Ev Bishop

Every Day Fiction

/ Ev Bishop / 4 Comments

April has been an incredibly hectic month for me. I keep thinking I’ll be able to post all about it–and then something else happens. Oh well, that’s life sometimes. I do have a little something in the works though . . . maybe it’ll get put up Monday?

Happy news for today though–I had a leisurely writing morning, yay! Complete with warm, delicious coffee after coffee, time to play on the Internet and about 800 words in my WIP. 800 words isn’t much to get excited about, I realize, but they were good words and I was excited by how quickly and HARD I fell back into the story.

In other good news: Every Day Fiction accepted a short story I wrote today, which was very fun for me, since I go to their site and read the day’s short story, pretty much every day. If you don’t already, check them out at: http://www.everydayfiction.com

When I know the publication date, I will post it here.

And . . . well, that’s it for today. Have a lovely weekend, everyone. I hope you’re out enjoying sunshine or inside curled up with a good book–or right, you could be writing–that’d be great too! 😀

~Ev

“Red Bird” just out in AlienSkin Magazine

/ Ev Bishop / 8 Comments

It’s always fun to have something new published, and since I’m just starting to sell my fiction, it’s extra fun when it’s a short story. If you have the time and/or inclination, check out “Red Bird” in AlienSkin magazine’s Dec. 09/Jan. 2010 issue.

I’d love feedback, good, bad or ugly!

Happy reading,
Ev

p.s. For readers, AlienSkin Magazine is a free source of great, quirky sci-fi, fantasy, and horror fiction of every bent, from light-hearted and zany to quite dark.

For writers, AlienSkin Magazine is a paying genre market. Support it!

“Red Bird” just out in AlienSkin Magazine

/ Ev Bishop / 8 Comments

It’s always fun to have something new published, and since I’m just starting to sell my fiction, it’s extra fun when it’s a short story. If you have the time and/or inclination, check out “Red Bird” in AlienSkin magazine’s Dec. 09/Jan. 2010 issue.

I’d love feedback, good, bad or ugly!

Happy reading,
Ev

p.s. For readers, AlienSkin Magazine is a free source of great, quirky sci-fi, fantasy, and horror fiction of every bent, from light-hearted and zany to quite dark.

For writers, AlienSkin Magazine is a paying genre market. Support it!

Life imitates art—the editing part anyway . . .

/ Ev Bishop / 9 Comments

I’ve commented before about how I see connections between almost everything in my life and writing. Caving? Well, that’s absolutely a metaphor for writing, of course. Scary movies in childhood? Obviously a lesson in recognizing and dealing with avoidance techniques that might be hurting your writing. Lazy and procrastinating? No, no, no—that’s feeding the muse.

And the latest case of life echoing writing work or vice-versa? Electrical upgrades done in your home (while you’re trying to live and work there) is just like editing a novel. It’s an electrifying truth. (Sorry, couldn’t resist!)

I was not happy to hear that my older home needed to have its panel upgraded from 70-amp service to 200-amp service. (Yes, I’m just showing off newly acquired technical lingo.) My house was comfortable and warm. It had (has!) character. I liked it just fine as it was and it never gave any trouble. Current “code” regulations seem a little on the bizarre side: I’m living here, not operating a nuclear plant . . . but I digress. However unhappy I was to hear it, the needed reno wasn’t a surprise. We knew our house needed more power.

I was not happy to hear from my beloved and much trusted, much appreciated first readers that my latest WIP needed more work. Yes, not happy, but again, not surprised. I already knew I wanted to amp up the tension, rewire a few scenes to dim the focus on the killer, spotlight some red herrings . . .

I thought it would be lovely if the very competent electrician could figure out a way to fix the problems without bashing huge holes in my walls and cutting through lovely painted walls and moulding to get at what he needed to address. He, of course, all artistry aside, could not. Fixing the problem required getting at the guts of the house.

I thought, Hey, I’ve edited a lot of novels now. I’ll just cut in neatly, splice in a line of intrigue, throw a couple of exciting switches . . .

I trust you see where this analogy is going. My eight-inch-thick walls were dismembered and unstuffed. My ceiling is, well, missing in chunks . . . My scenes were (are!) just as mangled. So much for artistry.

But there’s good news. All the hard work, the gruelling work, the omigoodness-please-not-really-don’t-make-me-fix-that-too work pays off.

My house was built to last and the new fixtures, forced air electric heaters, and lovely high-powered service, breakers, fuses, etc. just make what was already there that much better—shine that much brighter.

I trust that I won’t have to resort to mudding and taping and painting my novel to get the same power upgrade in my story.

Interviewed at The Freelance Survivor

/ Ev Bishop / 13 Comments

I was recently interviewed by Dee-Ann LeBlanc of The Freelance Survivor, a site packed full of useful information. Fun! You can read what I had to say here.

Ye Olde Idea Shoppe

/ Ev Bishop / 12 Comments

Stephen King has said he’s frequently asked where he gets his ideas. He gives slightly varying answers, but one of *my favourites, he attributes to a friend of his: “I buy them at the supermarket.” Now it’s obvious he was being a bit facetious—on some level asking a writer where he/she gets ideas is like asking the moon why it hangs in the sky or where the ocean gets its water. There probably is a perfectly reasonable scientific explanation to the query, but I’ll be darned if I’d ever know how to articulate it. And even the best responses would be destroyed with one further question: why? Why do you get ideas for stories? Why indeed. But I digress. Back to ideas, where they come from, and the ones at grocery stores—oh yes, the grocery store. S.K. and his quoted buddy were speaking partially in jest, but they would agree that the statement is factual.

Story ideas abound in grocery stores. They arrive in the produce section (who hasn’t lifted a big yellow clump of bananas and thought about the huge, hairy spider that might have arrived with the shipment?). They lurk about the deli. Why does man keep standing there like that? Is he going to try to shoplift bulk olives? Does he have a thing for the girl at the counter? Is she his long lost child? They sit in well-ordered rows in the canned foods sections. Do you know what’s in that can of refried beans—the third one back in the middle of the row? Well, do you?

When short on cash, or just not in the mood for a big shop, have no fear. Ideas are everywhere:

In conversation, like when a friend recently expressed his suspicion that the reason there are so many more vaccinations now than when we were kids isn’t disease-prevention at all. It’s a safe guard for world governments worried about over-population. If at anytime they want to cull the population, they just have to press a button and release whatever it is that reacts with whatever injection. Story idea!

In overheard snippets of dialogue. “I can’t believe she’d do that. It’s sickening.” What can’t the speaker believe she’d do? And who’s she? And who, come to think of it, is the speaker? And what’s sickening? How sickening?

In dreams (See, that’s what I’d like to know—forget ideas—where do dreams come from? Come to think of it, a story about where dreams come from would be pretty fascinating!)

In physical work, especially it seems to me, in gardening and yard work.

In doing absolutely nothing (which is why, even when I’m really busy, I strive to have do-nothing time . . . It’s good for your brain).

Even in random personal moments. I bought a full-length formal gown (of all things) two weeks ago. Wearing a dress like that makes you (or makes me, anyway) just feel different. And that made me think of a story idea—what if you walked into a vintage store, tried on an outfit, and suddenly—poof—you were you no longer—or you were, but only in the flesh suit and life of the person who’d owned the apparel you now sported? (Hey, I didn’t say every idea was a good idea.)

Chances are if you’re a writer, you don’t need to find ideas. You need to somehow stop tripping on them as they lift the floorboards late at night. You need to carefully replace the stone you moved only to find another one scuttling beside a centipede. You need to do something, anything, to stifle them, so you don’t lose focus on the ones you’ve already collected and are trying to coax onto the bright white page. You understand full well how ideas just appear, well, everywhere, from nowhere.

My question for people who ask, “Where do you get your ideas?” is this: Don’t you get random weird ideas all the time?

I know that not everyone writes, but it never actually occurred to me that perhaps not everyone is inundated with the what-ifs, questions, and strange observations that spark story ideas. I think I thought that ideas came to everyone, just that some people are compelled to do something with them . . .

* If you happen to know where on earth I read this bit—I want to say it’s in On Writing—could you give me page number? I’d like to give the actual name of the person King attributes it to, and I’d like to confirm how it’s worded. Thanks!

The Waiting Game

/ Ev Bishop / 5 Comments

Is there anything more onerous to a writer than the waiting game? Most people tackle a project and then, well, they’re done. Not fiction writers, oh no. They “finish” their work (which could take months, a year, or even years) and send it away, only to have the really time consuming part of the job start: the waiting.

Lurking dangers surround all that waiting. Self-doubt has lots of time to imagine unkind things being said to your story’s face (and to do its own unkind muttering in your head). The desire for regular coffee money might trick you into some cave of a job where you’re paid by the hour. Writer’s block (if you subscribe to that kind of notion) is more prone to leap upon you and starting chewing on your throat—especially if what you want to write next might depend (foolishly!) on whether the circulating work sells (my advice: write like it sells, or don’t and start something entirely new—just write!).

It’s not all bad though. If you let it, waiting to hear back can be kind of like counting down to a vacation. Each passing day is one closer to at least some sort of a response, the wait gets sweeter, the anticipation builds. I’ve learned to use the hope that just won’t die (I’m bandaging my throat here as you read!) as motivation to write the next thing. While your words sit on someone’s desk, there is the endless opportunity that said words might find a home—someone might like that story, poem, article, or what-have-you. Nothing is more inspiring than the idea that someone might relate to your offerings and even (gleep!) want more of them. Exciting stuff.

I try to take full advantage of this wait/hope phenomenon by keeping 6 – 8 things “out there” all the time. That way, rejection doesn’t hurt as much (hope sprints over to another project to rest on) and my inner-creep can’t do as much of a job on my self-esteem.

Hmmmm . . . Is there a point to this post? Yes (lectures self), get your stuff out there and keep it out there until it finds a home. And in the meantime, the waiting time, get busy on the next idea.

Happy writing,
☺ Ev

Cold Calling For Fiction Facts

/ Ev Bishop / 6 Comments

I am a fairly outgoing person—at least in situations where I’ve had time to prepare for being social and can make sure I’m “on.” I am, however, a bit of a phone phobe, even when someone else is calling me, let alone when I—gasp—have to be the one making the call. And I hate feeling like I’m intruding on someone by just showing up to talk business or whatever (it’s a good thing most of my work comes to me, isn’t it? Gah.).

Yet what did I find myself doing yesterday? Dropping in unannounced on various people I’ve never met before to confirm some facts/flesh out details that I need for my novel. The biggest surprise? Well, it’s three-fold actually. 1) I wasn’t even scared! Perhaps I’m too excited about how the writing’s going to feel intimidated. Or perhaps all the work I do with my business now, for people who are initially strangers, is helping me come out of my shell with my fiction too. 2) The people I talked to were not only helpful and informative, they seemed excited about talking to me. 3) My gut-writing was on the right track—there’s very little I have to change in the chapters I was investigating for, so that’s awesome. Maybe my subconscious knows things I don’t. (Ha! No maybes about it.)

Fact checking may be considered the least inspiration-based aspect of fiction writing, but it got my muse all fired up. “You’re getting so close,” he hollered. “People are interested in your storyline—what they’ve heard of it anyway.” I know my innards will be jelly when I try to track down a friendly RCMP member to give me some inside information on procedures and policies, but yesterday’s experience will help with that too. I managed to be coherent, even interesting—and no one seemed to think my questions were stupid (my biggest fear!).

So yes, kudos to cold calling for facts to feed fiction. Whoever gave the stellar advice to “do something that scares you everyday” was really onto something. It’s very invigorating and affirming.

Self-soothing

/ Ev Bishop / 3 Comments

When my daughter was just freshly born, the doctor on duty watched her noiselessly root about for her clenched fist. When her mouth found it, she gave a contented sigh, and the doctor commented that I was lucky—my baby was a self-soother. I asked what he meant and how he could tell. The general gist was that apparently right from birth, people show signs of personality type and individuals who spend a lot of time around babies can tell those who will work to comfort themselves almost from the get-go and those who need help from someone outside themselves for consolation.

As a neurotic, I mean a writer, I’ve given the doctor’s comments a lot of thought over the years, because I seem to have to search for comfort quite often. Is getting down just a natural accompaniment to thinking? Does everyone share my angst? Does everyone feel completely useless, ill equipped for, and entirely intimidated by the endeavours they pursue? (Excuse me while I suck my clenched fist for a moment, please….)

This past week (month), I’ve been suffering what seems to be a reoccurring crisis in my writing life. Writing gives so much, but it also demands a lot. And every so often, I just feel tired. My pile of rejection slips grows, and along with it, my worry that maybe I’m only a competent writer, not a good one. I wonder if I should stick with what’s easy (business writing), and keep my fiction for myself, hoard it away in a drawer…. I can’t quit writing. I love it. I need it. It brings me (despite what this post may suggest) a lot of joy. I just don’t always love the selling-your-wares side that goes along with it.

Compounding my problem (funny how you can know the source of a problem and not just go and fix it!), I’ve been away from my novel for too long. Always a recipe for madness. Anyway, I won’t bore you with all the insecurity and meanness my brain can throw at me—I’ll cut to the part where I root about for comfort and let out a satisfied sigh.

By now I know that that the cure for writing-related-neurosis is to write. When I’m writing every day, I’m insane with story, not self-doubt. However, you can know the medicine you need and still have to steel yourself to gag it down. Some people recommend an equal dose of sugar. I prefer Stephen King.

I wrote cryptic “am going through stuff/will write you later” e-mails to my close writing friends (accidentally scaring them), then got off the computer (the horror, the horror!) and dug out my old standby for times like this: On Writing. No one calls it like it is quite like S.K.

I appreciate his matter-of-fact assertion that I probably am only a competent writer at best; I LOVE how he goes on to assure me that I can become a good writer if I stop being such a whiny little sot and get back to work. He’s a dragon slayer, making all the insecurity and neurosis I deal seem like normal parts of the writing life. His no-exceptions command to be honest when writing is always beneficial. But perhaps the most important affirmation he provides is the reminder that I don’t write for glory or money (obviously); private, intangible things make writing so crucial, so wonderful, so worth it.

I did some journaling. I stared into space. Then I did what I couldn’t put off anymore. I opened the binder that holds the second draft of my latest novel and read/worked over the first three chapters. And they weren’t that bad. They might be okay—or even good. Ish. (Why can’t I just say, Hey, I actually think they’re good? They’re good. There. Gah.) Does any of this bring me any closer to knowing whether or not I’ll ever find an agent, “get published,” or be able to write fiction as a day job instead of fitting it around one? No. But it did something much more important; it reminded me that none of that matters.

In short (well, not in short, it’s a bit late for that, isn’t it?), I rooted around to find those things near me that I could use to comfort myself, to get myself back at the page again, and in doing so and experiencing that “Ahhhhhh, finally” feeling, I find myself wondering (just like I always do when I’ve let myself get out of hand) what was the big deal anyway? Why didn’t I just sit my butt down and face the page at the first onset of nervousness ages ago. It’s a mystery…. One that I’d promise not to repeat, but by now I know myself too well. It’s not if I need the reminder again… it’s when. Until then though, I’m feeling quite determined to never let a day go by without writing.

(I heard your sceptical snort-laugh! Stop that.)

Wherever you are on the writing sanity spectrum, I hope your project’s going well. And if it’s not? Well, suck it up, Princess, and get back to it. (My extremely modified version of S.K. encouragement. Whaddya think? Did it work?)

Happy writing,
Ev