Who’s Counting?

r-avatarOf the myriad ways to measure your productivity as a writer, one of the most straightforward and objective is your word count. It’s also a significant metric for classification and marketing of your work, because different genres and formats each have their own traditional sweet spots. And it just feels great to tell people that your novel is more than 100,000 words, because they react as it that means it’s good. Perhaps the reaction is more properly construed as, “You must take all this very seriously,” or, “Wow, you really don’t have much of a life.” But it feels good all the same.

The danger of obsessing about word count, of course, is if the writing’s no good you’re just generating more of something no one will want. Your focus should always be on quality, not quantity. In fact, using fewer words is often a hallmark of stronger writing. Brevity is the soul of wit, or so it’s said. (Clichés count double!)

We recently celebrated the completion of the first draft of our new novel, which we accomplished faster than any of the previous ones. Practice makes perfect (remember to double that one, too) but a big part of the reason might have been Kent’s drive to “win” the word count. His claims of victory look reasonable on the surface, but he’s neglecting to include the words in the stubs, all of which go in Jen’s total.

People working together toward a common goal aren’t supposed to be competing with one another, yet they often are. If it produces conflict in the partnership, or if you’re taking the batteries out of each other’s keyboards, then it becomes counterproductive. But up to a point, some good-natured rivalry can be highly motivating. That’s how Kent sees things anyway. He knows if he can keep up with Jen he has something to feel proud of. Working by yourself, you have no one to set the pace.

How do you measure your progress? What makes you feel energized about writing?

Traveling with Diplomats

  • k-avatarnot always the cleverest
  • pretend to hold the wheel
  • staying at the Austrian embassy
  • I wished to shake her sang-froid
  • the long-legged Englishman
  • the length of his mustache
  • A good scent?

Traveling with diplomats is not always the cleverest way to see the world. The accommodations are usually posh, but infested with spies.

Once, while staying at the Austrian embassy in Australia (or was it the other way around?), I found myself ensnared in unseemly entertainments which led to a course of antibiotics. I’d tailed a sultry espionage agent to the private club in the basement, and although I wished to shake her sang-froid she only wanted to shake her money-maker. Then she’d pretend to hold the wheel of a ship and cry out, “Thar she blows!” each time the long-legged Englishman recrossed his ankles. I think she was impressed by the length of his mustache, and its scent. But was it a good scent?

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

This Full Moon

  • by jenthis full moon
  • the pasta
  • north van
  • terms of debt
  • mountain of old

This full moon, the pasta, the wine! It’s so romantic!” cried Felicia.

Phil led her next down North Van Houton Street to a bakery. In the alley out back they found a mountain of old donuts, and dug in.

“I know it’s not a second honeymoon in Paris,” said Phil, “but in terms of debt management, it’s a winner.”

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

The Chaos Machine

r-avatarWhat kind of story world are you creating? Never mind genre conventions, this question is deeper than that.

If there’s any one thing universal to all writers, it might be the fear of being caught making stuff up. It’s all we do, ever. Even when our work draws upon our real-life experiences, we’re curating and manipulating those events in the service of our plots.

All fiction is a tissue of contrivances; it’s pure artifice. The art lies in preventing our readers from noticing. So, we try to imitate life’s messy blend of the mundane and the outrageous. We construct our machines and wind them up, and then take notes. We don’t want too much of a predictable, clockwork machine, because that equates to a boring story. It needs some chaos, just not too much. Curated chaos, just the stuff that works to create verisimilitude.

A pinball machine is an interesting metaphor for striking that balance in the writerly creative process. It’s mechanical, yet unpredictable. Different writers favor different models, and different partnerships lend themselves to different approaches to the chaos problem.

Rune Skelley’s story worlds tend toward a lot of regulation. Maybe they’re more Rube Goldberg than pinball, where complexity and indirection give the illusion of chaos. Jen and Kent work together on constructing the outline and finessing all the beats along the way, and they know where it’s going to end up.

Jen’s collaboration with Reggie veered much deeper into chaos mode, perhaps too far for a machine-based metaphor to describe it. They made a game out of trying to trip each other up, but they found a shared voice and vision all the same.

Is your story world a pinball machine? Or is it some other kind of device?

rhymes with orange

The Meeting Was Getting Out of Hand

  • k-avatara variety of lovely agonies
  • being the whore
  • the man with the severed leg
  • an unnatural child born of an unnatural act
  • the cacophony of activity
  • kill him and eat him

The meeting was getting out of hand. The man with the severed leg stood up and waved the bloody thing over his head, screaming. Clay thought the note-taker was likely to kill him and eat him.

Finally the CEO called for order, which somewhat diminished the cacophony of activity. His thunderous voice carried over the tumult. “This is an unnatural child born of an unnatural act, surely in fact from a variety of lovely agonies. In short, a monster.”

Wild cheers met this proclamation. Being the whore he was, the CEO let it wash over him for a full minute. Finally…

“It is my pleasure to announce your promotion, Clay. Don’t ever change.”

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

After My Ankle Surgery

  • by jennever pick up a stray kitten
  • don’t strain yourself
  • We should get married more often
  • a cuddlesome wench on each side
  • He pointed at my foot
  • I wiggled like a puppy

After my ankle surgery, my mother just wouldn’t shut up with the “helpful” advice. “Don’t strain yourself,” she insisted. “You don’t want to open the stitches back up.”

“Sure, Ma,” I repeated into the phone, but she wasn’t happy until I promised to never pick up a stray kitten again. I couldn’t really blame her for worrying. The last kitten had hidden beneath the sofa and swiped her talons right through my achilles tendon, thus necessitating the surgery.

My new husband came into the room, followed by the doctor with a cuddlesome wench on each side. Nurses, I assumed.

The doctor sat on the edge of my bed. He pointed at my foot. “Feeling better now?” he asked, and then tickled the sole. I wiggled like a puppy shaking itself dry.

“Good,” said the doctor, and he left, taking the cuddlesome wenches with him.

“I’m sorry we have to spend our honeymoon in the hospital,” I said to my husband.

We should get married more often,” he laughed.

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

Clink the Champagne Glasses

r-avatarPerhaps the best part of collaborative writing is having someone to toast with when the work is done. Around 10:00 last night, Kent wrote the final words of our first draft! Woohoo! We popped the cork on a bottle of champagne and celebrated in style (if “sprawled on the sofa watching a movie” qualifies as “in style”).

Two weeks ago we had 14 scenes left to write, and now they’re all checked off. The manuscript came in at just a hair under 110,000 words, which is in line with most of our work.

Of course we can’t rest on our laurels for too long. There’s still plenty of work left to do to get this novel in shape. We’ve been debating our best course of action, whether to immediately go through and address the things we know are issues, or to let the manuscript rest for a little while before doing a full read-through and then tackling the edits. Both approaches have their merits. In the first case, the work is fresh in our minds and it should be easy (ha!) to fiddle with the things we’re not happy with. In the second case, if we step away and lose our infatuation with it, then when we come back we will be better able to see over-arching issues. In either case, this will only be the first of several editing passes. There’s still a lot of work ahead.

Luckily for us we each have a partner we can rely on when the work is tough, and celebrate with when we reach milestones.

Go Team Skelley!

Transformation Into a Wolf

  • k-avatarHi. Hello. Hello? Heh-lo.
  • – Stark naked!
  • grew owl’s wings and talons
  • congenital anonymity
  • muddy boots took up a lot of room

Transformation into a wolf is actually a highly unusual form of lycanthropy. I’ve known only two werewolves, but at least eight people who grew owl’s wings and talons at the new moon. Dozens of weremonkeys, too. But best not to dwell on them.

These unfortunates almost always learn of their plight at dawn, when they awaken in some unfamiliar outdoor locale – Stark naked!

I met Marie on a rooftop that way. She was still groggy, sated with innocent flesh, and slow to wake up.

Hi. Hello. Hello? Heh-lo.”

At last she discovered her nudity and woke with a gasp. I gallantly offered my coat, and took her downstairs to my condo. We first made love in the hall closet, where muddy boots took up a lot of room. Then we moved on to the kitchen, and finally the bed.

Marie doesn’t remember me. My curse is different from hers. Rather than agonizing metamorphosis into a mindless beast, I suffer from congenital anonymity.

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

Have You Ever Heard of Hieronymus Warhol?

  • by jensluggish and contented
  • didn’t have bathtubs
  • He died in 1970
  • tooth and toenail
  • I’m vain and I’m lazy
  • put him at a cobbler’s bench

Have you ever heard of Hieronymus Warhol? He died in 1970, sluggish and contented, in a poverty-stricken neighborhood in Rio de Janeiro where the inhabitants were so poor they didn’t have bathtubs. Or so rumor has it.

What really happened in Rio was that Warhol ran afoul of a politician by making unwanted advances at the man’s wife. Warhol was famous for saying, “I’m vain and I’m lazy,” so the politico had him kidnapped and put him at a cobbler’s bench where he was forced to make the lady in question a pair of stiletto heels using only tooth and toenail for tools.

In later years Warhol called it one of the most grueling and sexually satisfying ordeals of his life.

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

Tables Turned

r-avatarIn the middle part of the writing of this novel, Jen was feeling a little disconnected from the subject matter. As we’ve mentioned before, this one’s more hard science fiction than the others have been, and the hard scifi is Kent’s bailiwick. That left the majority of the writing for him while Jen cheered from the sidelines (she did find ways to keep herself useful).

We’re over that hump (and past the 100,000 word mark), closing in on the ending, and a lot of the technical stuff has been written. We’re into the emotional fallout section, where our characters are dealing (or failing to deal) with the repercussions of all that crazy science stuff, and suddenly Kent is the one feeling a little lost.

It seems that he got so invested in the research, and the writing of the technical stuff, that he lost touch a bit with the emotional life of the characters.

If he were writing this book alone, that would be a cause for major concern, just as Jen would have been floundering to write the earlier part on her own. But since we work as a team, we cover for each other and it all comes together beautifully.

Collaborating with a writing partner can allow you to explore a genre and tell a story that you would struggle with on your own.