Humble (and Slightly Horrible) Beginnings

Before I start this post, there's something I wanted to quickly mention: when I launched my blog, I did four amazing interviews with four even more amazing bloggers. If you haven't checked them out, you should! On Tracey's blog, she interviewed me on many forms of art, like writing and music. With Lostfairy, we discussed various things about video games. Christine asked me questions all about writing and my stories. Lastly, Chloe and I talked about books and such. So, like I said, you have to read these interviews if you have not done so yet.

Now that that's out of the way, let's get on to the actual post!

***

Every writer has a humble beginning. It may be a story that you're extremely proud of, because it won in a local contest and proved you were talented. Or perhaps you cringe even at the thought of your first story; it's currently hidden away in your room, cursed to never the see the light of day again. Whatever the case, you had to start somewhere.

I did too. The first project that really convinced me I could write was an attempt at a fantasy novel. The plot? Three guys travel through a portal to another world that must be saved from an overwhelming evil. That's the boiled-down version. It may not be super creative or unique, but it's still a valid plot.

Thing is, I wrote this back when I was . . . I'm going to say, 12 or 13. So it's pretty awful at times. What I want to do is give excerpts from this story and poke fun at it. I'm going to harsh and sarcastic with myself, because I can be. Some people might think this is a weird thing to do, or maybe even that I shouldn't judge my older writing. I'm going to get a kick out of this, though, and I hope you guys will find it funny as well.

source

The sun blazed overhead, scorching the landscape. A wind shifted the grains of sand. If someone thought this was an ordinary day in the desert, they would've assumed wrong. For this day would soon turn into a very unusual day.

Really? This is the opening paragraph? Talk about a lame hook. I probably wouldn't even continue the book after reading this.

Sometimes [the soldiers] would stop and carefully dig [a land mine] out of the ground. One would carry it to a waiting truck, where soldiers would carefully place it in a box among boxes.

Okay, there's a number of things wrong with this portion. First off is the fact that you don't just dig a live land mine out of the ground! How inexperienced are these guys?! (I obviously knew nothing about the disposing of land mines and didn't bother researching it.) Secondly, why did I have to specify that soldiers were the ones putting the mines into boxes? I thought we already knew soldiers were the guys doing the work. And "a box among boxes"? Seriously?

"How many more mines until the load is full?"

A tall man looked at the vehicle. "I'm guessing thirty-seven more. Let's keep at it, boys."

If they've been doing this for a while now, shouldn't they know how many mines fit into the truck? And no POV has been established yet. Tsk-tsk.

Colonel Smits had black hair, which was starting to turn gray, and stood at the height of six foot five. He was very kind to everyone and was experienced in the removal of land mines.

Okay, now that we finally have a POV, let's address the fact that he's reminding himself of his hair color (which could've been called salt-and-pepper) and his height. No one, on a regular basis, thinks to himself, You know, I'm so glad I'm six feet and five inches tall. Readers don't care what the specific height is, unless it's one of those thrillers where the author wants to establish the fact that the protagonist is a big tough guy. We already found out that he was tall in the last paragraph. And if he's so experienced in removing land mines, why the heck is he allowing his men to dig them out and have them transported live?

As he watched the soldiers, he recalled why they were here. Egypt was covered with land mines, approximately twenty-three million, and requested help in the United Nations. The U.S. had agreed to assist Egypt and sent a trained squad of deminers.

Oh, how convenient of you to randomly remember your mission so that readers know why you're doing what you're doing. (#RandomFactDumping) From the sounds of it, the U.S. evidently sent one of their poorer squads. But I will mention that "deminer" is an actual word. Look it up yourself and you'll see.

"Something's wrong with my metal detector. It's going bonkers!"

Because "bonkers" is part of a soldier's everyday vocabulary. And we're only done the first page now... yeesh.

"I have no idea," Smits said, clearly perplexed. He said into his radio, "Houston, I want  you here right now. We have a problem."

"We'll be right there," a voice answered. Soon, an army tank climbed over a sand dune and slowly drove down. When the tank stopped, the hatch on the turret opened, and the gunner hopped out. He saluted Smits. "John Houston, at your service. What is your problem?"

Yes, Smits is clearly perplexed, indeed. Since, you know, he's so experienced that he relies on the tank gunner to tell him what the problem is with the metal detectors. Not to mention he made an uproariously funny joke. He better quit now, or we'll never be able to finish the story since we're laughing so hard.

The two soldiers in the truck climbed out, apparently finished their work. One said, "I think it's something supernatural. Like a message from heaven, warning us of something."

"Get real, Xander," a soldier scoffed. "Are you off your rocker? Or are you some sort of religious fanatic?"

A message . . . from heaven? Sure, Josiah, just make the Christian soldier a nutty one, why don'tcha? And then there's the obligatory anti-Christian guy, who says stuff like "off your rocker," even when no one else does.

Then [Nathan] vanished.

"Where did he go?" a soldier asked frantically.

"Don't panic!" John said.

I dunno where he went. It's kind of a ridiculous question to ask, since he just kinda poofed right before your eyes. And we have another prime example that these soldiers aren't fully trained, since we got one guy freaking out.

If there was one thing Smits hated, it was making a decision on the spot. But it was something he had to sometimes do.

Dude! You're a man in the army! You're going to have to constantly make on-the-spot choices. Ugh, what is wrong with my characters?

 Smits said into his radio, "Tank, follow us very slowly. The last thing we want to do is deactivating a land mine."

You're bringing a honking big tank to the mysterious spot where someone just disappeared right before your eyes? Boy, this colonel is full of bright ideas, and he can't use proper grammar either.

"This is stupid," Alex said. "There's nothing there." With that, he ran to the spot where Nathan had gone. When he reached the spot, he disappeared.

Remember when I said this guy was the obligatory anti-Christian? He's also obligatorily idiotic.

One soldier looked at the others. "Pack up, boys. We're heading back to the base."

Well, finally we've got a level-headed soldier, although maybe he's too level-headed considering the situation. He just witnessed five guys and a tank vanish into thin air, and he's like, "Cool beans." (And now we're back to just floating around these characters.)

"They're getting reinforcements," [one of the strange figures watching the soldiers secretly] said. "We have to alert the boss."

"He kinda creeps me out," the other said.

The first punched him in the shoulder. "Don't be a wimp. He's just . . . different." He got up. "Hurry! We've got no time to waste!"

"Yeah," the second snarled. "Nobody finds the portal and stays alive. Nobody!"

Let's examine the dialogue from these two villains, shall we? We are first treated to info we already know, but is repeated just so we don't forget. Then one of said baddies confesses his fear of his boss, to give us the heads-up that we should be afraid for the main characters (who, believe it or not, haven't been introduced yet, even though we know the names of five characters). Finally, we get some campy dialogue to finish up this rousing, four-page chapter. Yay.

Nathan held up a hand. "There's no sense in wasting your breath by getting all huffed up over such a little predicament."

A "little predicament"? Since when was being transported into another world such a minor issue?

"A LITTLE PREDICAMENT!!" Alex yelled in a loud voice. "Look around you, idiot! This isn't a picnic!"

I'm pretty sure most people use loud voices when they yell, but thanks for letting us know.

"No, it's not a picnic. But it's an adventure," Nathan exclaimed.

*facepalm* Seriously, dude?!

Alex started to swear when Smits said, "Enough, Alex!"

The two soldiers swivled around and saluted the colonel. He marched over to them. "Alex, I never want to hear you say that again! Is that clear?"

Alex nodded. When Smits turned, Alex stuck his tongue out. Nathan rolled his eyes and thought, "He can be so immature."

Yes, I intentionally misspelled "swivelled," because that's what it was like in the story. And I'm uncertain as to whether you'd be reprimanded for using foul language in the army. What I'm not uncertain about is that you would certainly get the boot for sticking your tongue out at your commanding officer. (Plus, we're back to the floating POV.)

There was a moment of silence. Nathan spoke up. "I think . . . we're in another world."

Xander whistled. "Neat."

This reaction is just so illogical. It's like, "Oh, I'm in an alternate world away from all my loved ones and everything I knew, and I've got no hot clue if I'll ever go back. Neat."

"It's the tank!" Smits cried. Indeed, it had started to come out of the portal.

"Evasive action! Drive backwards!" Smits pleaded into his radio.

Who the heck says "Evasive action! Drive backwards!" He could've chosen some much better dialogue.

Smits turned to the others. "John, you're the stockiest of all of us. I want you to get in the tank and see if any of the soldiers are alive. Oh, yes, and also retrieve the laptop that contains all the information about our mission."

Calling someone stocky isn't exactly a compliment, Smits.

John ran to the boy, yelling, "Back away, you repulsive deformities!" The startled creatures came to a stop, confused.

John's hand whipped to his gun and let out a round of shots. Some of them ripped through one's heart. Several more dug into various places in the other's head. They flopped to the ground, lifeless.

I just don't what to say about the whole "repulsive deformities" thing. It's . . . it's odd. That's all there is to it. And John, you're wasting bullets, man! One shot to the heart and one to the head would be just enough, thank you. (In case you're wondering, this only the beginning of this book's violence. I was obviously a weird kid back then.)

Smits replied, "You can take us to your city."

"That's hardly a favor. I would've done that whether you had asked me to or not," Justin said.

Oh, real smart, kid. You just met these oddly-dressed people from another world, who shoot baddies up with guns that you've never seen before, and you're just going to march them back into town, eh? No suspicions? No thoughts on where they came from and if they're good or bad? All righty.

Smits thought for a moment. "See that tank over there?"

"Yeah."

"In there is a laptop with secret info on it. I was going to send John in to get it. But you're slimmer than he is. Could you find it?" 

And now Justin recognizes a tank when he sees one. Sure, it's a little obvious as to what Smits is referring to, but even so! Hold up, Smits. You don't got any doubts either? You don't want to hide the fact that your laptop (which apparently Justin'll recognize also without ever having seen one in his lifetime) has confidential info on it? What if the creatures your gunner just killed were the good guys? No? Well, ain't that swell! You're all buddies already.

"Get off of the [burning] tank!" Nathan yelled.

"Don't worry! I'm immune to fire!"

Thanks for that handy tidbit! This is so random . . . and has a bit of a deus ex machina vibe to it.

Okay, I had better stop, or we'll be here all day. I only went through two chapters, and there's stuff I had to leave out to ensure that this post wouldn't get too long. And we're only done 9 pages of 157!

One final thing I'd like to say: yes, I poked and prodded my story, but I still love it. It made me actually enjoy writing and want to do it more. This is the first step of my journey, and while it may look like a flimsy step with hindsight, it was still my first step. And that's what matters more than anything else. Be proud of your first step. If you can see you've improved, be glad for it. If you can't, don't get discouraged. Your writer's road is far from over. After all, life is all about making the most of the journey.

So what did you guys think? If you found this post amusing in any way, let me know! I'm more than happy to roast my old writing again in the future.

A Misdiagnosis

We writers all face a problem at some point or another. This problem has plagued many an author over the ages. It is a ferocious beast, one that freezes us with a cold uncertainty. None are above it; all are susceptible.

source

The problem? Writer's block.

Or is it?

I've been mentally debating this for a little while now, and I have to wonder if writer's block is the only monster out there in the world of crafting stories. I think it has an older brother that's the root of the plague. It disguises itself as something else and calls itself writer's block.

In other words, I believe we've been misdiagnosing the problem here.

Now, that's not to say writer's block isn't a valid issue. It is! There are times when you hit an obstacle that blocks off your flow of creativity. But there's also more to this than meets the eye.

Let's use our imagination for a bit. (I'm assuming you guys can, since you're writers too, or even just humans in general.) Let's pretend you have a friend who's sick. They've gone to see a doctor about it, and they've been prescribed to some medicine. There are certain steps they have to take in order to get their health about.

One day, while you two are talking, your friend mentions it to you. You've had the same sickness in the past, so you ask them about the symptoms. They tell you about them, and you realize that something's wrong here: the symptoms aren't the same ones you had. You were told back then that there's a similar sickness. Your friend has been misdiagnosed.

Can you imagine what kind of consequences could ensue? If you treat a medical issue wrongly, you can become worse because of it. In the same fashion, when writers encounter this mysterious creature in their journey and label it as "writer's block," they will treat it as such. And this could do more harm than good.

So, then, what are we actually up against here?

Writer's doubt.

source

You see, you cannot deal with doubt in the same fashion as a lack of creative ideas. If you're suffering from writer's block, you can problem-solve your way out of the situation, and you can often enlist the help of others. When facing doubt, it's up to you--and only you--to break past and keep going.

What makes doubt such a crippling foe? When you doubt yourself and your writing, you question if you're any good at what you do. You think no one would ever want to read what you have to say. If the doubt is strong enough, you may even consider calling it quits. This issue springs forth from your self-worth, or lack thereof. You are the only person who determines if you'll move forward and keep running the race set out before you . . . or if you'll get tired of running and walk away from it all.

I think we encounter this problem at least once, if not multiple times, in our life. Even if you're not a writer, you can still wrestle with this debilitating doubt. Sometimes, when I've had long spans of not writing, I wonder if part of the reason for that was because I felt I didn't measure up.

Now the question is, if writer's doubt is such a big problem that needs to be discussed, how do we deal with it? That will be the subject of a future blog post. For now, I needed to present the issue and see what you think. We're all in this together. None of us are above experiencing doubt in our stories. We must all take a stand and fight back, because we know we are doing what God has called us to do. That knowledge alone is the start of beating back the monster.

What do you think? Is doubt the beast lurking under the name of "writer's block"? Have we been misdiagnosing the problem? If not, do share why! I'm curious to hear all of your thoughts.

The Start of Something New

What's this? I'm posting on a Monday, you say? He must be completely discombobulated! you're probably thinking to yourself. Well, allow me to explain myself.

source

For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to do something unique on this blog. I've desired to have a biweekly special post where I share with all of you something I'm very passionate about. Today marks the first day of said post. It's the start of something new, something I'm excited about. And I shan't keep you in suspense anymore!

Introducing . . .

Yep! In this special post, I will be sharing a piece of music that I love with you. Most of the music will probably be instrumental, but there will also be some lyrical stuff in the mix. I'm thinking there'll also be some kind of vote to determine the best song of each year--but that's a long time in coming.

You guys honestly don't know how eager I've been to commence this series of posts. It's actually one of the things I was looking forward to most on my blog. So without further adieu, here is the first track of many:

"Imagine the Fire" from The Dark Knight Rises

Composed by Hans Zimmer

Allow me to tell the story of how I started listening to soundtrack music. Tracey had bought the Narnia soundtracks before I ever got into that type of music, and I didn't really care a whole lot for it at the time. But one time after watching The Dark Knight Rises (my favorite movie in the trilogy), I noticed it mentioned the soundtrack on the back of the movie case. I figured that the score must be just as awesome as the movie. I wasn't wrong.

Once I bought the album, I listened to it many, many times. One of my favorite tracks is the song I'm sharing with you. Yes, it's long, but it's so epic. I just love everything about the track, and I especially love it when the chanting (which is part of Bane's theme) comes in. This music is the perfect final battle music as the Dark Knight trilogy reaches its conclusion.

If you've never tried soundtrack music, I highly recommend listening to this track. It's one of the pieces of music that got me permanently hooked on movie scores. And if you need inspiration for the big fight you're writing--or you just want to feel like you can take on the world--this song is perfect for you too.

So what do you think of Music Monday posts? Did you enjoy the track? Have you listened to this particular soundtrack before? I eagerly await all your thoughts in the comments!