Month: September 2011

The problem with fonts

Posted on by Ashlee Scheuerman in Writing

I’m a self-confessed typeface fanatic. Being both a writer and a visual artist, the appearance of fonts means a lot to me. So when I start seeing people complain endlessly about one font or another used for submissions, I both understand, and find occasion to resent their outlook.

It’s fine to have a favoured typeface. Everyone who deals with text probably does! But unless an editor or agent has specifically and clearly stated in their submission guidelines that they expect a certain font, they don’t get the freedom to judge a piece if someone is using a perfectly neat and professional typeface (Times, Garamond, Courier, so on).

This comes about because I once read an article by an editor, one of those “writers tips” kind of pieces. In it, this person made some noises about being biased against submissions printed in Courier. There was an implication made that a writer submitting in Courier was doing it all for appearances, to try and make themselves seem more “genuine” as an author or some bizarre conception.

As a person who chooses to write in Courier (Dark Courier, to be precise), I felt pretty irritated. If I submit in Courier, it’s because that’s A) what I use personally, B) a very common industry standard, and C) they haven’t said not to. I like monospace fonts very much. They are comfortable and clear to read while I’m typing, and they’re very neat and tidy in print. When it comes down to it, Courier was the accepted norm for so many years, it’s just unprofessional for an editor to act like anyone using it is doing so for show.

Don’t get me wrong: if an editor, agent or any other industry professional specifically states that they would like to receive submissions in a certain typeface, by all means, a bit of exasperation is expected if they still get submissions in a different font. A writer should read and follow the submission guidelines of every individual they approach. As long as the editor/agent’s expectations have been made easily accessible and easy to understand, there’s no good excuse for them not to be followed.

But if there’s nothing specific to go on, I’ll be submitting hard copies in my size 12, indented, double-spaced Dark Courier. If someone doesn’t like that font, they need to make their preferences clear from the outset.

~A

Changes over time

Posted on by Ashlee Scheuerman in Writing

The more you practice, the better you get, right? I don’t know if that’s necessarily true, not in such simple terms. Certainly, you get more practiced the longer you are doing something, but does it really result in improvements?

Even with the knowledge that personal taste is a huge part of any judgement, I know of artists who have a career that spans many years and shows some kind of decline the longer they work in their field. With some graphic artists, the changes often show they have fallen into a simple, easy-to-repeat style. They simplify so they can keep producing their work. This is a kind of improvement; they are now more streamlined and capable of fulfilling their obligation to draw frequently. But it doesn’t make it better, artistically.

In that vein, some authors are so prevalent with their writing, you can see when they fall into a rhythm, a method to continue putting forth their creations with such astounding frequency. They work for years and keep writing, and even if you’re still entertained by their work, they have found ways to simplify and streamline, perhaps sacrificing something important along the way.

Maybe it’s the compulsive, habitual nature of humans that makes even artists fall back on something that’s almost uncreative in its repetition. Or perhaps some people just fixate on a specific style and consciously aim to recreate that, as their “tried and true” method. Or, heaven forbid, maybe we’re all only capable of producing our work in a limited number of ways, and it’s just when you’re able to see a large collection that it becomes evident.

These people are all very well practiced, and I’m sure they are very happy with the progression of their skill, but it doesn’t always work out better, as far as I can see. I have even noted in my own writing, new things might be put together with better skill, yet lack in some kind of special soul that an older work captured. At least I can put that down to most of it being unfinished, still in the process of becoming something better, becoming the attractive finished product.

I don’t like the idea of stagnation. I see patterns in my work, certainly, but I can only hope that there’s no decline in the quality just because I find ways to “improve” over time.

~A

A line between fiction and reality

Posted on by Ashlee Scheuerman in Writing

Before I threw myself headlong into other projects, I strongly considered going back and finishing my romance novel, known as FiA. But I have a rather significant concern surrounding that story, and haven’t quite been able to work on it.

In its simplest form, the setting for FiA is natural disaster stranding the two main characters together, where they fall into some kind of love (romance, after all!). In the time between birthing the full plot, and when I was going to return to working on FiA, a very similar event actually occurred in the location my book is set in.

It almost feels insensitive for me to write my novel about this location, and about this kind of disaster, when in somewhat recent times that place has gone through such a terrible experience. My feeling is borderline irrational; the location has seen other such disasters over time (as with many places on this fine planet, you get hot-spots for natural disasters, like Tornado Alley). It’s part of why I chose that location. The setting is realistic, the events plausible.

My handling of the event in FiA is befittingly serious. I don’t make light of suffering, but it’s also not the direct focus of the story, since it’s pretty much just the catalyst for the characters to be together. I hope that, given enough time, I’ll feel comfortable in writing this book again. I was really enjoying the experience, and the little that I got through taught me a lot.

I have the capacity to over-think my work to a degree I hadn’t realised beforehand. Writing FiA made me see that I could get just as caught up in my version of the real world as I can in fantasy (writing descriptions of a place I’ve only seen in photographs is wondrous!). I know I haven’t finished with this story, but I don’t know when I’ll go back to it, either.

~A

Complicated types of taste

Posted on by Ashlee Scheuerman in Thoughts, Writing

I don’t pretend to be very widely read anymore, because there are just SO MANY books out there, and I don’t have the time or inclination to consume them the way many others do. I don’t read books that are outside of my normal tastes very frequently, and even in some genres I only read a specific author. This doesn’t really bother me, though I do try to keep up with what’s new and interesting (or old and interesting!), because I have a certain responsibility to know what my chosen profession is doing, right?

So in my quest to remain somewhat attached to the comings and goings of the writing world, I still read books, and sometimes just for the sake of seeing what all the fuss is about. Occasionally, this means I read a really incredible book that is well worth the time and effort, and sometimes this means I am left in a state of wonderment that there should be anything considered remarkable about a book.

There isn’t a simple way to divide and define these books. What makes a person enjoy one story over another? It can be a case of fantastic characters, epic storytelling, or just a universal concept delivered in an accessible format. Maybe they are believable scenarios, or deep truths, or a subject you’re already passionate about. These traits don’t serve as a defining point, though. There are books that people love with honestly one-dimensional characters, then books that the same people will reject for having that flaw. I know this, because I make frank comparisons in my reading and I see myself doing it.

What makes a problem become a fatal flaw in one work, when it can be overlooked in others? Is it the cumulative quality that actually spurs our decisions, and we just put it down to the first simplified answer we come across? What’s worse, we learn all these rules about writing (that are surely for breaking!) and we appreciate why they are important, yet a book can come along and seemingly disregard all the important things you’ve ever learnt, and still be a good book.

I suppose the quest to understand what makes a story good is one of those endless, unanswerable things. Not just because everyone has their own personal taste, but because sometimes the things we love in one instance are the things we hate at other times. People are uniquely capable of these amazing contradictions. At the end of the day, there probably isn’t an answer at all. Not even to ourselves.

~A

Re-reading

Posted on by Ashlee Scheuerman in Thoughts

I haven’t been reading very many new books recently. I’ve just been way more interested in revisiting stories I’ve already read through. I’ve acquired new books (or as is more likely the case, second-hand books which I haven’t read before), and just not found much reason to delve into them.

I try and analyse why I feel this way. There’s a lot to be said for already knowing I enjoy a story. I guess as I feel like reading time is some pretty prime real estate in my daily life, I don’t always want to use that time on a book that I may not love at the end of it all. When I re-read a story, it’s because I remember just enough of it that I know I will feel great about it afterwards.

I’ve never been one of those people who remembers a book really thoroughly, and that serves me extra well when I take to re-reading. I know the general gist of the story, but there are still parts that I don’t remember until I’m reading it again. Even in my most favourite book, which has been given well over twenty read-throughs, still gives me entertainment from my poor memory for details.

Of the new books I have read, I’ve enjoyed all of them. They’ve all been awesome, so the investment was well worth it. I don’t know why I am so hesitant to give the other books a chance, since there have been very few books in my life that I have actively disliked.

I think part of it, too, is that I love to re-read stories and see what makes them work. Why do I like it, how does the writer do it, what makes this story successful? Re-reading gives me new perspectives on books, because the first read-through is almost entirely for my enjoyment of a story. I don’t tear them apart until I already know what happens. So maybe my desire to read old books stems more from a desire to learn about the craft, even when that isn’t my total conscious decision.

Whatever the case, it’s always nice to meet up with old friends in good stories, and enjoy their tale once more.

~A

And now, a return to your regular viewing

Posted on by Ashlee Scheuerman in Blogging, Thoughts, Writing

I can safely say from August 9th through until today (September 5th, I note), I have done next to nothing productive. I actually went away during that time, and should have had normal internet to retain contact and updates, but just a fluke of location made the connection non-viable. Aside from that, with my cat dying, and being hit by the most god-awful case of influenza, I just lost a lot of time in the past month.

I have glimmers of awareness that I am, in fact, rejoining the land of the living. I can stay awake for most of the day! For a while there, I was actually sleeping some obscene amount, over 20 hours a day. That is unheard of in my life, so there’s some gauge for the severity of my illness and despair. I’m also hungry. You can always tell that I’m on my way back to good health when eating becomes a priority again.

With my experiences to reflect upon, I have come to terms with the fact that I have absolutely no way to focus on my writing whenever I go away. I take my equipment, I intend on using spare time to keep working, and it NEVER happens. Ever. So I accept that I am not an out-of-house writer.

It was a surreal feeling to truly quantify how long it had been since I was even mentally in my story world. I considered this while I was still pretty ill and prone to sleeping all day, so the thoughts were kind of hazy. I was actually wondering what I used to do, before all this, before the month. Who was I? What was important? It was like my characters were under an invisibility cloak, and I had suddenly realised the room was very empty. So I searched, and I came across an anomaly in all that blankness, something from a half-remembered dream. I used to write. I have people waiting for me, stories not fully told.

It didn’t all come rushing back in some blaze of creative glory. I was probably in the middle of drifting back to sleep, but the knowledge had been released, freed from the cone of silence. I thought of names and faces I hadn’t considered for almost an entire month, of their plans and conflicts, and it was weird. Weird that I hadn’t thought of them, when they had consumed so much of my mind previously. Weird to think about them again, and not have the clarity of the constant, immediate work on their story, but also weird because there was that secret little passion tucked away with them. The one that makes me a writer. I remembered their story, and it began niggling in the back of my head. I want to read what I’ve already written, and throw myself back in. I need to.

So maybe to say I’ve rejoined the land of the living isn’t entirely honest. I’ve woken up, though. I’m here. The part of me that doesn’t just lay around and feel sad and lost is gaining ground, gently soothing back the parts which are still tired and raw. And I missed you guys. I like my collection of internet peoples, you’re all so bright and interesting! It’s nice to be aware again. I hope your month hasn’t been anything like mine.

~A