Tag: ideas

  • Desert Island Necessities (What does an author really need?)

    Ferry-2A sImagine, if you will, that your cruise ship hit an iceberg, encountered a hurricane or wandered into the Bermuda Triangle. You’ve managed to escape unscathed and have landed on a desert island all by your lonesome. Abundant food is everywhere, just waiting for you to pluck it from a tree or bush, but what will ease your loneliness? And if you happen to be an author like me, how will you get your work done (sorry, no slackers, even for the shipwrecked).

    While you sit on a beautiful sandy beach bemoaning the loss of that gorgeous sequined dress (or killer tux) that you’d planned to wear to the captain’s dinner, ten crates from the wreckage float up on shore. You check the labels and are delighted to discover that these boxes hold exactly what you would most want, both to soothe you personally, and to keep you on track writing your novel, all while trapped on a desert island awaiting rescue.

    So, what’s in the first five boxes?  Here’s my list, everything I need for personal comfort:

    1) Chocolate (preferably dark)

    2) An assortment of novels (science fiction, mystery, romance)

    3) An mp3 player loaded with music (classical, country, soft rock)

    4) A house-sized tent, complete with plush air mattress (a girl needs her comfort)

    5) A flare gun (a girl can also be practical)

    And for my author side:

    1) Chocolate (a necessity for all occasions)

    2) A solar-powered, water-proof, sand-proof laptop

    3) Word processor, dictionary & thesaurus software

    4) At least a dozen ideas (Mmm, probably won’t get those from a box)

    hp photosmart 7205) A cat to keep me company (and that one definitely shouldn’t come floating up in a box)

    So what lands on your white sand beach?  What would be impossible to live without on an isolated island? If you’re an author, what would you desperately need? Let me know in the comments.

  • Why I Can’t Write Your Story

    I got another one of those e-mails the other day. If you’re a published author, you’ve probably received one or two. It always starts out with some variation of “I have the most incredible story to tell, and it’s all true.” Or the writer will state, “It’s like a cross of Popular Book A and Popular Book B, except better.” And somewhere in there it will say, “I’m not a very good writer, so that’s why I’m contacting you.”

    Even if they don’t spell it out, the intention of the person who sent the e-mail is clear. They think their idea is so terrific that they want me, Ms. Published Author, to write it as a book. They believe their idea is so great that they’re sure I will jump at the chance to write the book on spec (i.e., with no payment) for the opportunity to make big money down the line.

    I usually ignore e-mails like this one because it’s never something I want to pursue. There’s never anything in the e-mail that tells me the person is a fan of my work. They just found me on the web, or in a listing of authors somewhere and threw out an e-mail to me.

    In the case of this particular e-mail, I did respond because of one line: “I am completely clueless how to get started, or where to go with this.” That meant to me that although she claims she’s not a very good writer, she was open to information. And it turned out I was right. When she responded to my e-mail, she was grateful for the information I’d passed on.

    Here’s a little of what I told her, and a few other points:

    • Professional writers don’t work for free. If we don’t charge for our work, we can’t make a living.
    • I have no shortage of ideas. I’m not looking for ideas from other people. In fact, I wish I had the time to write all the ideas that are floating around in my own head.
    • Ideas are actually the easy-easy-easy part. Constructing a novel-length story around that idea is what’s really hard and time consuming.
    • Sometimes people’s life stories aren’t as interesting as they seem to the person who lived it. Not to mention you will have to fictionalize parts of it to make it fit into the above mentioned story.
    • If your life story truly is that interesting, you ought to be the one to write it. Because you are the one most passionate about it. Because you’re the one who really cares about it.
    • Sometimes people say they’re not very good at writing when they really mean they don’t like to write. And maybe they don’t like to write because they were never properly taught how. The best solution to that is to take a class–at your local community college, online, at the library, wherever you find one offered. Learn enough to see if you actually do like writing, then you can write your story yourself.

    What if this person does learn the craft of writing, writes her life story, and it turns out to be so fantastic she gets a giant book deal? I will be thrilled. I’ll be proud that I might have had a tiny bit to do with that. But truly, it will be her own hard work that got her to bestsellerdom. And that will make the victory all the sweeter for her.

  • Embryonic TANKBORN (How a Script Became a Book, Part 1)

    I think the question authors are asked most often is “Where do you get your ideas?” Unless I’m being flip (“Mail order. Three for a buck for the hackneyed ones, a couple hundred for a really stellar concept), I find it a hard question to answer. That’s because a novel is so complex, with so many moving parts. Ideas were required for many, many aspects of my YA science fiction novel, Tankborn. The characters, the plot twists, the setting, all the various details of world building.

    But if I back away from the details (which is hard for me to do) and answer the question more broadly, I have a very quick answer to where I got the idea for Tankborn. Tankborn came from Icer. In a way, Icer was the book embryo that became Tankborn.

    So, what, you ask, was Icer? Those of you who have read some of my interviews might know that I used to write screenplays (movie scripts). Icer was the first screenplay I ever wrote. When I lived in L.A., I used to take writing classes through UCLA Extension (UCLA was also my alma mater, where I got my MS in computer science).

    One of the classes I took was a screenwriting class, sometime in the early 1980s. I took notes in a steno notebook, which included the scribbled notation at left which is the very first time the concept of a “tankborn” was committed to paper. I didn’t call these still-to-be-created beings tankborns yet, but that scribbled note was the genesis of the idea.

    If you enlarge the image, you’ll see that I originally named the character Jeffry Rose and her age was 28. Jeffry Rose was a futuristic inter-planetary investigator I featured in a couple of SF stories back in the late 70s, early 80s. As I developed Icer, Jeffry Rose became Kayla Hand (the surname because of the strength in Kayla’s hands). Then that surname was dropped in later producer meetings.

    The instructor of the screenwriting class liked my story concept so much that after the class ended, he coached me through a “beat outline” or “beat sheet” to help me finish the script. As an example, to the left is a sample beat sheet (click for a larger image) for part of a Star Trek: TNG (“The Children”) that I also wrote back in that era (more details on that below). I probably completed the original Icer screenplay in the early to mid-1980s. Here’s how I described the gestation tanks in the opening of a very early version of Icer. I’m leaving out the dialogue that’s intercut in this description:

    The cells finally begin to resolve into a fetus, almost too small to be recognized as human. A larger fetus, and we see it’s floating not in the womb, but in an alien green fluid. The fetus spins slowly, until we see its face. The eyes open wide. They’re colorless, the iris solid white.

    We see another fetus, turning slowly beside the first, its eyes colorless as well. A third fetus with wide, staring white eyes. We pull back to see another fetus, then another, all immersed in the green fluid of a gen-tank.

    Note that the white eyes was how the genetically engineered slaves were identified in early script versions. Later a producer pointed out that white eyes would make it difficult for actors to convey emotions, so the identifying white eyes became a tattoo of a DNA strand of the characters’ cheek.

    Icer went through innumerable re-writes over the years as it was optioned by a couple of different production companies. That process was pretty interesting, but I think I’ll leave that story for another post.

    During the time I was writing Icer, I also played around with television scriptwriting. The usual way of things is to write a sample script for a current, very popular TV show (in my case, it was Murder, She Wrote, which was very big back then). The idea was not to sell that particular script but to use it as your calling card to get work.

    But Star Trek: The Next Generation was different. For ST:TNG, anyone could submit over the transom. I ended up writing two for the Next Gen series.  For the first of the two ST scripts I wrote, “The Children,” I plagiarized myself, borrowing the “tankborn” concept. ST scripts had five acts that were preceded by a teaser. In the teaser of “The Children,” the crew transports down to a planet to respond to a distress call and discovers something strange in a lab. Here’s how part of it reads:

    As Riker still stares, the shot WIDENS to include Tasha and Beverly, with similar expressions. Then we see what fascinates and appalls them, the source of the green glow: Five tanks, filled with an eerie green liquid. And inside each tank, suspended like a fetus in an amniotic sea, is a child, each one identified by a nameplate on the tank.

    The Trekkers out there can tell from the crew names what era of ST:TNG this episode might have fit into. An agent submitted the script for me, but sadly, they passed, saying they were working on an episode that was too similar. They encouraged me to re-submit, but by the time I wrote a second script, the original producer had departed the show, and the new one didn’t like my work.

    More later on Icer.