to me. So they could sell me an extension to the warranty that cost almost as much as the machine itself.

I wasn't going to fall for that no matter what the letter said, but it did make me smile, and I certainly noticed it.     

Thursday, September 4, 2014

TMI, Mr. Fforde. TMI.

As I type this, I'm about two hours into a 13 hour plane ride. I've achieved the rank of Peggle Master in my latest app obsession, and am working my way through my second tiny bottle of a surprisingly good Pinot Grigio.
Buy from Amazon: First Among Sequels

I'm also working my way through Jasper Fforde's fifth book in his Thursday Next series, "Thursday Next, First Among Sequels". And I'm not particularly happy.

Oh I'm happy about the trip, despite the fact that I'll likely miss my connection flight. And I'm happy that I have a row to myself, nice wine, and the rumble of jet engines to lull me to sleep.

But I'm not happy about the book. I adore Ffforde's writing, I really do. And his stories are amazingly creative, and whimsical, and funny. But having read the first 14 chapters of First Among Sequels, I'm terribly disappointed. It's just one long back story so far, 124 pages whose sole purpose seems to be to catch up the story for new readers.

To make matters worse, the plot devices for revealing said backstory are weak and shallow. In one case, Thursday, a Jurisfiction agent in BookWorld, drones on and on to her cadet trainee: explaining how BookWorld works, taking tours, going on ad nauseum about stuff that was delightfully woven seamlessly into books 1-4. In another case, Thursday takes her son to a ChronoGuard recruiting seminar, where, similarly, a recruiting officer drones on and on about time topics also covered in depth in the earlier books. The only light spot is when her son, Friday, asks, "Is this going to take long?" My thoughts exactly!

Now as an author whose first novel is still very much a work in progress, this has me thinking (or maybe it's the wine): When writing a sequel (or two or three or four), how do you catch up your new readers without boring your loyal followers to death? You can't just pick things up without some sort of transition (or can you?)? But holding the reader captive while lecturing the finer points of earlier novels doesn't work either.

So what then? In the types of writing I do daily – scholarly scientific articles, test plans, project proposals, and the like – there's always a backstory. In some cases, depending on the topic, the foundational work goes back decades, or even centuries. Now most articles in technical journals are dry and dull enough without years upon years of backstory, so deciding which elements to include and how to include them is a sort of art form. Is it necessary to mention the Wright Brothers when developing a new test procedure for jet engines? Probably not. But if adding a new term to an existing equation, discussing the original work is a good idea.

Many authors approach the issue of previous work by just stuffing a few paragraphs into the intro. Something along the lines of: Guy1 did this stuff [see reference 1], guy2 did this other stuff [see reference 2], guy3 did some more stuff [see reference 3], blah, blah, blah until it's practically unreadable.

The better authors, in my opinion, not only weave the past work into appropriate sections of the paper rather than blast the reader with a tally sheet of backstory, but they also include a discussion of how the earlier findings contribute to the current work. 

This approach isn't unique to technical writing. Look at some of the hugely successful sequels, such as the Harry Potter books or the Series of Unfortunate Events or any number of multi-book stories. The best sequels don't bore the reader with in-your-face, not-letting-you-go-until-I've-had-my-say backstory. Rather, they introduce relevant points through the actions of their characters, or the setting, or natural dialogue. Could Fforde have describe BookWorld without the tedious tour scene? You betcha! Tuesday could've whisked her cadet away on their first assignment (after a behind-the-scenes tour and in-processing, presumably) and the important details of DiscWorld would've been revealed more naturally. Ditto for the ChonoGuards and time travel – introduce the concepts when they impact the current storyline, not before.

Okay, I've had my say and I'm ready for another tiny bottle of wine. Feel free to direct me back to this post if at some point in the future my (wildly successful) sequels have you bored silly.

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

What a souper book!

 The 5:2 Fast Diet: Soup Recipes
$.99 on Amazon, £.77 on Amazon.UK
Yes, it's an excuse to use a dreadful pun!

Way back when Jay and I started this blog, we were looking with envy at the piles of cash being turned in by Fifty Shades of Grey, and deciding that we, with our demonstrated ability to write technical engineering documents with literally tens of readers, could quite clearly do much better. And earn even bigger piles of money, naturally. 

Having flirted briefly with erotica (Jay is still far too embarrassed to show me what she wrote!), so far we have two children's books in progress, a thriller in the early stages, and a very long list of plot ideas (some of which made sense when scribbled down, probably after a rather inadvisable quantity of wine had been consumed, but are utterly incomprehensible now), our actual successes to date have been with two cookbooks to support the 5:2 intermittent fasting diet. 

Yes! You did read that right: two cookbooks! Following on from our 5:2 Breakfasts cookbook, which we're delighted to say has sold steadily since its launch, we've followed up with a book all about soups. Again, it's geared towards the 5:2 diet, so it's not a place to find rich buttery high-calorie mixtures, but any cookbook that gives you 84 recipes for under a dollar has to be worth a look. You might be interested in the diet plan as well. 

So please buy, enjoy, and let us know how you like it!

Friday, August 15, 2014

One Man’s Spam is Another Man’s Shmangle

Early last year we posted a short piece looking at some of the humorous consequences of skipping transition scenes in fiction (I Sent My Kid to School Naked). Since then, it’s received more than 40,000 views and over 2700 comments – 7 that seem more or less real (thanks, Mom!), and the remaining 99.7% so spammy the almighty Google intervened and blocked them on the spot.

Interesting, right? No, really. After having spent the better part of an afternoon reading through the comments, I’m fascinated by the fine art of spamming.

So who are these mystery spammers and why are they drawn to this post like Rob Ford to a crack pipe?

Figure 1: Distribution of Spam Comments

As can be seen in Figure 1, the overwhelming majority of our fans (those with comments intelligible enough to discern their background) are purveyors of male enhancement products, offering such sage advice as:
You have to have a strong belief that penis enlargement really possible.”
[Translation: If the crap we’re hawking doesn’t have you looking like John Holmes, it’s your fault for not believing.]

Online casino spammers make up the next biggest chunk of the spam market, although they tend to simply leave their URL in the comment box without additional text (see Figure 2 below). Pharmaceutical sales, pictures of naked people, and offers for high-end (translation: fake) designer shopping make up close to 10% combined, as do wart removal, weight loss, and mail-order brides:
"Wheen tthey have one of their greatt sales, you get a phone call frm youjr perspna shopper that there is a salles promotion."
Who wouldn’t jump at that offer?!

Figure 2: Content of Spam Comments

Interestingly (no, really), many of the spammers don’t spam about their actual products (Figure 2). Most, over 70%, try to hook us in with compliments:
"Thanks for every other excellent article."
"The overall glance of your site is magnificent, as smartly as the content!"
"I have understand your stuff previous to and you're just extremely magnificent."
Aw, go on, you [blush]. I almost feel bad blocking them [not].

Not all spammers share the love, though. We definitely have our share of critics:
"I advise you charter an SEO associate to do the apply for you."
I am more than capable of doing the apply myself, thank you very much. 

"It promised so much when it was initially announced, but delivered so little by the time it was actually released."
That’s just mean.
"You've been lax in keeping up with your diet and exercise program."
Well, screw you and your little website too, NSA. I AM TRYING MY BEST! I walk at least 10 miles a week, have cut way back on alcohol, and we’re on the verge of releasing our second diet cookbook. And I only gobbled down that six-month old Valentine’s Day candy last night because dark chocolate helps with PMS cramps. So quit your spying and leave me the eff ALONE!

Ahem. Back to the comments, the final batch represents our spam fashionistas:
"Christian clothing is becoming more and more popular and for boys that often has a touch of the demon in them."
Christian clothing. Okay, then. Kind of like a mail-order exorcism?
"There will be fewer creases in non-knit fabrics if they are folded in half horizontally." 
Wouldn't the number of creases depend on the number of folds?

And finally, 
"The Shmangle is another similar hooded blanket idea."

Yes! At last, a spam comment I can actually use. Turns out the Shmangle is not only real, but can be purchased for about £22 on Happy Shmangling!

Thursday, August 7, 2014

Turning a Blind Eye

Available from Amazon
The Great Gamble: Nelson at Copenhagen
I'm very partial to a good history book, and I've just come to the end of one of the best that I've read. It has the three criteria that I think make for a good history book: it's meticulously researched; it paints a picture of the broad context of the period, without which any history book can descend to being a list of facts; and it's well-written (sadly, there's a lot of turgid prose out there on the History shelves).

The book is "The Great Gamble: Nelson at Copenhagen" by Dudley Pope. Hard to get hold of these days, and you might think an odd subject for a post here, but as the battle of Copenhagen led to the phrase "turning a blind eye", there is some broader relevance. At the height of the battle, the commanding Admiral (Sir Hyde Parker, who was four miles away, and because of the conditions, coming up very slowly) ordered the attacking fleet to disengage. Nelson ignored this, at one point putting the telescope to his blind eye and saying "I really do not see the signal". Hyde Parker was a cautious commander, judged by Pope to be the wrong man for the job: Pope has a lovely analogy that Parker crossed the North Sea at the start of the mission at the same pace as a child dawdling to school, because of his nervousness over losing ships onto the coast. 

The signal to cease the attack occupies a large chunk of the book plus an Appendix, to debunk a subsequent tale told in Hyde Parker's defence, that the signal was to be obeyed at Nelson's discretion. Pope destroys this with a mix of eye-witness accounts and sound reasoning (the signal was made to the whole fleet, not to Nelson alone, and some ships obeyed it). 

Pope's account of the careers and personal lives of Nelson and Parker, and the background diplomatic failures that led to the battle, are absolutely superb. The battle itself does degenerate into a list of facts as to which ship attacked which, but that's almost unavoidable. 

So I very much enjoyed this.  It won't appeal to all readers, but it certainly has a place on my shelves.