Tuesday, September 8, 2020

Lessons Learned

 


My book on writing horror, Writing in the Dark (named after my blog), will be officially released on Sept. 16th in three glorious editions – hardback, paperback, and ebook. (You can find ordering information after this post.)

 

I always write a blog post whenever I have a new book come out, and this time I wanted to write about a topic that would complement Writing in the Dark without treading the same ground. Eventually, I decided to talk about the most important writing and publishing lessons I’ve learned, whether from teachers, colleagues, students, or my own lived experience. Once that decision was made, I started jotting down notes, and the content poured out of me quickly. All of the lessons I’m going to discuss are ones that have stayed with me over the years, so much so that I didn’t have to sit around racking my brain to try to come up with material to write about. Some of these lessons I’ve covered before in past blogs or in classrooms and workshops I’ve taught, and a few appear in Writing in the Dark as well. But some I’ve never written about before, and some I’ve never discussed with anyone until now. So if you’re a regular reader of my blog, hopefully you’ll still find plenty of new stuff here. What follows isn’t an essay, but rather a list of lessons, and there’s no particular rhyme or reason to how I organized it. You’ll get the lessons in the same random order that they came to me when I started brainstorming. Some of these lessons were life-changing, some of less so, but all of them were – and remain – important to my development as a writer, and I hope you’ll find something of value here.

 

Let’s get started.

 

·         When I was an undergrad, I majored in theater education with a minor in English, but I already knew I wanted to be a writer. I wrote a play that was highly derivative of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, including lyrics (but no music.) I called it Dementia Praecox, and with more than a little trepidation, I asked my acting professor, Dr. Jeffrey Huberman, if he’d read it and give me feedback. Dr. Huberman was one of the toughest – and best – teachers that I’ve ever had, and I was really worried that he was going to hate my play, but I also really valued his opinion, so I waited anxiously for him to read it. He eventually did, and then asked me to come to his office to discuss it. At one point in our discussion, he referred to a stage direction I’d written that said, in part Standard horror shit. I was afraid he was going to object to the word shit, which I realized at that moment wasn’t exactly professional. But what he objected to was the word “standard.” “Why write standard anything?” he asked. “Write something original, something different, something you.” That advice sank deep inside me, and I’ve done my best to not write standard anything ever since.

·         Several years earlier, during my sophomore year in high school, I took my very first creative writing class with Mrs. Vagedes. I wrote a story called “The Last Christmas Elf,” and she thought it was so good she decided to read it to the class. She said she wouldn’t say who wrote it, not unless the person wanted her to. I knew I should claim the story as mine, but I couldn’t bring myself to. Partly because I was fifteen and filled with social anxiety, but also because I was a weird smart kid who sometimes got made fun of for being weird and smart by other kids in the small town where I grew up, and I didn’t want anyone to sneer at me and call me a “brain.” I learned a couple things from this experience. One was that I should be proud of my work and accept it when people had nice things to say about it and want to honor it somehow, whether with a compliment, a positive review, an award, whatever. (I’m still working on this. I have a hard time knowing how to respond when someone praises my writing, especially when they do so face to face.) But I also learned that in many ways, it didn’t matter that I’d written the story. The story existed on its own at that point, and I could still take pride in it, still be gratified that people enjoyed it, regardless if they knew it was my story or not. Stephen King often says, “It’s the tale, not the person who tells it” that’s truly important, and in the end, I have to agree.

·         This experience also led to my first time being interviewed as an author. A local free weekly paper wanted to run a story on my having been named the high school writer of the month. The reporter wanted to meet at her house (I can’t imagine anyone wanting to do that today), and since it was such an important occasion, I wore a three-piece suit and tie. During the interview, I tried to sound as intelligent as I could, and of course I came off sounding stiff and phony. (The interviewer made me sound good in print, though!) From this, I learned not to try too hard in interviews and to do my best to just be myself, although perhaps the best version of myself. I’ve been interviewed many, many times since – maybe hundreds of times by this point – but I’ve never forgotten the lesson I learned from that first time. And I’ve never worn a suit to be interviewed since!

·         As I was learning to be a writer and a teacher of creative writing, I read a lot of how-to-write books. One that I read (sometime in the 1990’s) by a writer whose name escapes me, dealt with writing popular fiction. In the preface, the author wrote that if readers didn’t follow his/her advice exactly, they would never be published writers. I knew that was bullshit, so I closed the book and threw it away. It’s one of only two books I’ve ever thrown away. (The other was a biography of Rod Serling that I bought used, and in which someone had literally filled the margins of every page with notes arguing with the author’s assertions about anything and everything. I figure the world didn’t need to be subjected to that nonsense, so I tossed the book and purchased a new edition.) There is no one way to do anything when it comes to the arts, and anyone who tells you otherwise is an idiot or has very limited experience regarding the many different paths writers take to publication. A writer of how-to advice should be confident in the knowledge they have to share, but not so arrogant as to think their point of view is the be all, end all. That’s why I included mini-interviews with 89 other writers in Writing in the Dark – to make sure readers got to hear voices other than mine.

·         I’ve told this next story many times over the years. During my freshman year in college, students were required to take two composition courses. I tested out of the first one, and after I finished the second, the instructor – a TA named Pam Doyle – had a final conference with students. During our conference, Pam urged me to “take your writing as far as you can.” This remains one of the most important pieces of writing advice I’ve ever received, and it’s a 100% achievable goal. Anyone can take their writing as far as they can, and the advice has no end point. Pam didn’t tell me to publish a novel or have a bestseller or make a million dollars or win tons of awards. She told to keep writing and improving my writing throughout my life. What better advice for a writer is there?

·         In grad school, I wrote a short story about two young friends, one of whom drowns in a lake. The dead boy used to make up stories about a monster in the lake, and after his death, he reappears to his friend as this monster, as a way of saying goodbye. When I told a fellow student about my story, he asked me where it was set. I told him it didn’t matter, that the story was about the two boys, and the lake could be anywhere. Not giving a specific location made it more mythic, like something out of a folktale. My friend told me I had to specify a location because I was an American writer and “All American writers are regionalists.” I told him to read the story. He did, and he agreed that the specific location of the lake wasn’t important and that the story might be more effective for not specifying the location. From this, I learned that writers are given a lot of rules to follow – especially in college lit classes – and they have to be careful to not take these rules too seriously. I tell my students that there is only one real rule in writing: you have to use symbols to express ideas. After that, everything is custom and tradition, techniques that in general work for most readers most of the time.

·         In my late twenties, I had a critique partner who was one of my friends in college. At the time we lived in different states, and in those pre-email days we swapped printed manuscripts via street mail. I also was fortunate to get into a writing group that had several professional writers in it, including fantasy author Dennis L. McKiernan and science fiction writer Lois McMaster Bujold. I wrote a story called “Mr. Punch,” which I consider the first true Tim Waggoner horror story I ever wrote. It had a very surreal, symbolic ending, and when I shared the story with my writing group and my critique buddy, none of them liked the ending. They all thought it should be clearer. I tried rewriting the ending, but every alternate version I came up with felt wrong. I decided to stick with my guns and keep my original ending, for better or worse. “Mr. Punch” became my first professionally published story – appearing in the horror anthology Young Blood – and it received my first honorable mention from Ellen Datlow in The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror. From this experience, I learned that while it’s important not to dismiss feedback outright, it can be even more important to be true to your art.

·         Sometime in my thirties, I was one of the faculty at the Antioch Writers’ Workshop. One day during a lunch break, the literary writer Clint McCowan said to me that “All fiction is mystery.” He wasn’t speaking of the genre of mystery but rather that people read to learn what happens next, who the characters are, who they are becoming, how they are affected by the challenges they face, and so on. Four words – All fiction is mystery – but they say everything about why readers read and how writers should tell their stories.

·         Over several decades of publishing my writing, I’ve learned that people don’t change their reading tastes just because they love you. Almost no one in my family reads the stuff I write, although they’re all very supportive of me and my work. My wife doesn’t like to read scary stuff, but she’ll read my fantasy stories. My daughters, while proud of me, don’t read my stories. To them, my writing is just Dad’s work. My own dad has always been a voracious reader, mostly of science fiction and military adventure. I don’t think he’s ever read a single word I’ve written. My brother is my best friend, and he’s read only a few of my novels. Hopefully, the people in your life are loving and supportive of you and your writing, but don’t expect them to become fans of horror or romance or literary fiction or whatever you write just because they love you. Sure, it’s kind of a bummer sometimes, but I’ve spent my entire life loving all kinds of weird stuff that most people don’t care about, so I’m used to it. Plus, knowing my family doesn’t read my work frees me to write whatever I want without any fear that there will be repercussions in my relationships. You’ll find like-minded weirdos out there in the world, and they’ll become your artistic family.

·         A few years back, I attended a show by magician David Copperfield. As I watched him perform, I knew that the illusions he created were, at their core, simple. What made them seem magical was the way he performed them. I thought of how the same thing applies to any art. We don’t create products for our audience – we create experiences. The best fiction writers know this, whether consciously or not. So don’t just be a writer; strive to be a magician as well. Give readers an experience they’ll never forget.

·         People want horror writers to be weird, and they’re disappointed when they find out we’re no weirder than anyone else. Or at least, not as weird as they hoped we’d be. People who aren’t artists are fascinated by the artistic imagination, and they like to get as close to it as they can. If someone writes stories that have some sort of edge to them – such as horror, crime, and erotica – readers think that by getting to know us, they’re taking a walk on the wild side, that they’re flirting with a dangerous mind. (In reality, it’s more like a walk on the mild side.) I’ve experienced this enough over the years that I do my best not to be dismissive when someone asks a probing questioned designed to reveal the true darkness that dwells within me, but I also don’t play into the image of a horror writer that they’ve created for themselves. I do sometimes make a joke or a comment that has a bit of a dark edge to it, however. People come to us to be entertained, after all, and it can be fun to play “horror writer,” just so long as you don’t get carried away and start chopping people into pieces and hiding the parts beneath the floorboards of your house. That shit starts to smell after a while.

·         I’ve had three agents over the years, and my second agent once told me that writers should “write what burns in their gut’ because that will create your best work and your best work is what will have the greatest chance at selling to editors and readers. Over the years, I’ve done my best to explore the things I feel most passionate about. How do we make meaning in a universe that’s designed solely to devour itself? How do we deal with the darkness within us? How can we overcome what divides us? These have all become themes in my work. So do a gut check to see what you feel strongest about, and remember that whatever it is, you can explore it through the lens of any genre. I choose horror and dark fantasy. You might choose mystery or western or mainstream/literary. Whatever works best for you.

·         I learned a couple things from sitting on convention panels with SF/F writer Mike Stackpole. Like myself, Mike’s written a good deal of tie-in fiction, and someone in the audience asked him if he approached his original fiction differently than his tie-in work. Mike said that as long as a book has his name on it, it’s his book, regardless of whether he created the original property or not, and he does the very best job he can on it. I adopted his attitude, so no matter what I write, who I write it for, how many people will see it, or how much I get paid for it, it’s all my work, and I do the very best job I’m capable of at that time.

·         Something else I learned from Mike: Once on a panel, he spoke about how it’s important to distill the most important elements of your setting/world into a few basic concepts that you need to introduce to the reader relatively early on in a novel. For example, he said that in Battletech fiction, the three most important things readers need to know is that in that universe the galaxy is ruled by families of nobles, they fly dropships, and fight battles in suits of mech armor. And as long as you introduce these concepts somewhere within the book’s first hundred pages, you can write whatever kind of story you want in that setting. He was speaking of a technique for writing tie-in fiction, but I think it can work well for any type of fiction, and it’s a wonderful way to remind writers not to get bogged down in unnecessary detail. For example, what do you need to know to tell a story in the Hellraiser universe? There’s a magic puzzle box. If you solve it, you summon otherworldly S&M gods/demons. If you don’t escape them, they will claim you, take you to their netherworld, and torture you for all eternity. That’s it. You don’t need to stick to just three things, but the fewer elements you focus on, the better, I think.

·         Years ago, Barnes and Noble put out an anthology of flash fiction titled Horrors! 365 Scary Stories. It was originally going to be called A Horror a Day, and the concept was that each story was so short you could easily read one a day for an entire year. Marty Greenberg was the editor, and he put out a call for submissions. Each story was to be no more than 750 words long, and of course it had to be in the horror genre. And because he needed so many stories, he was open to buying more than one from an individual author. I ended up selling him nine stories for the anthology. One of these stories was “Daddy,” about a new father who realizes his baby is literally draining his energy, that this is what all babies do to their parents. At first he sees the baby as a monster, but he comes to realize that the cycle of life going from parent to child is ultimately normal, natural, and good. (Can you tell I was a new father at the time I wrote this?) I’d already written the story but not sold it when Marty put out his call for submissions. The story was fourteen pages long, and when I reread it, I realized I could cut the first eleven pages and the last scene – which was around 750 words – could stand as a story by itself. I had to do very little revision to make the shorter version work, and Marty accepted it for the anthology. From this experience, I learned just how much unnecessary build-up we often write for our stories, and how much better they can be if we focus on the core concept/imagery and get to it as soon as possible. It also taught me to, especially when it comes to short stories, begin as close to the end as possible.

·         One year at a convention, I was talking with the writer John Vornholt. He told me about a recent novel he’d finished, one that had had an extremely short deadline. When he’d first signed the contract, he’d asked his agent how he was going to be able to get the book done in time, and his agent said, “When you’re up, you’re working.” I’ve had some short deadlines for novels myself, and I’ve used this maxim to help me get them written and submitted in time. I wouldn’t recommend this technique as a way to write normally. You’ll end up burning yourself out and wrecking your health. But in the short term, it works.

·         Years ago at a convention (seems like I’ve picked up a lot of good stuff at cons over the years, doesn’t it?), I was talking with author Christie Golden’s husband in the hall outside a room where she was doing a panel. He said that one of the things that had surprised Christie – who by this point had published several novels – was that writing and publishing hadn’t gotten any easier as time went on. Just because you’ve published a few books doesn’t mean that you’ve got it made and you can coast for the rest of your career. You have to keep working, improving, and striving, and you need to learn to weather the ups and downs of a writing career if you hope to have a long one.

·         At yet another con, I heard science fiction writer Mike Resnick say during a reading that “I never argue with readers’ opinions of my work.” I thought this was excellent advice, for several reasons. One is the word opinions. A reader’s response isn’t an all-encompassing final judgment on your work and your abilities as a writer. It’s simply one person’s reaction to something you’ve written. Another reason this is great advice is the word argue. How can you argue with someone’s response to your fiction? How can you tell them they didn’t have the correct response? They had the response they had, and that’s that. Plus, arguing takes energy and it can be draining, and ultimately in this case it’s a waste of time. You can’t somehow go back in time an alter a person’s perception of your work. Not only that, but if you do argue with readers, you come across looking like an insecure jerk. Better to forget that bad review and go on to write something else.

·         And at yet another con, I watched my friend Ron Sarti, who’d published a trilogy of fantasy adventures, talking to fans in the con suite. I was new(ish) to SF cons at the time, and I’d noticed that pros tended to keep a certain distance between themselves and readers. They certainly didn’t hang out with them and treat them as – gasp! – equals. But Ron did. Later, I took him aside and gently tried to explain that he might want to reconsider how he interacted with fans. Ron, who was a couple decades older and wiser than I was, listened politely to my “advice,” and was kind enough not to tell me what an idiot I was being. Even as I spoke to him, I realized what a jackass I was being, and I’ve done my best not to view myself as Important Writer Who Cannot Be Bothered to Interact with the Riff-Raff at cons. Hopefully, I succeed more often than not. I understand why super-famous writers like Neil Gaiman and George R.R. Martin can’t simply stroll around the halls at a con all day. They would be mobbed and never be able to get away. And as for editors and agents, they’d be stuck listening to impromptu hallway pitches the entire weekend if they didn’t maintain a certain distance. If I’m ever tempted to think of myself as Important Writer, all I have to do is remind myself that relatively few people read fiction and that of those who do, even fewer read horror. If I’m at a con where I’m TIM WAGGONER, all I have to do is step outside the hotel, and I’m nobody again. No matter what I do or where I’m at, I’m just a person, which is the most important thing to be anyway, isn’t it?

·         Years ago I read a book called The Renegade Writer by Linda Formichelli and Diana Burrell. The book was geared toward freelance nonfiction writers, and its premise was that the conventional wisdom new writers are taught about publishing isn’t really the way Things Get Done. I’d experienced some of this for myself in working with publishers by this point. I’d learned to approach editors working on invite-only anthologies and ask if I could write a story for them on spec. Every time I did this, I sold the editor a story. So I decided to try some of the advice in The Renegade Writer. Conventional wisdom says never to call editors, but Formichelli and Burrell said writers should try this. I called Wizards of the Coast. I’d sent writing samples in via their website as they requested of all writers who wanted to work with them, but I’d never heard back. Once I tracked down a phone number of an assistant editor via the Internet, I called and explained that I’d been sending samples for several years but never gotten a response. I received an apology (not that I was looking for one), and my call was forwarded to a senior editor. After some discussion, I ended up with a gig to write a couple books in the new Dragonlance YA series. I eventually wrote seven books for WotC before they cut back on publishing fiction. I called Byron Preiss at iBooks and asked if he had any tie-in projects I could write for, and I got a contract to write a novel based on the Defender computer game. I’m always hesitant to share this lesson with new writers, though. I was able to make those calls because I’d already published quite a few short stories as well as several novels. No one will give you a gig if you don’t have an established track record (even if it’s not a very long record), and you run the risk of alienating editors by calling them. Still, I do recommend checking out The Renegade Writer and seeing how you can adapt the authors’ advice for publishing nonfiction to your fiction career.

·         For nine years, I taught in Seton Hill University’s MFA in Writing Popular Fiction program. During one on-campus residency, I was speaking with writer Lawrence C. Connelly in the hall, and he said, “You know, the world will decide how we’ll be remembered.” I thought about this for a long time afterward. In a way it’s a frustrating idea. You can spend your entire career writing, and readers will always remember the one thing you wrote that wasn’t that big a deal to you (or the one thing you hated and wished you’d never created). But on the other, it frees you from worrying about whether this project or that one is more important. It frees you from thinking in terms of reputation and legacy or, in marketing terms, of brand. It allows you to focus on what you want to write at any given moment and not worry about whether this one will be the big hit that breaks you out and makes you a star. Write your stories. Let the world decide how to respond to them.

·         And that seems as good a place as any to end, doesn’t it?

DEPARTMENT OF SHAMELESS SELF-PROMOTION

Writing in the Dark: The Book




 

As I said above, Writing in the Dark will be officially released on Sept. 16th – only two weeks from today! I’ve been doing interviews and podcasts in support of the book, and initial reactions from reviewers have been overwhelmingly positive. Booklist says that it’s “a strong book that should prepare burgeoning writers to make better monsters and stronger stories.” All formats – hardcover, paperback, and ebook – are available to order. I hope you’ll help spread the word about the book when it’s released. My goal is to help as many people as I can write better horror, and I’ll appreciate any assistance you can give me.

 

Raw Dog Screaming Press

 

Both hardcover and paperback: http://rawdogscreaming.com/books/writing-in-the-dark/

 

Amazon

 

Hardcover: https://www.amazon.com/Writing-Dark-Tim-Waggoner/dp/1947879235/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=tim+waggoner+writing+in+the+dark&qid=1598056385&s=books&sr=1-1

 

Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1947879197?pf_rd_r=CV72R8B4GT0MWK71FX4S&pf_rd_p=edaba0ee-c2fe-4124-9f5d-b31d6b1bfbee

 

Ebook: https://www.amazon.com/Writing-Dark-Tim-Waggoner-ebook/dp/B08GCZ6GK9/ref=sr_1_3?dchild=1&keywords=tim+waggoner+writing+in+the+dark&qid=1598056446&s=books&sr=1-3

 

Barnes and Noble

 

Hardcover: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/writing-in-the-dark-tim-waggoner/1137057460?ean=9781947879232

 

Paperback: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/writing-in-the-dark-tim-waggoner/1137057460?ean=9781947879195

 

Some Kind of Monster




 

Some Kind of Monster, my new novella from Apex Publishing, is now out! Here’s the synopsis:

 

Throughout her life, Angie has lost loved ones to stupid, meaningless deaths. As an adult she begins researching urban legends, hoping to find proof that something exists beyond our mundane world. Is there magic? Is there an existence beyond this life? Is there any kind of meaning to it all even if that meaning is a dark one? In the end, Angie will get her answer, and she'll learn that reality isn't just darker than she thinks: It's some kind of monster.

 

Order Links:

 

Apex Book Company

 

All formats: https://www.apexbookcompany.com/products/some-kind-of-monster?variant=34275237855369

 

Amazon

 

Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/Some-Kind-Monster-Tim-Waggoner/dp/1937009823/ref=sr_1_7?Adv-Srch-Books-Submit.x=36&Adv-Srch-Books-Submit.y=14&dchild=1&qid=1595093850&refinements=p_27%3Atim+waggoner&s=books&sr=1-7&unfiltered=1

 

Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/Some-Kind-Monster-Tim-Waggoner-ebook/dp/B08D6RYQRX/ref=sr_1_6?Adv-Srch-Books-Submit.x=36&Adv-Srch-Books-Submit.y=14&dchild=1&qid=1595092355&refinements=p_27%3Atim+waggoner&s=books&sr=1-6&unfiltered=1

 

Barnes and Noble

 

NOOK Book: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/some-kind-of-monster-tim-waggoner/1137349308?ean=2940162841401

 

B&N Paperback: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/some-kind-of-monster-tim-waggoner/1137349308?ean=9781937009823

 

New Article in Nightmare Magazine Free to Read




 

I’ve written an article for Nightmare Magazine’s The H Word column titled “The H Word: The Irrational Vs the Rational.” It’s about the necessary and important tension between the irrational and the rational in horror, and it’s free to read online: https://www.nightmare-magazine.com/nonfiction/the-h-word-the-rational-vs-the-irrational/

 

Your Turn to Suffer Available for Preorder




 

My next book from Flame Tree Press, Your Turn to Suffer, is now available for preorder at Amazon and Barnes and Noble. The book’s due out March 23, 2021. Here’s the synopsis:

Lorelei Palumbo is harassed by a sinister group calling themselves The Cabal. They accuse her of having committed unspeakable crimes in the past, and now she must pay. The Cabal begins taking her life apart one piece at a time – her job, her health, the people she loves – and she must try to figure out what The Cabal thinks she’s done if she’s to have any hope of answering their charges and salvaging her life.

 

This book takes place in the same town at The Mouth of the Dark, although it’s not a direct sequel, and it’s the second appearance of the Nightway, an extradimensional highway that first appeared in my novel The Harmony Society way back in 2003! It was a lot of fun to write, and I hope you’ll check it out.

 

Preorder Links for Your Turn to Suffer:

 

Amazon

 

Hardcover: https://www.amazon.com/Your-Suffer-Fiction-Without-Frontiers/dp/1787585182/ref=sr_1_1?Adv-Srch-Books-Submit.x=36&Adv-Srch-Books-Submit.y=14&qid=1595094938&refinements=p_27%3Atim+waggoner&s=books&sr=1-1&unfiltered=1

 

Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/Your-Suffer-Fiction-Without-Frontiers/dp/1787585166/ref=sr_1_2?Adv-Srch-Books-Submit.x=36&Adv-Srch-Books-Submit.y=14&dchild=1&qid=1595093899&refinements=p_27%3Atim+waggoner&s=books&sr=1-2&unfiltered=1

 

Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/Your-Suffer-Fiction-Without-Frontiers-ebook/dp/B08CVSNW16/ref=sr_1_1?Adv-Srch-Books-Submit.x=36&Adv-Srch-Books-Submit.y=14&dchild=1&qid=1595095017&refinements=p_27%3Atim+waggoner&s=books&sr=1-1&unfiltered=1

 

Barnes and Noble

 

Hardcover: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/your-turn-to-suffer-tim-waggoner/1137330372?ean=9781787585188

 

Paperback: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/your-turn-to-suffer-tim-waggoner/1137330372?ean=9781787585164

 

NOOK Book: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/your-turn-to-suffer-tim-waggoner/1137330372?ean=9781787585201

 

Newsletter

 

Want to subscribe to my newsletter? I send it out once a month or so, and along with all the Tim Waggoner news you crave, there are tips on writing and publishing, as well as glimpses behind the scenes of my writing life. Go here to subscribe:

 

http://timwaggoner.com/contact.htm

 

Social Media

 

Want to follow me on social media? Here’s where you can find me:

 

Twitter: @timwaggoner

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/tim.waggoner.9

Instagram: tim.waggoner.scribe

Blog: http://writinginthedarktw.blogspot.com/

YouTube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCZEz6_ALPrV3tdC0V3peKNw

Friday, August 7, 2020

Out with the Old, In with the New?

 

On August 1st, the Hugo Awards were presented during a live streaming ceremony at CONZealand. And – as isn’t uncommon in the science fiction community – some controversy resulted. If you’re not familiar with what went down, here’s a decent short summary: 

https://thewertzone.blogspot.com/2020/08/the-hugo-awards-2020-or-how-not-to-run.html

Not mentioned in the above-linked blog post are the constant references during the ceremony to John W. Campbell, lauded SF editor who was also a racist and fascist (https://www.blackgate.com/2019/08/24/john-w-campbell-was-a-racist-and-a-loon-a-response-to-jeannette-ngs-campbell-award-acceptance-speech/), and a Retro Hugo that was awarded to the Cthulhu Mythos (as opposed to H.P. Lovecraft himself, which was weird). Lovecraft’s racism is well documented (https://lithub.com/we-cant-ignore-h-p-lovecrafts-white-supremacy/), and the John W. Campbell award for best new writer, also traditionally presented at the Hugos, was recently renamed the Astounding Award to remove Campbell’s name.

I’ve been a member of SFWA (The Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America) as long as I’ve been a member of HWA (The Horror Writers Association) – close to thirty years now. While I’ve been more involved with HWA throughout the years, my writing output often overlaps with fantasy and science fiction, especially in my tie-in fiction, so I’ve maintained my SFWA membership. Controversy is common to both the science fiction and horror communities, although to my mind, SF has more. A lot more. I’m not sure why this is. Maybe it’s just an effect of having a lot of really smart, passionate, expressive people who care a great deal about their genre working in the field. So it would be easy to dismiss the current controversy over the Hugo ceremony as just another in a long line of kerfuffles in the SF community. But that would be a mistake. It’s a sign that times are changing (or perhaps, more accurately, already have changed and not everyone has realized this yet or come to terms with it).

Not long ago, a group of writers calling themselves the Sad Puppies tried to take over the Hugos. The writers ranged from political conservatives who longed for a return to the good old days of SF (and who wanted to combat what they saw as leftist domination of the genre) to racist/fascist writers who were sometimes separately known as the Rabid Puppies. (Don’t look at me like that; I didn’t make up these nicknames). You can learn more about the Puppies here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sad_Puppies#:~:text=Sad%20Puppies%20was%20an%20unsuccessful,science%20fiction%20or%20fantasy%20works. This is one reason why Dragoncon’s Dragon Awards came into being – so these writers could have awards that they might be able to more successfully game.

The World Fantasy Award, presented yearly at the World Fantasy Convention, was designed by Gahan Wilson to look like an Easter Island-style head of H.P. Lovecraft. A few years back people began pointing out that it might not be the best idea to have an award that looks like a racist – especially when such an award is presented to people of color. A war of words followed, led by those who believed you should Respect Tradition against those who said Fuck Tradition. You can read more about this controversy – and the award’s redesign – here: https://www.theguardian.com/books/2015/nov/09/world-fantasy-award-drops-hp-lovecraft-as-prize-image

In the wake of the most recent Hugos, I’ve seen a lot of writers post messages on social media talking about the “old guard” and “gatekeepers” and “old white men” and canons in literature, and how science fiction should be looking forward, not backward. I read one post which said, in reference to the old guard and the concept of a canon of classic works that everyone in a field should read, that “We need to tear down their statues and erect statues of ourselves. They’re not gods. We’re the gods!”

Women and BIPOC and LQBTQ+ and youngers writers are no longer meekly asking for a place at the table, nor are they simply demanding one. They’re flipping the goddamn table over, breaking it apart, and burning the pieces, all with the intention of constructing a new table of their own. The revolution is here, and not only do I think this is good (and well overdue), I think it’s natural and inevitable. The young always seek to supplant the old, to assume positions of respect, to take their turn in the spotlight, to get their chance to lead and make their mark on the world. In response, the old guard has two choices: welcome the young and step gracefully aside or fight tooth and nail to hold onto their place. Those who fight may resent the young for getting too big for their britches, they may be afraid of being consigned to irrelevance, or both. And sometimes those who fight do so because they aren’t getting to handpick their successors, writers who – surprise! – usually look a lot like them, think like them, and write like them. (In essence, they want to create their own “writer children” to carry on for them when they’re gone.)

This sort of young vs old, new vs tradition, innovation vs tried-and-true has gone on in the arts probably since the first human artist painted a bison on a cave wall and a younger artist looked at it and thought, I could do that. Hell, I could do better than that. As I said, it’s a natural and healthy process for art and culture, but that doesn’t mean it’s not hard and messy sometimes. And maybe that’s a natural part of it too, or at least a natural byproduct.

So . . . what’s the best way for writers to react during times of cultural transition like this?

I have no easy answers, but – and I’m sure this will come as no surprise to you – I do have some thoughts.

Who or what is the Old Guard?

And just how old do you have to be to qualify as a member? I’m 56. Does that make me one of the old guard? And if so, just what the hell am I guarding? In the arts, old implies traditional ways of doing things, and guard implies a protector who’s keeping intruders from entering. And there’s a connotation to Old Guard, I think, of someone who’s overstayed his or her welcome. Writers who haven’t produced new work in years, perhaps even decades, but who still expect to be treated like royalty by younger writers qualify as Old Guard to me. These writers act as if they’re the fount of all wisdom in the field, the keepers of its true history, and the only ones who can recognize real talent and anoint the new members of the tribe. (People who, by some strange coincidence, are usually drawn from among their sycophantic followers – which is why they get followers in the first place.) They are suspicious if not actively hostile to new ideas and ways of doing things, and they long for the good old days, when real writers wrote real fiction, not like the kind of stuff those people produce today. They spend a lot of time telling stories about the Golden Age of Writing and Publishing and constantly focus on themselves. If they’re on a panel at a convention, they try to hog the spotlight or, if another Old Guardian is on the panel, they’ll talk to each other (and reminisce together) and ignore the other, younger writers present.

So if you’re a member of the Old Guard – or want to make sure you don’t ever fit the above description – here are some things you can do.

1) Accept you’re growing older and embrace it.

I think a lot of the Old Guard’s problem with the young is that the young are undeniable evidence that their time is passing and that Death is tiptoeing ever closer. Psychologically, if the Old Guard can hold onto their place in the culture, if they can fend off the advance of the young ones, they can fend off Death. Well, I got some bad news for you, pard. Ain’t gonna work. All of us are aging at the same rate and we’re all going to die sooner or later, and everything we’ve ever done won’t matter more than a kitten fart in a hurricane. And there’s not a goddamn thing you can do about it. You can live in denial or learn to live with it. Your choice.

When I was in high school, I heard this old joke about the different stages of an actors’ career, and it applies to any art, including writing. Stage One: Who’s Tim Waggoner? Stage Two: Get me Tim Waggoner! Stage Three: Get me a Tim Waggoner type. Stage Four: Who’s Tim Waggoner? I’m glad I heard this joke when I was young because it prepared me for what it was going to be like to have a career in writing. It told me that the progression – as melancholy as it is – was a natural and inevitable one. I have no idea where I’m at in this cycle (maybe I never left the Who’s Tim Waggoner? stage), but hopefully I’ll be able to get through each stage with at least a modicum of grace and without having a complete emotional breakdown at the end. (What can I say? My goals are modest ones.)

2) Find meaning in mentoring the young and sharing what you know.

It can be hard for someone who’s always viewed themselves as a doer, as an achiever, to transition into being someone who helps others do and achieve. But mentoring and teaching are natural ways for, shall we say, seasoned writers to contribute to their community. Once, back in the early 90’s on the proto-social media site GEnie, I saw George R.R. Martin post that young writers should just quit because they were making it hard for established writers like him to earn a living. I’m not sure how serious Martin was, but such a comment is like asking the Earth to stop turning. The young are coming, whether you like it or not, and while they can find their way just fine on their own, you can make it easier by helping them. Mentoring and teaching are excellent ways to give back to your community, to keep yourself involved with it, and to find meaning in the latter part of your career. They’ll keep you creatively engaged and, if you’ve never done much mentoring or teaching before, you’ll be expanding your horizons as an artist. I’ve been both writing and teaching for the last thirty-something years, and I can’t imagine my life without doing both. The old cliché is true – I’ve learned as much about writing from teaching it as I have from doing it. Teaching and mentoring have helped develop me as an artist in ways writing by itself never would have.

There are all kinds of ways for you to mentor or teach. Writers’ organizations like HWA have mentor programs you can volunteer for. If you see a writer post on social media that they’re looking for a mentor, you can reach out and offer to be one for them. You can post on social media that you’re happy to answer questions about writing and publishing at any time. You can create a blog like my Writing in the Dark. You can write articles for publications like Writer’s Digest or The Writer, for writing organization’s newsletters or websites, or for your own website. You can do workshops at conventions, be a panelist on topics related to writing and publishing, be accessible to new writers at cons so you can have conversations with them and answer whatever any questions they might have. You can offer to read and critique manuscripts (whether you do it for free or charge people). You can post videos about writing on your own YouTube channel. You can offer your own classes online, or deliver them at libraries or rec centers. You can start a writers’ group for new writers and host it. There are tons of ways for you to teach and mentor – pick one or two that sound good and give them a try.

3) Don’t stop writing, and maybe try something new.

Old Guard writers seem to just stop producing new work after a while. I’m not sure why. Maybe their publishers are no longer interested in seeing new stuff from them, or maybe they get tired of writing the same kind of stories they’ve been publishing for years. I think some Old Guard writers resent newer writers because the young ones still have the fire in the belly that they’ve lost somewhere along the way. I also think some Old Guard writers spend so much time reminiscing about the good old days because that’s the last time they felt like regularly-producing writers. If you’re truly ready to retire from writing, there’s nothing wrong with that. But as long as you want to write, you should. The world needs your stories as much as it needs any others. If mass-market publishing doesn’t want your work anymore, go to the small press or self-publish. Self-publishing through Amazon has become ridiculously simple these days. Don’t think of these new markets as a come down from bigger publishers. They’re just different venues for you to get your work out to readers, that’s all. It’s the work and getting that work to readers that matters, regardless of how many readers you have and how you reach them.

One of my favorite writers, Lawrence Block, is in his eighties. He began writing and publishing when he was in his early twenties, and he’s never stopped. Over the last decade or so he’s gotten into self-publishing, bringing out his extensive backlist on ebook and audio, as well as new paperback editions. He’s also shifted into doing something new: editing anthologies. And he self-published a new novel, Dead Girl Blues, on his 82nd birthday. He says it’s probably his last novel, but he can’t be sure of that. If the spirit moves him, he may write another. It seems to me that Block has paced his career as if he’s a long-distance runner, producing steadily throughout the decades while adapting to an ever-changing publishing landscape. He also still teaches from time to time. He’s focused on reaching his readers and contributing to his field, not on making sales or resting on his laurels and being venerated as some grand literary lion. (If you’re not familiar with Block, you can check out his website here: http://lawrenceblock.com/)

Try something new. Write in a different genre. Write some nonfiction. Write poetry. Keep it fresh for yourself and you’ll never be one of the Old Guard.

5) Accept and welcome the young, listen to them and learn from them. And if you can’t do these things, then get the hell out of the way.

I think a lot of Old Guard writers don’t see themselves as part of a community of writers but rather as individuals assailed by younger competing writers out to dethrone them – the aging Wild West gunfighter always on the lookout for a new gunfighter out to make a name by challenging him. And Old Guard writers (and editors and agents) do have one good reason to be wary: If they’re prominent enough, many hungry young writers are desperate to connect to them and use them to further their own careers. I’ve never been prominent enough to have this happen to me, but I’ve seen it happen to others. Before long, these members of the Old Guard withdraw from contact with new writers. They can’t possibly help them all, and new writers wildly overestimate the help members of the Old Guard can give them. But if you can view yourself not as a loner but as a member of a community, you might feel less threatened by the young. And if your community is an insular circle of writers and publishing professionals that you’ve interacted with since the age of the dinosaurs, you should consider broadening your sense of community to include young writers and writers from backgrounds different than your own. Listen to these young writers, read their work, learn from them. I believe I can learn from anyone, from an infant to someone experiencing the last few seconds of their life. I don’t think in terms of who knows more than I do, who is more experienced, who is more skilled. I think in terms of what can I learn from them? I think of new writers as colleagues, regardless of how experienced or accomplished they are yet (or even as just potential colleagues). I try to treat all my creative writing students at the college where I teach as potential colleagues, even though I know damn well the vast majority of them won’t ever have a writing career. Hell, they may never write another word after they leave my class. But I don’t know which of them may develop into professional writers. I know some will because some have. And if nothing else, I was once a student in a creative writing class, and I eventually became a professional.

But if for whatever reason you can’t, or simply aren’t interested, in broadening your community and interacting with younger writers, accept that your time on center stage is over and leave them the fuck alone. Not only are you fighting the inevitable by trying to keep young writers from stepping onto the stage, you’re making a damn fool of yourself in the process. Which leads me to . . .

6) Decide what you want your legacy to be.

There’s only so much you can do about this. The world will decide how each of us will be remembered (if at all). But who wants to be remembered as an old, washed-up, out-of-touch, get-off-my-goddamn-lawn-you-miserable-kids writer? Do you want people to remember you for your work and your contributions to your literary community? Or do you want them to remember you as an asshole? Choose wisely.  

Moving on . . .

Okay, if you’re a young writer – young in terms of your career, at least – here are some things for you to think about when it comes to your response to the tension between the Old Guard and the new.

1) Fuck ‘em. Burn it all down and start over.

First off, you don’t have to deal with the Old Guard in any way, shape, or form if you don’t want to. Cast them out, destroy what they’ve build, and replace it with whatever you want. It’s the Circle of Life, baby. What you build may in the end be not all that different from what the Old Guard created, and it may or may not be better (however you gauge better), but it will be yours. And there’s nothing wrong with that. (And if this is how you feel, you can skip the next few items and head on down to where I plug my latest stuff.)

2) Don’t worship the Old Guard but don’t throw them aside entirely.

I think that in its own way, hero worship is just as dehumanizing as demonizing a person. Regarding someone as a hero means that we’re not giving them the simple respect of acknowledging them as a person with faults and weaknesses along with their virtues and strengths. I know it’s been hard for me over the years to learn that writers I admire weren’t always sterling representatives of humanity. One of the writers whose work I most admire had the reputation for keeping money he or she was supposed to pay to writers in anthologies he or she edited. (Don’t ask me who it is; I’ll never tell you, and since this person is deceased, there’s no need to warn you not to work with him or her.) Being an English major in college – during both my undergraduate and graduate years – helped prepare me for this. The English professors I had discussed famous authors’ backgrounds, warts and all, dispassionately. Still, it’s one thing to learn that dead authors weren’t always paragons of virtue. It’s another to learn that writers you’ve met aren’t either.

As I said earlier, I believe I can learn something from anyone, so I’ve never had the “fuck the Old Guard” mentality. But I’ve never worshipped them either. When I first started out, I tried to learn from professionals as well as from my peers, but there wasn’t social media like there is now, and so my peers were a few friends who also were serious about writing. My access to professionals – through bookstores, libraries, and magazines – meant I was exposed to far more pros than peers. Today’s social media landscape seems to be the exact opposite. There are massive groups of peers supporting each other and reinforcing ideas about what it means to be a professional writer, what are the best practices in writing, and how to best publish and promote yourself. And when someone from the Old Guard says something that contradicts this massive peer group, the peer group circles the wagon, says the Old Guard member is full of shit (and probably a horrible person to boot) and ignore whatever it was that they said without considering its merits. As a teacher this frustrates me. I want writers to be able to learn the most they can from whatever source they can. As a writer I shrug and figure these writers will either sink or swim on their own, and I focus on producing my own work and don’t worry about it. I sure as shit won’t engage these people online. What’s the point? I’ve tried in the past, and instead of helping them, all I did was piss them off and draw a lot of fire my way. I don’t enjoy conflict (which means I don’t enjoy much of social media), and I have better things to do than waste time in useless virtual combat that could better be spent doing literally anything else.

Another aspect of social media culture (speaking from my own point of view) is that there’s a tendency to immediately ostracize someone the instant they do something online culture deems as unforgiveable. Support is withdrawn, connections severed, and this person is branded anathema forever after. I understand this completely when it comes to individuals attacking and harassing others in any way and lobbying against any type of human rights. I don’t want to support racists, sexists, or homophobes. But there are times – like the current Hugo Awards – where writers are shunned for being kinda-sorta-maybe racist and sexist. Both Bob Silverberg and George R.R. Martin lauded John W. Campbell at the Hugo ceremony (like, a lot) and ignored or were dismissive of newer writers nominated (which, considering that these writers came from diverse backgrounds and counted many women among them, could be construed as racist and sexist). So yeah, Silverberg and Martin were assholes. But does that mean people can’t still learn something from them? I don’t know. I’ve never read Silverberg (I’ve tried but could never get into his stuff), and while I enjoyed Martin’s pre-Westeros fiction, The Song of Ice and Fire bores me to tears, and I’ve never been able to get into it either. Considering that there are a bazillion other writers for people to learn from, shunning Silverberg and Martin (or whoever) is no big deal, but I do think younger writers do themselves a disservice if they assume all Old Guard writers are the same and that they and their work should be avoided and disregarded.

3) Don’t worship the canon but don’t (completely) ignore it.

First off, canon isn’t a real thing, not in the sense of there being a single ultimate list of books that a young writer needs to read in order to be able to successfully produce their own. Canon is a construct created by academics so they can have fun arguing with each other over what should or shouldn’t be in it, so they can have dissertation topics, and so they can more easily create a course syllabus. But since anything humans create is a construct to one degree or another, this doesn’t make any particular list bad. It’s just a list. Lists are useful to contribute to conversations about art and to give new writers ideas of works they might like to check out. But if an Old Guard member says you must read particular works to be a real writer, they’re full of shit. In the academic world, there’s tension between literature people and creative writing people. The lit crowd focuses on reading, dissecting, and deeply understanding older works, and the creative writing folks are more interested in what’s being published now since their focus is on producing new work for current-day readers. When a creative writing person becomes one of the Old Guard, the current works they read when starting out become part of their personal canon, and they then present that list as what all new writers should read. Basically, in the end, we all become our parents, right?

I think it’s a mistake to reject all older works outright, though. I’ll read whatever strikes my fancy, whatever piques my curiosity, or whatever I think I can learn from. I tend not to read anything earlier than the 19th century, and I usually focus on more current work. When I first started out as a writer, I read more older stuff because I wanted to get a feel for the history of genre fiction and learn what worked and didn’t work, and so I wouldn’t have to reinvent the wheel. These days, if I read older stuff, it’s usually because I’ve become interested in a particular writer and want to check out more of what they’ve produced over the years. Mostly I try to keep up with contemporaries of mine and check out work from interesting new writers (often people I’ve come to know a bit via social media.) I’ve spent my life making my own canon, and I think that’s what all writers should do. As long as you read fiction and your reading is feeding your artistic self, you’re good. But consider checking out some older stuff from time to time – especially if writers you admire praise it. You might find something of worth in it, even if it only shows you how not to write.

4) Accept that you’re going to be the Old Guard one day – and probably sooner than you think.

If you’re fortunate enough to make some sort of career for yourself as a writer, and that career lasts long enough, you’ll soon move on from being a promising newcomer to an exciting fresh voice to a reliable pro to well-seasoned veteran to a member of the Old Guard that new up-and-comers want to supplant. When this happens, try to remember what it was like to be a young writer and don’t castigate the new guard for being full of piss and vinegar and wanting to take on and conquer the whole fucking world by doing things their way. After all, that was once you, and not so long ago.

DEPARTMENT OF SHAMELESS SELF-PROMOTION

SOME KIND OF MONSTER OUT THIS MONTH


I’ve got a new novella coming from Apex Publishing on August 25th! It’s called Some Kind of Monster. Here’s the synopsis:

Throughout her life, Angie has lost loved ones to stupid, meaningless deaths. As an adult she begins researching urban legends, hoping to find proof that something exists beyond our mundane world. Is there magic? Is there an existence beyond this life? Is there any kind of meaning to it all even if that meaning is a dark one? In the end, Angie will get her answer, and she'll learn that reality isn't just darker than she thinks: It's some kind of monster.

Preorder Links for Some Kind of Monster

Apex Book Company

Special sale price on preorders!

All formats: https://www.apexbookcompany.com/products/some-kind-of-monster?variant=34275237855369

Amazon

Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/Some-Kind-Monster-Tim-Waggoner/dp/1937009823/ref=sr_1_7?Adv-Srch-Books-Submit.x=36&Adv-Srch-Books-Submit.y=14&dchild=1&qid=1595093850&refinements=p_27%3Atim+waggoner&s=books&sr=1-7&unfiltered=1

Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/Some-Kind-Monster-Tim-Waggoner-ebook/dp/B08D6RYQRX/ref=sr_1_6?Adv-Srch-Books-Submit.x=36&Adv-Srch-Books-Submit.y=14&dchild=1&qid=1595092355&refinements=p_27%3Atim+waggoner&s=books&sr=1-6&unfiltered=1

Barnes and Noble

NOOK Book: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/some-kind-of-monster-tim-waggoner/1137349308?ean=2940162841401

B&N Paperback: Link still to come.

WRITING IN THE DARK: THE BOOK IS ALMOST HERE


Writing in the Dark will be out from Raw Dog Screaming Press’s nonfiction imprint Guide Dog Books on September 16th, but it’s available for preorder now. Only the print version is up at the moment, but eventually the ebook will be available as well.

Mother Horror reviewed the book on her blog as well as Goodreads. She gave it five stars and said, “I loved this book and enjoyed all of the helpful tips from someone who knows what they're talking about. I will be coming back to this book over and over again.”

Preorder Links for Writing in the Dark

Raw Dog Screaming Press: http://rawdogscreaming.com/books/writing-in-the-dark/

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1947879197?pf_rd_r=CV72R8B4GT0MWK71FX4S&pf_rd_p=edaba0ee-c2fe-4124-9f5d-b31d6b1bfbee

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/writing-in-the-dark-tim-waggoner/1137057460?ean=9781947879195

EBOOK EDITION OF THE HARMONY SOCIETY IS (FINALLY) AVAILABLE


It’s been a long time coming but The Harmony Society finally has an ebook edition.

Here’s a synopsis:

Reality and nightmare. Past and present. Sanity and madness. For Nathan Bennett, there is no longer any difference between them - not since the Harmony Society came into his life. Now, as his world begins to collapse around him, Nathan must travel the strange and dangerous roads of the Nightway in search of the Dark Angel - a being of great power that the Harmony Society desperately wishes to control. But even if Nathan reaches the Angel first, what waits for him at the end of his long, dark road: salvation . . . damnation . . . Or both?

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Harmony-Society-Tim-Waggoner-ebook/dp/B08DWWNL5V/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=harmony+society+tim+waggoner&qid=1596635431&sr=8-1

NEWSLETTER

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