Every story I've ever written rots in a graveyard, unfinished.

[Lets Rock]

My daughter writes and sketches. She started writing fan fiction then teen horror. Her skills confidence and imagination develop with every story. I encourage her to continue writing and enjoy her stories ( some I can't wait for her to finish and pinch her drafts)
Sometimes she gets stuck on a scene and it stalls the story. Encourage her to utilize the wp leave a gap, come back to it.. keep writing. When she's developing she sketches, some of her characters play on the net.
When she gets stuck I encourage her to read.
I think all of these ideas came from SKs nf books because they are the only ones I've read on the subject. They all work.
In a nutshell his advice was read and write. Read more than you write.

She has an original monster, an unusual environment in a normal environment and great characters. A sketchbook full of pics. The computer is busted!! She's writing in notebooks (and reading SK)

Good luck and keep writing.

 

[Wolf O'Donnell]

I'm walking almost the same path, everything you said makes a lot of sense. I started seriously writing because of fanfic actually. I would have finished something novel length then, but someone I loved very much got cancer. Afterwards I couldn't not associate the story with the tragedy in my own life and it rots unfinished like all the rest.

The part about leaving gaps is special advice, I've never done it. I was always afraid the pyramid would collapse under it's own weight but I admit I see the sense in it.

Reading is wonderful, my mind is a circuit and I will not stop reading a book if it's even just decent, it takes up all my free time. The problem with reading for me, to break blocks, is two-fold: I'm a chameleon, so the style of the book I just read creeps into my own writing, and I wind up reading instead of writing, even if I feel like doing the latter.

Just being forced to think about my problem, in light of what others are saying, I pretty sure I can identify what's wrong. Trust me that leap is huge. It comes down to three things:

*The biggest stories, while unfinished, were the ones I enjoyed writing.

*I leave stories I don't enjoy writing because I'm selling my soul to a devil in a dollar mask, believing they won't be sensational and make a profit. I feel like a prostitute, come to think of it. Come to think of it, didn't Mr. King say that was the biggest 'no'?

*As some other folks mentioned above, I'm weak willed when it comes to the temptations of a new story in favor of...what were the words..."shoveling **** from a sitting position", I believe. Thank you again Mr. King.

Armed with this knowledge I've decided to turn back the clock and face my biggest failure, a 22,000 word long horror that's been sitting in my hard-drive for a year and a half. I've determined I will finish this or it will finish me as a writer. It's the only way. If it reaches a conclusion I'll put it on self-promotion (provided I'm allowed to do say) and see if anyone will provide an opinion then. "Door Closed" until then, right?

Want to thank you all again for taking the time and listening to me whine about my strange form of writer's block. I appreciate all the advice and if I beat this I'll know who to thank!

(If this gets double posted my apologies, no blue shield the first time if so. I guess the policy is worth it though, ultra-distillation does provide purity I guess.)

 

[skimom2]

I have three folders (old style - actual, physical folders). Each bulges with the volume of paper inside. Little scraps peek out here and there. On some, the ink has faded almost to nothing, a brown-grey ghost of what once was deepest blue or black.
These are my notes. Ideas, scraps of dialogue, story outlines, script outlines, character pen-sketches, actual sketches of half-imagined places and spaces.
At last count, these three folders contained 364 separate and distinct ideas for stories, radio, TV or stage dramas, feature-length movies (and of course, each could be any of these things, or all of these things, or none).
Some of these ideas may well be dead - vibrant and alive months or years ago when I scribbled them down, but long since expired somewhere in the desert of time. Others are still very much alive, since they've never left me ('The Nagging Kids'). Either way, even if they're all salvageable and I clunk along at a rate of 10 projects per year - call it 2-3 novels, a few scripts, and 4-5 short stories; months worth of work, enough for anyone who still needs time for other things - I've got enough material to take me to my 75th year. And I'm still coming up with more. I will die with ideas unrealized and work unfinished. My notes, however, will live on.
You have to accept that. Ignore the unquiet voice that says 'Me! Me! I'm a much better idea than that thing you're working on!'
That voice may well have the truth of it, but the real truth is that nothing you write will ever be as perfect on paper (or screen) as it originally seemed in your head. We can only ever strive for perfection, as it is unattainable by its very nature.
But see how I described ideas as nagging kids before? If you were busy and your kid came up to you, nagging away over some trivial thing or other, you'd say 'Shush now. I'm busy. Later.' And that's exactly what you have to do to these new (unrelated) ideas. Shut them up, finish the task at hand, then give them your undivided attention.

I wish we had a standing ovation smiley. Mr. Nobody, you're spot on.

 

[skimom2]

I don't know how anyone else works but I'm not a plotter. I do not deconstruct my characters, I don't name them until they show up in the story. Half the time I have some half-assed idea of what going to happen, mainly a feeling or a hook and then I write to find out what happens. If I knew every detail, I would quit too, bored silly. What happens for me is a journey. I go down one path with one intention and people and events just show up and hold me by the hand and tell me where to go.

What works for one person won't necessarily work for another, unfortunately (don't you wish it was that easy? lol). Some people meticulously plot every scene and chapter, some wing the whole damn thing from word one, some find a middle ground. As to myself, I have the germ of an idea and roll it around in my head. If it sticks, I let it keep rolling until I have a complete first paragraph. I start writing when I have that, an ending in mind (that doesn't necessarily stick--both of my published novels ended differently than I anticipated--but it's somewhere to head toward at first), and a few key scenes in mind. Then I'm off to the races. On the best days, it feels like I'm taking dictation; the words just appear, characters talk freely, and I just get it down as fast as I can. On others, it takes a bit more directing. On the worst days, it's like trudging through mud--those are decent days to take off, if you have that leisure, or to jump into a second project (editing something finished? research for the next story?). Just make sure you to back to that original project and finish the damn thing.

 

[skimom2]

I'm walking almost the same path, everything you said makes a lot of sense. I started seriously writing because of fanfic actually. I would have finished something novel length then, but someone I loved very much got cancer. Afterwards I couldn't not associate the story with the tragedy in my own life and it rots unfinished like all the rest.

Sometimes personal trauma can add a depth to your writing that can be surprising. Personal example: my younger brother died while I was about 2/3 of the way through my first manuscript. I happened to be writing about terminal illness in a character at the time. It was pure coincidence, but it had two effects on me: first, work gave me something to focus on in a very bad time. Second, those scenes to the end of the book are the things about which I've received the most feedback. Lots of personal stories of loss (some just broke my heart), and people saying it woke them up to the fragility of life--the old, "I think I'd better call my estranged mother/father/sibling/etc" effect. Using that pain made a real difference in my writing. (My dad's death six months later, right as I was starting pre-pubish edits, was not such a good thing, however--lol) It might be worthwhile to go back to that original story and see where it takes you now that you've got some distance. Just a thought.

 

[Lets Rock]

Many of the posts here will help me support and encourage Jackal. So thank you.

 

[Wolf O'Donnell]

skimom2:
I'm sorry for your losses. You honored your brother with your strength and perseverance. Drawing a shadow positive from a tragedy is better than allowing oblivion to swallow your soul. Your father, I'm sure, would be proud of you for following your star and fulfilling your dream.

Unfortunately I can't go back and fight the demons for a little light in my personal darkness. For awhile after I lost my loved one I became convinced this reality is an outer province of Hell, a reality which allows us just enough painless present to make the horrors of the future all the more complex and exquisite. On bad days I still believe it, but I've seen wonders since which cast just enough doubt to let me cling to sanity.

The fanfic itself is cursed, every time I return to it I regret it. I've come a long way since then anyway, I don't even recognize the style...or the man who wrote it, because before then I didn't know what death meant.

Lets Rock:
Glad the thread helped! For both me and her. All in all I'd say this was a good beginning. The champagne is pouring down the hull and the seas are bright.

I have one regret. Why didn't I find this place sooner, eh?!

 

[Walter Oobleck]

I dunno what to say, Wolf...keep your chin up. I set out to change the world, taught myself the keyboard from an old typewriting manual, had this old manual typewriter, the ribbon with just barely enough ink red and black to mark my progress, and in the years that followed I burned out three electric typewriters. Do they even make an electric typewriter anymore? I've got piles of manuscripts boxed up, a few computer towers were finally delivered to the Solid Waste landfill, whatever Word documents they contained buried there now for whatever alien archeologist who might recover them. Took some pics of my bookcases the other day, posted them in the appropriate thread, and later I considered there's not much room there for what space I might take up. Hang onto all that stuff, would be my advice, who says you have to finish now, or ever? When you get something ready, tie it to a concrete block, and throw it through a window, SASE attached. I suspect this method might garner some attention what with everyone in the stadiums hunkered over with a manuscript on their knees waiting for their audition. Best of luck.

 

[prufrock21]

Welcome and haunt all you want. Don't ask Mr. King for The Answer because he don't have it. All he can do is write.

 

[Shasta]

Welcome to the board!

 

[not_nadine]

I wish we had a standing ovation smiley. Mr. Nobody, you're spot on.

I believe Dana Jean handles all the clapping here.

Much love to all of the posters here. SKMB family. Hang in there with us, we may be silly at times, but true writers amongst us..

 

[Wolf O'Donnell]

I dunno what to say, Wolf...keep your chin up. I set out to change the world, taught myself the keyboard from an old typewriting manual, had this old manual typewriter, the ribbon with just barely enough ink red and black to mark my progress, and in the years that followed I burned out three electric typewriters. Do they even make an electric typewriter anymore? I've got piles of manuscripts boxed up, a few computer towers were finally delivered to the Solid Waste landfill, whatever Word documents they contained buried there now for whatever alien archeologist who might recover them. Took some pics of my bookcases the other day, posted them in the appropriate thread, and later I considered there's not much room there for what space I might take up. Hang onto all that stuff, would be my advice, who says you have to finish now, or ever? When you get something ready, tie it to a concrete block, and throw it through a window, SASE attached. I suspect this method might garner some attention what with everyone in the stadiums hunkered over with a manuscript on their knees waiting for their audition. Best of luck.

A lot of what you say really resonates. Firstly, just because something isn't finished doesn't mean it isn't still a window into another world and that it has significance. I have a feeling those alien archeologists won't discriminate when they peruse the glowing and blasted wreckage.

Additionally I feel you're totally correct about the impenetrability of publishing circles in these latter days. I've never approached those grim walls myself, let alone tried to scale the hills of bones and broken dreams that molder in their shadow, yet I'm told even getting the garrison to acknowledge your presence requires an army of support.

May as well start heaving those cinder blocks.

As for electric typewriters, never even heard of them. Guess that answers that heh.

prufrock21:
He pretty much said in 'On Writing' that either you had the stardust or you didn't. I didn't expect him to descend from the dais and give me advice. My aspirations to become a resident spook are because of the community. As frustrating as the moderating restrictions are it's created an amazing gathering of serious minded individuals in which I feel at home.

not_nadine:
Promise I'll persist, I like it here!

Wolves of the Calla!

Shasta:
Thanks!

 

[FlakeNoir]

A lot of what you say really resonates. Firstly, just because something isn't finished doesn't mean it isn't still a window into another world and that it has significance. I have a feeling those alien archeologists won't discriminate when they peruse the glowing and blasted wreckage.

Additionally I feel you're totally correct about the impenetrability of publishing circles in these latter days. I've never approached those grim walls myself, let alone tried to scale the hills of bones and broken dreams that molder in their shadow, yet I'm told even getting the garrison to acknowledge your presence requires an army of support.

May as well start heaving those cinder blocks.

As for electric typewriters, never even heard of them. Guess that answers that heh.

prufrock21:
He pretty much said in 'On Writing' that either you had the stardust or you didn't. I didn't expect him to descend from the dais and give me advice. My aspirations to become a resident spook are because of the community. As frustrating as the moderating restrictions are it's created an amazing gathering of serious minded individuals in which I feel at home.

not_nadine:
Promise I'll persist, I like it here!

Wolves of the Calla!

Shasta:
Thanks!

Not sure if we've already let you know, but once you've reached 150 posts, you will become unmoderated.

 

[GNTLGNT]

Not sure if we've already let you know, but once you've reached 150 posts, you will become unmoderated.

...and immodest....

 

[FlakeNoir]

...and immodest....

 

[Wolf O'Donnell]

Not sure if we've already let you know, but once you've reached 150 posts, you will become unmoderated.

139 as of this to go then.

I've expressed my opinion on the subject before...I support the policy. I'd rather have the trolls driven from the weed-choked, slime-ridden undersides of internet bridges than have the instant gratification of unfiltered postings for a couple of months. Towers built on crumbling cornerstones have a tendency to topple.

From what I've seen thus far, the 150 rule works.

This isn't a kowtow to the moderators, it's acknowledgement of the sad and simple fact that the web grants as many blessings as it does curses (perhaps more of the latter than the former though I'm trying to be an optimist here).

As for modesty, well...I'm usually sauced when I post, though thankfully I'm not the kind of drunk that 'loses it'. My thoughts are altered only subtly, I assure you. For example I'm on my eighth right now.

No really, I'm just fine...

 

[VultureLvr45]

Welcome Wolf. I can relate to unfinished stories in a big way. Putting all of the bits and pieces in properly can be overwhelming. Glad you are here.

 

[Mr Nobody]

I think I read somewhere that Mr. King jots them down and keeps on writing the story at hand and if the story keeps resurrecting itself in his mind....and won't let him rest he will write it.

I remember reading the same thing. I can't for the life of me remember where...I'm 99% sure it wasn't in On Writing...
Ah, anyway - the other thing I've found is that, sometimes, a note doesn't fit the story I thought it did, but slides nicely enough into another. More rarely, two 'dead' ideas have suddenly sparked something between them and formed something that really could work.

To chip in on another couple of posts:
I'm not a plotter, either. As a rule, I have faith in the idea that my subconscious has got it all sorted out and I've just got to let one part of my mind talk to the other and out it'll come. But...I generally need a little more than just an image or word to get me started. Sometimes a character will be yammering away in my head, and that's both a good and a bad thing - good because at least they're talking; bad because, like most folks, what they're saying skirts around what's relevant, like "Man, you wouldn't believe how my feet are killin' me. And hot! Jesus! I could fry eggs out on the path! Didn't help there was that accident out by the [whatever]. Traffic backed up, people rubberneckin', like they do. Cops were out, wouldn't let us go near. And of course I was parked all the way on the other side, so I had to walk all the way out to [wherever]. In this heat! And in these shoes! I just hope my fish fingers haven't thawed out... Say, is the kettle broke?" and all the while you, the writer, are there going 'Whoa! Hold on! Back TF up! There was an accident?'
Generally, though, I have to get the image, word or general idea and turn it this way and that, looking for the angle, the POV to use, and so on. Bit of a "Talk to me, Goose" moment. Then I'm in. Usually.

@ skimom2: No standing ovation required. Those words of yours are more than enough (and more than my comment really deserved).

 

[blunthead]

...and immodest....

...and incompetent, irrelevant, and immaterial!...

Sorry...Perry Mason fan...

 

[Wolf O'Donnell]

I remember reading the same thing. I can't for the life of me remember where...I'm 99% sure it wasn't in On Writing...
Ah, anyway - the other thing I've found is that, sometimes, a note doesn't fit the story I thought it did, but slides nicely enough into another. More rarely, two 'dead' ideas have suddenly sparked something between them and formed something that really could work.

To chip in on another couple of posts:
I'm not a plotter, either. As a rule, I have faith in the idea that my subconscious has got it all sorted out and I've just got to let one part of my mind talk to the other and out it'll come. But...I generally need a little more than just an image or word to get me started. Sometimes a character will be yammering away in my head, and that's both a good and a bad thing - good because at least they're talking; bad because, like most folks, what they're saying skirts around what's relevant, like "Man, you wouldn't believe how my feet are killin' me. And hot! Jesus! I could fry eggs out on the path! Didn't help there was that accident out by the [whatever]. Traffic backed up, people rubberneckin', like they do. Cops were out, wouldn't let us go near. And of course I was parked all the way on the other side, so I had to walk all the way out to [wherever]. In this heat! And in these shoes! I just hope my fish fingers haven't thawed out... Say, is the kettle broke?" and all the while you, the writer, are there going 'Whoa! Hold on! Back TF up! There was an accident?'
Generally, though, I have to get the image, word or general idea and turn it this way and that, looking for the angle, the POV to use, and so on. Bit of a "Talk to me, Goose" moment. Then I'm in. Usually.

@ skimom2: No standing ovation required. Those words of yours are more than enough (and more than my comment really deserved).

It seems to me you've touched upon something every writer has to overcome. It seems to me that a story has to have a balance between the subjective voice that gives it life and the objective perspective of the world that gives that life a place to live. It also seems to me like you understand this and because of that understanding you've had success in drawing from the infinite possibilities imagination provides tales that have conclusions.

I've failed again, by the way. R.I.P 2,408 words.

The story was based on a strange dream I had when I was younger. Every night monsters would emerge from a dark dimension parallel to our own, their forms countless, varied and terrifying. Daylight returns the world to normal, though as soon as a part of the planet turns its face from the sun...

Psychologically obvious though from an adult perspective it had potential, I thought.

I came up with the idea that this was all the result of an accident involving a particle accelerator. My main character in this first-person catastrophe is a rich man in a fortress-like mansion who tries to keep his family safe. It co-stars an insane sister who's a veteran of Iraq and a husky who was left on the side of the road in a bag of trash as a puppy; the rich man finds and saves him before 'the Shift'.

I'll never know what happens to them now in all probability. That's worse than failure. I've created and destroyed an entire reality in the space of two evenings and that atrocity scars my soul.

I think that maybe just because I'm good with words sometimes doesn't mean I was meant to write books. My works aren't creation, they're annihilation. The pain I feel is indescribable. I just don't know what to do.

Think I'll just...take a few days and see if I can resurrect it. Though having been through this before I'd bet against myself and probably win. I know some of you think 'well if he just stuck with it, had the will...'

That's the problem. It's a Chinese Finger-Trap. The harder I struggle to free myself from the void the tighter and more crushing the prison becomes. I think I'm screwed my friends.