Within spitting distance of 44K.

Which is not that great of an accomplishment, considering I stood but a cable away from 42,000 words weeks ago, with all guns loaded, primed, and ready to fire a withering volley of langrage (language?). But between this quarter's final project and other impedimentia, I feel pretty good about having gotten that far.

I read about how other people write – what wannabe writer doesn't? Gordon R. Dickson recommended you sit down and just write. Write anything, even if it's crap, even if you're writing your name over and over again, and sooner or later you'll get tired of writing crap and either a) write something good or b) quit writing. Gene Wolfe, that son-of-a-bitch*, sits down in the morning and writes for two hours, knocking out a Hugo or three. And that's all he does. Steven Brust apparently maintains a normal lifestyle (involving blogging, email, and computer games) and somehow mystically written works appear. My guess is while he's asleep a demon possesses him, cooks up a big meal, eats it with gusto, and then writes like... well, like a demon. His advice boils down to "Write a cool sentence. Then write a cool sentence connected to that one." Lather, rinse, repeat.

The method that works for me, which works for me insofar as it works at all, is probably most similar to the Brustian model: I get a vignette in my head, a scene where Milesos dispatches his mortally wounded father-in-law after some snarky dialogue. I write it. Then I get another scene, where Milesos and company get ambushed by a pack of Dire-folk. I write it. In the meantime, there's this huge chrono-literary gulf between the two events, and that's where my scattershot method feels like it's breaking down. The capturing and the father-in-law-killing are critical points in the book, sure: but there are doubtless other critical points in between. I just haven't thought of them yet.

They also say you should read, and read widely (Who are 'they'? You know, 'them.' 'Those people.' 'Those people with their name on books on shelves in my library.' 'Writers.'). Most recently I have been hip-deep in Anathem, which is a Neal Stephenson book that snuck up on me in the dark and hit me over the head with a Burmese whack-bonk. I won't bore you with a review, but I will say this: it was written by a man in love with language. I probably only catch 15% of the verbo-linguistic cleverness that goes on in Anathem, but that's enough to keep me smirkingly thoroughly engrossed.

Neal also says "Just keep writing." So I shall go do just that.

After I read a few more pages of Anathem. It's research! No, really...

– Dr. Madu

*Said with the deepest respect and appreciation for Mr. Wolfe's craftsmanship.