The Day in Fanfic

Helen Kaye has just discovered slash fanfic and she doesn’t get the appeal.

[The] "writing" tends to be based on existing television show characters where the
male actors are not gay on the show but where the slash writing puts them in
homoerotic relationships.  Yes, this appears to be a violation of, well,
everything.  Using other people’s characters?  That certainly doesn’t seem right
to me.  Putting these well known characters in situations that, at best, can be
described as out of context?  Well, that’s just wrong in my book. 

Meanwhile,  John Scalzi sees fanfic, even "slash" fanfic, as a barometer of success.

Honestly, though, if I were the creator of a science fiction or fantasy media
property (as opposed to a mere book author) and I didn’t find evidence of fanfic
online, I would be very worried. People don’t write fanfic if they
aren’t already so enthralled by your universe that they can’t handle the fact
you’re not producing it any faster, and are thus compelled to make some of their
own — the methadone, if you will, to your pure, sweet media property heroin… And if they’re writing slash (fanfic with sex!), chances are excellent that
you’re sucking in all of their take home pay that doesn’t go to rent, food and
cat products. It is the Buffy slash writers who paid for Joss Whedon’s boat (or
whatever other particularly silly display of wealth that he’s purchased for
himself).

You know how I feel on this topic, so I’ll refrain from comment. ..but yours are certainly welcome!

(Thanks to Wendy Duren and Jim Winter  for pointing me to these posts)

 

The Ghostly Junk Yard

My Mom was cleaning out her garage and found a handwritten story I wrote when I was ten, called THE GHOSTLY JUNKYARD. Here it is:

One day John and Juan went to the old house with a chicken coop and old cars. The old house was supposed to be haunted. So while Juan, who was 10, and John, who was 10, were looking around, John exclaimed: "LOOK, a ghost by the house!"

Juan looked back but there was nothing. Again John yelled the same thing but again Juan saw nothing. John said it was white in the shape of a person. Hair was white and shoes and everything.

The next day as they walked by the house they both saw a ghost run behind a tree. John and Juan had a reputation as Mystery Solvers. Last year they apprehended some bank robbers in Shanty Town. So to not attract attention they kept walking.

The next day they went in to the house and found a skeleton on the floor in front of the door! It had a hole in its head. It went right through his head. They quickly took a shovel from the junk and buried him. Later they went in the old house again and went to the haunted tower. When John saw a man laying bleeding from a hole through his head, he quickly ran to get Juan. When they came back it was gone! Later they searched the room and found a trapdoor and voices came out.

It was the bank robbers they arrested last year! Quickly they turned on Juan’s tape recorder and hid it while they got the police. An hour later they came back with the police and a police man said that John and Juan should go down the trapdoor so the police could arrest the robbers.

As they went down, a guy said "It’s those two finks who shot them." But the police came down and arrested them and the tape was solid evidence. So the robbers were sent to jail and Juan and John got rewarded.

What’s interesting to me is how much that reads like the stuff my nine-year-old daughter Madison is writing. Here is one of her latest stories, IN THE DARK MOVIE THEATRE.

  On one rainy day a girl named Jenny and
her dad Andrew were going to the movie theaters. They were going to see
“Because of Winn Dixie.” In the middle of the movie, Jenny’s dad heard a terrifying
sound and he was pretty sure it was not from the movie.

Andrew looked for Jenny…but she wasn’t there.

Suddenly Andrew saw a strange tall man
behind him holding Jenny by the throat!

Andrew got his cell phone out and dialed
911!

  Andrew said to the police, “ Help me my daughter is getting murderd by a
strange tall man. Come to the movie theaters immediately!”

Jenny’s dad knew Tae Kwon Do but he forgot
how to use the moves.

The strange tall man ran away with Jenny.

The strange tall man went in his car, and
took Jenny with him.

The police couldn’t find him.

The strange tall man went inside his house
with Jenny. He gave her a cup of something and said, “Drink this it will make
you feel better.”

Jenny drank it and was hypnotized. The man
ordered Jenny to kill her father!!

The strange tall man said, “Go find your
father and kill him! Do it now!”

Jenny said, “I will find my father and
will kill him with this large pointy knife!”

The strange man said, “Your father is at
your house calling everybody in the neighborhood.”

Jenny said, “How do you know??”

The man said, “ I have a special computer
that tells me where everybody is.”

“OH!” Jenny said.

Jenny went in the man’s car and went to
Jenny’s house. But one bad thing: she lived in a gated community!

Jenny had a great idea. Jenny said to the
guard, “You can let us in because I live here.”

The guard said, “Go in.”

Jenny and the strange man went to the
house, and got out of the car. The strange man hid behind a bush. Jenny hugged
Andrew and put the knife in her father’s back!

The strange man said, “Jenny we have to go
before your mother comes!”

Jenny saw her mother and said, “Hi Mom!”
Jenny’s Mom said, “What happened to
your father??”

Jenny said, “I have no clue what
happened!”

“What are you holding behind your back?” Jenny’s Mom took the knife out of Jenny’s hand.  “Did you kill your father?”

Jenny started running to the car in got in.
Jenny’s Mom called the guard and said, “Don’t open the gate my daughter just
killed my husband!”

The guard said, “Okay.”

When Jenny’s Father was dead, Jenny’s
Mother invited many neighbors and many relatives to attend the funeral. Many
people were very sad, especially Jenny’s Mother.

The police found Jenny and the strange man. The man went to prison and
Jenny was normal again.

Jenny’s Mother got married and had a baby and everyone was happy. Very
happy! 

A Writer’s Process

Prolific author Lynn Viehl talks, in a series of interesting entries on her blog, about her novel writing process.

While I’m writing the book I do not back-track to read and mess
with what I’ve written, edit or rewrite the new material as it lands on
the page, change my mind about the story, hate myself, hate the work,
avoid the work, wait for the planets to align correctly before I write,
let my inner rabid bitch off her leash, wonder how what I write will
affect the reader, worry about the state of my soul, chakrahs or ego,
or otherwise railroad myself.

My apologies in advance to the
writers who do any/all of the above. My methods are a professional
necessity, because honestly I could not handle what you do in order to
write a novel.

She also mentions that she gets an advance of about $21,000 a book which, because she mentions it so often on her blog, comes across more like boasting than informative candor.

In  another post, she discusses how she pitches her book projects to editors. Once she has a deal, it’s time to…

… move into the construction phase of the novel
process. I’ve already done the imagining, researching, and outlining for the novel, and I probably have at least a hundred pages of it written as part of the pitch, so everything is ready to go.

A hundred pages? No wonder she can just write without angst… she’s already gone through all her angst, and made all the tough decisions, in her massive (way too massive, in my opinion) sales and outlining process.

I "sell" my DIAGNOSIS MURDER novels (and now my MONK books) on the basis of a punchy page that reads more like book-jacket copy… and then I write a beat sheet for myself that oulines the rest of the plot. By beat sheet, I mean a crude version of the outlines we write in the episodic television business (you can see samples on my website or in my book SUCCESSFUL TELEVISION WRITING).  All together, it might amount to ten pages, mostly in bullet-point form. A hundred pages? Good God.

Unlike Lynn, I also rewrite my books as I go, usually starting my work each day by editing whatever I’ve written the night before. Then again, I also go through almost all of the whining and self-doubt that Lynn manages to avoid…but in the end, I think it helps my work. It forces me to concentrate on plot and character… and to go back and rewrite/refine/hone my writing.

But everyone has their own method. Mystery novelist  Sandra Scoppettone, for instance, doesn’t outline at all, discovering her plot,  her characters, and her murderer, as she goes. Now that is unimagineable to me…

The Name is Carsone, Johnny Carsone

Update: 4/18/2005

I received a very polite and good-natured email from John Carsone asking me to please remove the correspondence from him that I posted here, since he sent it to me privately.  Just so there’s no confusion in the future, you should all know that any emails I get are fair game for my blog!

Our Trip – Day Seven

Day Six of our trip was largely a traveling day… so not much to report. We were hit with hail and snow on our way out of New Mexico, preventing us from visiting the Acuma Pueblo…but we did stop at a few trading posts to stretch our legs and browse.  We ended up in Flagstaff around 5 and were able to catch the sunset in Sedona, which was beautiful. Sedona is visually stunning and far exceeded my expectations.

This morning, we returned to Sedona to take in the sights, do some shopping, and have lunch with Richard S. Prather, author of the bestselling Shell Scott mysteries, which sold tens of millions of copies in the 60s. We met at his home and had a wonderful time talking about writing,  plotting and, of course, the outrageously entertaining adventures of Shell Scott.  The one-liners in those books are priceless…for example:

Leeprathersedona"We were dancing, my client and I. But it was much more than just a dance. It was like doing the fox trot and getting your pants pressed at the same time."

We’ve been penpals for a couple of years now, and have spoken on the phone a few times, but this was our first face-to-face meeting. For me, it was a real thrill. One of the great perks of my profession is the opportunity to meet so many of the writers I’ve enjoyed, and admired, since I was a kid. I still can’t believe how lucky I am (click on the picture for a larger image).

After lunch, Valerie, Maddie & I visited the mining town of Jerome, then wandered around Sedona some more before returning to Flagstaff. Tomorrow, it’s off to Las Vegas for a day then back to L.A.

It’s been a wonderful road trip…but come Monday, it back to work.

Our Trip – Day Five

Today we spent money… Valerie & Maddie on Indian jewelry in Old Town and I, of course, bought books, going crazy at Albuquerque’s wonderful Page One Bookstore. I left after three hours of browsing with a bunch of  signed first editions mysteries, used westerns (by Bill Crider, Ed Gorman, Robert Vaughn, Joseph West, and James Reasoner) and hard-to-find books by Andrew Coburn and Robert Sims Reid. I had a great time. It’s a good thing Page One isn’t in L.A. or I’d go broke…

Our Trip – Day Three

P1010690Last night in Flagstaff, I wandered into Bookman’s and found a bunch of used Bill Crider and Robert Vaughan westerns in fine condition. Nothing makes a trip like finding good books. This morning we left Flagstaff around 9 (after a complimentary breakfast of biscuits and gravy at the Hampton Inn) and headed east for Albuquerque. Along the way,  we took a peek at the famous La Posada Hotel in Winslow AZ (a desolate, decaying, modern-day ghost town), made the obligatory photo-opportunity stop at the Wigwam Motel in Holbrook (that’s my wife Valerie and my daughter Maddie in the photo, which you can click to enlarge) and toured the Petrified Forest National Park. We stopped for lunch at the El Rancho Hotel in Gallup, New Mexico and made it to  Albuquerque by 5:30 for a sunset stroll through Old Town, which was closed and deserted for Easter. Tomorrow,we’re planning on revisiting Old Town, taking the aerial tramway up to the snow and having dinner with my friends Aimee & David  Thurlo, authors of the Ella Clah novels.

Our Trip – Day Two

P1010663I’m on-the-road with my family, driving from L.A. to Santa Fe. Tonight, I’m writing to you from the lobby of Hampton Inn in Flagstaff, AZ.  Yesterday, we drove along a narrow, twisting, forgotten stretch of Route 66 through Oatman, an old mining town, where wild burros roam freely down the dusty main drag.  Here’s the weird thing:  a good chunk of the DIAGNOSIS MURDER novel I turned in last month takes place in Oatman and on that stretch of Route 66…which I described without ever having been there.  It turns out that what I "imagined" was pretty close to the reality. Who says you can’t just make things up? On the way out of Oatman, we visited a gold mine (my daughter loved it) and spent the evening in snowy Williams. This morning, we headed out to the Grand Canyon under cloudless, bright blue skies….then drove into Flagstaff on Hwy 189 through snow-covered woods. We had the road almost to ourselves and stopped along the way for a snowball fight.  Tomorrow, we set out for  Gallup,  NM with stops at the Petrified Forest and  the Meteor Crater. (Click on the photo for a larger image)

Road Trip

Things may be very slow here next week… on Friday, my wife and daughter and I are heading out on our first family roadtrip, driving from LA to Santa Fe and back… stopping at the Grand Canyon, Sedona, and who-knows-where. If I may post some dispatches from the road otherwise, if I survive, you’ll find me back here around April 4th.

Blog Spam

The kid who emailed me for career advice the other day sent the identical email to lots of other TV & film writers who’ve got blogs.  And we all responded. On our blogs.

Here’s another one.

We all gave him more or less the same advice. And, in doing so, taught him a couple of other valuable lessons:

1) All writers procrastinate.
2) One of the best ways to procrastinate is to run a blog.
3)
The best way to avoid writing when you have a blog is to answer
questions about being a writer when you are in the midst of avoiding
being one.