Do you know where this is going? Excuse me... but I find this is offensive to stereotype fiction as reeking something fierce. This embarrassment scorches my lonely soul. I'm not really alone. My heart is full. My soul isn't empty. But writers from writers' meetings can't help purge the demons trapped inside. Can't you smell that smell? Nobody wants to be around what smells like vulgar characters from different socioeconomic levels. But Canada is great and everybody loves this polite, serious country: a salad bowl of eclectic ethnicities. I used to have a friend from elementary school that was second-generation Klingon. But I don't write science fiction novels. I went to Word On The Street in
Stop... walk into the room. It's a workshop on sensory writing and you're waiting for the touch, taste or scent. But a primary sense of sight takes hold first for the observer, describing the drab room, quality of light and person in a way that's never been described before. "Oh God, he's aged badly. Look at the wrinkles! I can't stop observing the freakish contours on his face," she says. But my reddish nose (dimmed red under light to reveal I'm a recovering alcoholic) smells boiled hot dogs on the girl. Maybe I'm old, but she smells like a hot dog. The smell triggers a memory to many hot dogs I've dated before meeting my wife. Sound is another vital sense. Sound can be about dread or suspe
Believe me... it'll smell bad, but sometimes you'll release your feelings onto the page right after letting it rip. Don't flail your hands attempting to get rid of the odor, because it won't go away until it's ready. The writing on the page won't fix itself, until you're ready. Write, rewrite and edit. Sometimes you'll get to a new idea and blank page. You control the art. If you're working with fiction on characters communicating with technology, then you better understand the damn devices. So you have to understand literary devices and appreciate the devices you're adapting onto the new page. What does the old man do in his room after smelling his own fart? He pulls the laptop from the bed
It might sound almost sexual... but when the beauty comes from rewriting, just keep on writing and don't stop. I imagine the tranquility of Elbow Lake in Sudbury, then focus on the writing process. And when I can prioritize my time and sit down and go through my story, it happens so fast. "Make no mistake: The art of writing is in rewriting." ― Writer's Digest. I redraft as a I go along. Sometimes it slows down. But whenever I get stuck in my novel, I go back to the beginning and revise my way down to where I left off. I usually repeat this and I usually rework a couple of pages and I'll massage them over a hundred times before I get to the end. Often it's more that I'm reworking phrases and
