one is the loneliest number

I've been thinking about sequels lately. Most published authors give advice to looking-to-publish authors through websites and blogs, and an important point seems to be the need for sequels. Here's the gist of what I've learned: publishers get a thousand hundred billion manuscripts a day from hopeful authors, and they can only publish approximately one. So they have to narrow it down to make it easier for them, since they certainly don't have time to read a thousand hundred billion manuscripts. If it wasn't submitted by an agent, it's probably out. If there's no cover letter, it's probably out. If that cover letter isn't well written, it probably means the manuscript isn't either, and so it's probably out. And if in that cover letter, it doesn't mention that the author is hard at work on a second novel for their publishing pleasure, it's probably out.

The thing is, books are what make authors popular. I know, it was a surprisingly revelation for me, too. But the key letter there is the 's' hanging on at the end. Books, as in plural, as in many of them.

If an author writes one book and it's received well, that's great. For a bit. Until people forget about that book and that author. Then the book ends up on the back shelf of the bookstore, probably hidden behind a bunch of Twilight books. And no one buys it any more, and the author is very sad, and the publisher is even sadder because they're the one that just shelled out all the money to publish the book in the first place.

But if that author then releases a second novel, there is lots of fanfare and hoopla, and people will buy it. People who bought the first book and liked it will buy the second book, maybe even if they don't know what the second book is about. People who bought the second book and liked it will find out that there was a first book and buy that too, making sales for the original book go up again. Rinse and repeat to keep authors, and publishers, happy and not broke on a street corner with a cardboard sign that says "Will Write for Money".

So publishers are looking for authors who are going to publish more than one book. It doesn't necessarily have to be a sequel, but most of the time it has to be something in the same genre as the first book - they're looking to attract the same readers again and again, after all.

So I've been thinking about sequels. Originally when I heard about this, I got depressed. I'm only writing one book. It's stand alone. There's not a sequel for this thing. Guess I'm a failure.

And then, in usual Thistleswitch fashion (i.e., out of the blue and completely unexpected) I realized that I could write more. Not more stories about Niko, Merry and Aries - their story is being told here. But I can definitely write more stories about the world that they live in, where castles on glass mountains have elevators to reach them, heroes can never die, and people can Shift into tapdancing spongecakes on a whim. And once I realized that it's the world and the style that needs to continue, I realized that I had at least three ideas for stories.

Of course, writing sequels implies writing sequels. I've kind of been nervous about finishing just one novel, and even though it's going well, I still feel hesitant. Once I tell someone, "I'm writing another book," it becomes something that I can't change my mind about. If I get bored, or I hate it, or the whole thing makes me want to sob and throw my computer out a window, I still have to keep writing it, because that's what's expected of me. I don't know that I can do that - writing was never really a feasible job option in my head, because of that. If I have to force the story, it sucks, and there's nothing I can do about it.

So then I think, well, maybe I can finish Thistleswitch and get a second novel about half (or more) done before I try to publish. That way I'll probably be okay with the second one, I'll know I can finish it, and I'll at least have two books to offer. Though that means it will take a bit longer to publish, I think it'll be okay. Better than having publishers just toss the whole thing in the garbage can.

As of now, the hope is to get to the end of Thistleswitch by June 30. I figure that's about 30,000 more words, which is about 1,000 words a day, which is (theoretically) completely doable. After that, I'll pass out a couple copies of the full thing to people so they can read it and do a killer nitpicking of it. And I'll go back through and fix stuff and change stuff and what have you. I'm not sure if I'll start work on the second book during this stage or not - I think it depends if I think I can carry around two stories in my head at the same time without exploding. We'll see.

Meanwhile, I've already got my sequel brainstorms document in Word for all my ideas. And I've already gotten my uber-vivid-you-must-write-this-story scenes for one of these ideas. And I already know the main characters for one of these stories as well as I knew Merry and Niko when Thistleswitch first appeared. So, as of now, I think I can do this.

Sequels. Yikes.

balance

^ That's what I need right now. It's what any good book needs, actually. Balance between the action-packed bits and the not-so-action-packed bits.

The problem with books, and movies and television shows as well, is that they're meant to entertain. And what entertains people is the action-packed bits. That's why the characters of your favorite TV show can never just fall in love easily and spend the rest of their days living a Normal, happy life; no one wants to watch Normal. They'd rather watch a completely freak plane accident kill a couple characters, or see the relationship fall to pieces, or something else that is action-packed, edge-of-your-seat entertainment.

My problem is that I need balance. Every chapter of a book shouldn't be action-packed. Sometimes the characters just need to take a breather; catch their breath after running from the fire-breathing dragon before they're taken hostage by a clan of Oompa Loompas, or whatever the situation may be. Even though the action-packed bits are the parts that keep people reading, there needs to be some Normal mixed in or it's not a story; it's just a string of exciting events that leave the reader (well, this reader, anyway) wondering how so much crazy action-packed stuff could happen to just one person. Unless a character is carrying the one ring to rule them all, I just don't see why every bad thing that could possibly ever occur has to happen to them.

So that's where I'm at. Trying to write a bit of Normal before another action-packed "situation" occurs.

Don't get me wrong: Normal isn't equal to Boring. Normal just means that, hopefully, no ones' life is in danger for a few pages. No one is hanging over the edge of a cliff while dramatic music plays, or fighting off a monster they just happened to run into. Those things are all fine and dandy, but I'm going to let some other hero deal with them. For now, kids, we're going to talk about our feelings. And, even if there does happen to be an ever-changing maze of tree branches involved...well, that's as Normal as the Thistlethought is going to get.

book soundtrack

Am I the only one that thinks books can have soundtracks? When I'm reading a book, there's basically a movie playing in my head of the action I'm reading about. And all good movies have a good soundtrack to go along with them. Ergo, books have soundtracks.

And for Thistleswitch I think it's rather obvious that fiddley music is called for. It's easiest to write the story when I'm listening to the Vitamin String Quartet or other artists with the same sound. The songs are so jaunty and carefree and fiddley (second time I've used that word now, I know) that I can't help but think of the Thistlethought and the quirkiness of the story. The first time I ever heard one of their songs was while I was supposed to be writing a timed English essay, and it took all of my concentration to write about the novel I had read instead of the novel I wanted to write.

As of now, my "book soundtrack" is as follows. In no particular order, with no really particular scenes to go with them:

Into the Blue - Jonae
Back in Black – Vitamin String Quartet
The Way We Get By – Vitamin String Quartet
Perpetuum Mobile – Penguin Café Orchestra
Summer Storm - Jonae
Who Made Who – Vitamin String Quartet
Will’s Song – Jennifer Thomas
Time is Running Out – The Section Quartet
Phenomena – Vitamin String Quartet
Such Great Heights – The Section Quartet
Spectrum of the Sky – Break of Reality
Requiem for a Tower - Escala

Some of them are a bit different than the fiddley sound, but all of them make me think of Thistleswitch. And I'm sure I'll be adding more.

no plan, stan

Thistleswitch writes itself. That's a fact. I have no more of an idea of where the story is going than someone reading it does, even though I'm the one writing it. At least, that was the case at first - since I started writing, I have gotten flashes of inspiration about certain ending bits and pieces. But on the whole and large, I don't know what's going to happen next, even when I'm the one writing it.

The remarkable fiddle is a good example. It appears in only the second chapter, and when I wrote the second chapter I still had absolutely no idea of what story I was telling. Aries just insisted that a remarkable fiddle would be an important part of his quest. Until a month or so ago, I had no better notion of what the fiddle's use would be than Aries, Niko and Merry do. But then the reason came to me, and now it makes such perfect and total sense that I doubt anyone would think that I hadn't planned it out from the beginning.

Another typical example is much less important to the story. At the beginning of The Chapter in Which Aries Phoenixflight's Quests Fail, Yet Again, To End, the heroes hear a loud crash in the forest. When I wrote this, I had no idea of what the crash was. In fact, I couldn't even think of anything that it could be. I considered deleting that bit and thinking up something else to replace it, but I've learned from experience that deleting things the story insists upon don't work out well. So I left the story and went to take a shower.

A note on that: though it may seem strange, I do my best creative thinking in the shower and on the toilet. Makes me feel sorry for the characters in Thistleswitch who don't need to do those things. Yup, that's right:

"Though I cannot explain to you the lack of urination and defecation in the majority of literary masterpieces, I can, in the interest of clarity and full disclosure, explain the matter as it pertained to Aries and Niko. Though your earlier hypotheses are hardly foolhardy, the actual reason for the phenomenon is much simpler, and it is just this: along with such activities as shaving and tooth-brushing, heroes and their companions simply do not need to take a leak unless it is convenient.

And, as we can certainly agree upon the fact that dealing with micturition while sitting on a horse is perhaps the epitome of inconvenience, it stands to reason that Aries Phoenixflight and his companion had no such needs."

So I'm in the shower, trying to think of what I could replace the crash with if I really have to. I think, What sorts of things are in fairy tales? And then I think, What if Aries meets another hero? That could be good. And then, Well, how could another hero travel through the Thistlethought, though?

And just like that, some sort of divine novel inspiration strikes, and I know exactly what that crash was. The hero has enchanted armor to withstand the Shift. It's too large for him. He's fallen, causing a crash, and needs another hero's help to get back up. Just like that, I know exactly what that crash was for, and it all makes perfect sense.

Sometimes I'll delude myself into thinking a certain thing about the story. Just like Aries, I was quite certain that there was only one princess of Afalanphra. It wasn't until I was writing the scene with the High Receptionist that the story suddenly decided for itself that there was more than one princess. I learned it right along with Aries. If I try to argue with the story and put something in that it doesn't think works, I'm always the one that swerves first and deletes what I've tried to add. If the story doesn't put it in my head, I don't put it in the story; it's as simple as that.

google header collecting

Just a bit of fluff today.

I've noticed that, lately, for some strange reason that's probably a coincidence (or is it???) the Google header illustrations have been meshing pretty well with Thistleswitch. In fact, I've become a sort of collector of cool Google headings, which is a hobby that I doubt there's a group for on Facebook.

This one may not directly have anything to do with the story itself, but it's certainly fairy-tale related. It's the sort of thing that definitely could be in Thistleswitch.


This one was for Earth Day, but it's obviously actually a depiction of the Thistlethought Forest. Look at the bright colors and twisty trees!


And then the kicker...the one that literally made me stop and stare at my computer screen, with my mouth hanging open in surprise:

...
What?
Those are fiddles, people. Fiddles that look very distinctly remarkable, wouldn't you agree? It was for Vivaldi's birthday, I think, but really the artist was picking up on some Thisteswitch vibes (they're really quite insistent) and illustrated some remarkable fiddles.

Coincidence? I think not.

ballooning

First order of business: I finally reached one of the scenes that I've known about from the beginning last night. And it only took 40,000 words. (On a side note, FORTY THOUSAND WORDS?! I've written over 50,000 of one story before for NaNoWriMo, but I've never written 40,000 consecutive words. Consecutive is a big deal.) Anyway, since this story first started making itself known in the deep dark corners of my brain, I've known that Aries, Merry and Niko were going to ride skyders. Yup, skyders. Giants spiders that use ballooning to fly. Yes, ballooning. It's a real thing. Wiki it. Or, okay, I could just explain it. Real life spiders will do handstands and shoot strands of spider silk out of their butt into the air, which magically forms into a sort of parachute that the wind catches. The spider is carried into the air and taken to places like islands and mountaintops, waaaay faster than any spider could walk. I mean, spiders have been seen stuck to weather balloons that are thousands of feet in the air. Crazy.

But let's forget about real life and get back to the giant talking skyders. Just picture it. Giant spiders with giant balloons hovering above them, floating lazily over the treetops. I would love for someone like Keith Thompson to illustrate this scene for the novel. (Hahaha, pardon my delusions. They just make me happy.) In fact, I've even sketched this scene out, but I'm definitely no Keith Thompson. There's just something about this scene that is so easy for me to visualize, maybe because it's been so sharply present in my mind for so long.

I'm usually the sort of person who writes things entirely out of order. I'm usually a very vocal defender of that strategy, in fact. The problem is that when I think up an idea for a new story, the whole story doesn't present itself all at once. That would be too easy. Instead, I'll get a general sense of what the story is about, with a few scattered scenes illustrated in perfect clarity for me. Which is all fine and dandy, except that I don't know how to get to those scenes, or how to connect them to one another, or exactly where they fit in the grand scheme of the storyline. And I definitely don't want to go through the trouble of writing all of the boring filler bits between the action-packed and romance-oozing scenes that I think up. So I'll write those scenes, leaving blank spaces between them in the Word document as if I'm actually going to go back and write the rest of the boring stuff someday. (I'm not.)

That's okay, for most of the things I write. I came to the realization not too long ago that many of the story ideas I get are absolutely great, but only for myself. The fact is that they make better daydreams than novels; when I'm bored or waiting to fall asleep at night I can replay those certain scenes in my head as much as I like, without ever having to contemplate the bits in between. Some of my characters just aren't eager to be famous, I guess.

But Thistleswitch is an entirely different story. It's the first thing I've written in chronological order. I have an entirely separate document entitled brainstorm that I put all the ideas for future scenes in, so that I don't just skip to them and forget about the fluff in the middle. Hopefully, this means that I'll actually have to write all of that fluff, which means that I'll actually finish a full story. It's worked so far.

Anyway, the fact that I actually had to write everything that's happened so far to get to the skyder scene - along with the fact that I've been eager for this scene to occur for months and months - made last night, when I finally did get to write about giant skyders with giant balloons hovering above them, floating lazily over the treetops, a special event. They really exist now, in the Thistlethought and on paper. They're not just a daydream. It makes me want to do a happy dance.

Or go hot air ballooning.

a crash-course in thistleswitchery

So, Thistleswitch. The novel in progress in question.

...I'm just now realizing that I've never tried to describe the story in a 'blurb' format before. You know, if it was a published novel, there would be the little paragraph on the back that explains in a neat and tidy way exactly what you can expect inside. My usual response when I'm questioned about the story is, "I don't really know how to explain it," followed by either a) "Just read it," or b) hiding my laptop screen and possibly my face until the curious party finally leaves and I can get back to writing.

The reason that I can't describe the story is that it's not finished yet. I don't know where it's going, so I don't know what sort of story I'm dealing with, here. I guess the simple version is that it's about a hero and his companions on a quest to marry the beautiful princess of a far off kingdom. Throw in an F-45 pistol - a weapon capable of shooting moderately sized produce at a rate of eleven fruits per second - and a fiddle that sounds like something between the roar of a broken chainsaw and the squeal of a pestered piglet. Not to mention the thistleswitch itself, which can turn birds into doorstops midflight and transform an amiably twenty-seven-year-old birdwatcher into a hungry crocodile on a whim. Mix all that together with a good amount of irony and total disregard for the fourth wall, and you're starting to get an idea of what Thistleswitch has going for it.

Now, as I've said, I don't actually expect anyone to read this. And if anyone does happen to read it, it's probably a safe bet that I told them to do so because they've read the beginning of the novel itself. But, on the so-very-off-that-you-can't-even-see-it-in-the-distance chance that someone who hasn't read Thistleswitch for themself takes a gander at this blog, I suppose it would be best to lay some groundwork. And so, without further ado, may I present The Official and Comprehesive Quick Reference Guide to Thistleswitch for Anyone Who Cares About Such Things:


Aries Phoenixflight is "technically" the protagonist of the story. He's the one on the quest to marry the princess of Afalanphra, you see, and it's general knowledge that only heroes go on quests. Heroes can't be killed; at least, not until their quest has been completed. For have you ever read a story in which the protagonist died halfway through? Of course not.

Niko Treestorm is Aries' assistant, brought along to carry baggage and gather firewood. He's slightly bitter about this fact, as you may guess; his parents had five children, of which he was the fourth – meaning, of course, that he’d just barely missed out on the benefits of being a youngest child.

Merry Songchaser is not "technically" a heroine, but the story seems determined to follow her anyway. It is with Merry Songchaser – with her fourteenth birthday, to be precise – that the story begins, and it is Merry Songchaser that keeps dancing around in this particular narrator's head, demanding that her story be told.

Fencejumper and Riddle are Aries' and Niko's horses, respectively. Fencejumper will eat anything in sight. Other than that, he’s a friendly fellow, and easy to keep track of. It’s Riddle that you have to watch out for. She’s clever, and worse, she knows she’s clever. The horses are enchanted to withstand the Shift and allow their riders safe travel through the Thistlethought Forest. Speaking of which...

Thistlethought Forest and The Shift, aka The Thistleswitch are key to the story - as the title may have suggested to you. It is in the Thistlethought Forest that the majority of the story takes place, and though it is relatively normal as forests go, what makes it particularly peculiar is the Shift. To explain the Shift, I'll plop in a bit of the story itself (not that I haven't been doing that with all of these little blurbs).

"No one understood why it happened, but it did, and what happened was this: something would change. It might be a very inconsequential something, such as the color of your shirt, or the exact number of freckles on your left arm. Or it might be a rather more consequential something, such as whether you had three brothers or two sisters, or whether your traveling companion was an amiable twenty-seven-year-old birdwatcher or a hungry crocodile. The time of day, the day of the week, the week of the month, the month of the year, and the year of the century might all alter sporadically, so that, though you had entered the forest at nine in the morning on a Thursday in June, you might suddenly find yourself at seven in the evening on a Saturday in February, three years before you were born."

And that's a rather good example of the sort of writing to be expected in the novel, as well, so...double duty. Excellent. Moving on.

Tipsidy is a town located slightly to the left of what could be considered the rough center of the Thistlethought Forest. For some reason (that even I'm not aware of, as of yet) the town is immune to the Shift. Which is the only thing that makes it remarkable, other than the fact that our story, and Merry Songchaser, have their beginnings here.

Afalanphra is the kingdom just beyond the Thistlethought Forest, where Aries Phoenixflight and companions must travel to find the Palace of Peerless Pulchritude and, within it, the most beautiful princess in the world.

Princess Briaraliena is said most beautiful princess in the world.

Quicken is a reformed thief-turned-Chief Fiddle Player who eventually and unwillingly accompanies Aries on his quest.

Kaye is an Imaginary, though even I'm not sure exactly what that means. She lives in the Thistlethought, embraces the Shift, and is on a first name basis with a tangle tree. She's also a remarkably handy deus ex machina.

Grandma Anine is the witch who controls the thistleswitch. She helps and hinders our heroes in equal doses, and smells of goat cheese and mold.


And that's probably entirely too much information to take in all at once, so I'll bring the Guide to a close. If you've actually read it all, have a metaphorical cookie. If you haven't, there will be a quiz.

two percent possibility

I've never done this before. The whole "blog" thing, I mean. So we'll see how this goes, shall we?

This blog isn't about my feelings, or my personal life, or anything of that nature. If I tried to write a blog like that, I imagine it would go something like the diaries I tried to write as a kid:
"Dear Diary, today I went to school, did my homework, watched TV, and went to bed." It's not exactly Dear America worthy.

Instead, I got the urge to start a blog chronicling my (mis)adventures in novel writing and (hopefully?) publishing. I don't want to forget anything about this process, and I figure there may be the occasional useful tidbit about this sort of thing that other hopeful authors can use and identify with. Not that I'm expecting a fan base for this blog...but I've looked up my fair share of other writers' websites and blogs to get some tips...not that I'm comparing myself to Holly Black or Diana Wynne Jones or Tamora Pierce by any stretch of anyone's imagination...and I'm going to stop now, while I'm not quite as far behind as I could be.

Not only that, but I'm hoping that this might be another way for me to get the creative juices pipes in my brain unclogged when writer's block rears its ugly head. As if by speculating about characters or plots or the "subtle nuances of River Nymph Poker" to a bevy of uninvolved individuals, everything will suddenly make sense in the world. Right. But, who knows...it might at least make for some fun reading?

Oh, and as for the name? I read on one of the aforementioned author's pages that in one poll 80% of Americans said that thought they would write a book at some point in their life, but only 2% of Americans will ever actually finish a novel. So here's hoping that I'm in that 2%.