Babel Clash

So Jesse wants us to get into the funny.  That’s cool.  I can roll with the funny–and not just the sort of funny that involves erecting elaborate scarecrows around the edges of the campsite while everyone else is still sleeping (although that was pretty funny).  I’m a funny girl.  I have to be, because funny is an absolutely integral part of horror.  Allow me to elaborate.

Have you ever been scared?  I mean really, really scared?  I’m talking about the kind of scared that makes your stomach drop down to your ankles and your head feel like it’s full of helium while your feet feel like they’re made of lead.  Think about that feeling.  Now?  Think about the way you felt immediately after you realized that you weren’t about to be eaten alive by an undead clown made entirely out of spiders.  Are you giggling nervously?  Well, you’re not alone.

Laughter is a natural human response to fear.  When something scares you, you try to laugh it off.  You make light of it, make jokes about it, because that keeps your brain from completely overloading.  (The line between “healthy, cleansing laughter” and “scary, hysterical laughter that makes everyone inch away from you and consider taking their chances with the zombies” is tragically thin, by the way.  So try not to laugh too much.)

My favorite horror movies and novels have always been the ones that included an element of comedy.  Stephen King’s IT is a beautiful example of blending screams with laughter–the kids may have everything evil under the sun to deal with, but they still get the giggles, goof off, and generally act like actual people put into an unbearable situation.  Or take Slither, written and directed by James Gunn.  That movie is insane, and I mean that in the best way possible.  And yes, all those people keep laughing, keep making jokes, and keep getting obsessed with little things, because that’s what keeps you sane when things get unbearable.

I find it really troublesome when horror loses its sense of humor.  No, a decapitation shouldn’t be funny, but that’s an extreme, and there’s a whole lot of room on the other end of the scale.  If things get too grim, too unrelentingly dark and depressing, why should I even bother trying to make it through?  It might be better to bow out while I still can, and go enjoy a story that still allows for a little bit of giggling in between the screams.  (It’s also possible to go too far toward the funny, resulting in things like Jason X, which was a lot of fun, but wasn’t really a horror movie.  Finding that fine line is part of the art of writing horror, like walking a trapeze line over a swimming pool filled with hungry mutant piranha.)

You can’t spell “slaughter” without “laughter.”  And that’s exactly the way I like it.

I’ve spent the whole day writing and re-writing a single page in my book. This is not because I’m stumped. It’s just that this page is critical. There’s some information that the reader needs, information that the heroine needs, and it all has to be written with a certain degree of delicacy and verve.

Every page in a book is important. But some pages are more important than others. Some pages hold fundamental, vital parts of the story — and thus, hold a great deal of power over the reader’s understanding of the story.

For example, in A WILD LIGHT there’s a scene near the middle of the book where Maxine learns something pretty awful about herself. It took forever to write, because it had to be just right. A revelation that big, and its aftermath, is hard to craft.

I’ve got to run back to the book, but keep that in mind, at times, as you work. Every page requires your devotion, but some command more than others.

Do you ever have days when really important things happen that demand your full attention…and that have nothing to do with work?

Yeah. That’s my day.

Having said that, I have cleared out the morning, and I’m ready to get down and dirty with the book.

Time management is always an issue in any job — but I find that writers have to fight especially hard to keep track of the minutes and hours, especially those of us who work at home full-time. Distractions are easy to come by. Emails bing. Cats meow. Poodles want to kick you off the couch. Maybe you need another snack to help you think.

Sometimes you’ve got to turn it all off. Go hide out. Close the door on the pets, lock yourself away from the internet. Easier said than done. And not even practical for some.

Everyone has a different process. At the end of the day, though, you need to get the work done.

So, off I go!

So, it turns out that I did jinx myself the other day. Fabulous!

It’s not writer’s block. I’ll call it a…conundrum. A twist in the story. A sense that something is not quite right.

I printed out the book. I’m going to read it through. Contemplate what works and what doesn’t. Try to find the fun again.

At Comic Con, a very sweet young woman asked me about writer’s block and how I handle it. What I told her is that it has been a process. When I first began doing this professionally — when I had my first deadline, and a story that had to be written, and oh Lord what happens next was always on my mind, without any good answer — I would keep trying to bang at the wall until something broke. That was my answer to writer’s block.

Except nothing would break. I was writing a story that had gone off the rail, because I didn’t want to backtrack and throw out all that other work I’d done. I was hoarding. I was hiding. I was being a coward with the words.

Don’t be afraid to throw out your words. That’s what I learned. Because, just between you and me, you never really lose anything (unless your computer goes bonkers, but that’s another story). Salvage what you can, place it in another part of the book…but don’t hold on to what doesn’t work, even if it’s beautiful writing. You’ll drive yourself crazy.

So, as I said, I’m going to sit back today with a cup of hot tea and the manuscript in my hand…I’ll read with a pen, and something sweet to eat.   I’ll take a walk in the sunshine, and go through those pages.

I’ll think about the book. I’ll think about the kind of story I’m trying to tell, and I’ll figure out what needs to come next — what to keep, and what to discard — and I won’t hit the wall. I’ll just climb it.

Write down the thoughts of the moment. Those that come unsought for are commonly the most valuable. ~Francis Bacon

I’m writing a book at the moment.

This is not unusual. I’m always writing a book. I don’t want to discuss it too much, because I might jinx myself. But I will say one thing: this latest project is my answer to the itch and urge to explore something new.

Kelley spoke about restlessness yesterday. I don’t know whether or not this book will lead into a new series, but it could. And despite the extra work, I’ll be happy to have another playground to build sandcastles in.

I’m asked most about where I get my ideas, where inspiration comes from. Those are such hard questions, because the answer is: I don’t know. Inspiration is elusive – and finding it, or being found — is like being hit by lightning. Unexpected and unpredictable.

Inspiration is not a calculation. It’s a force of nature. Your nature, born of an unconscious lifetime. It’s like dealing with any other gut instinct – you have to listen to it, cultivate it. Show some trust.

Which is easier said than done, because trust alone doesn’t make a great story, or solve plot holes or write a fight scene. It doesn’t help you turn a description of the shining moon into a glint on broken glass (to paraphrase Anton Chekov).

But trust, friends, is the same as faith. And when you’re in the trenches, when you’re alone with your story in the middle of the night and you’re exhausted, and the end is nowhere in sight, you need to draw on that faith – in yourself and in the idea. You need to reach for the inspiration that struck you, and use it to keep the fire burning.

The fire is always burning.

The first book I sold was TIGER EYE, a paranormal romance about a psychic metalsmith and a shape-shifting warrior cursed to spend his life as a slave to others. I set the first half of the book in Beijing, China.  Other writers told me that was a “risky” move.  You know, because books set outside America wouldn’t sell.

“Whatever!” I said. And when I was informed that someone with a Chinese last name would turn away readers…well, I made a similar, but far less polite, reply.

You have to follow your heart, and listen to your gut. Be your own guide. The artist, Elizabeth Briel, wrote: “It’s not that I have a problem with authorities - I just choose to make my own way through the world, rather than pay their edicts too much attention.”

Exactly.

I still write paranormal romance. I love it. I also love reading romance, though I tend to gravitate toward historical novels instead of the supernatural (with some exceptions:  Lynn Viehl, Eve Silver, Kelley Armstrong, etc).  Lisa Kleypas novels are reproducing on my nightstand at an alarming rate, making babies with Liz Carlyle (and having secret love children with Elizabeth Hoyt and Loretta Chase). Will I ever write a historical? Never say never, though at this point, I seriously doubt it.

Still, one should never be afraid of trying new things. Some years ago, I had the opportunity to write the novella, HUNTER KISS. In doing so, I met a character I didn’t want to let go of. Maxine Kiss, last descendant of an ancient bloodline, and covered in living tattoos: little demons with a taste for teddy bears and rock music.

So I switched hands. I jumped from paranormal romance to urban fantasy. I wanted to tell a different kind of story. Shake things up. Stagnation can creep upon you without a warning, and it was happening to me, I could feel it. Write in only one voice for too long, and that’s the only voice you’ll ever have. Writing is a muscle, friends. You need to flex it in different ways.

Then came comics. Another chance to do something different, in a whole new medium. I wasn’t thinking about expanding my audience (though I have).  I wanted tell a story (again) in a brand new way. I wanted to push myself.

You never stop learning. You never let yourself grow complacent. Love the challenge of trying new things, of taking opportunities that are a risk — but a lovely risk that will feed you, and teach you, and expand your view of what is possible.

Don’t be afraid to try.

“Writing comics? Still the best job in the world. I sit around all day making shit up and see it illustrated, in 99% of cases, exactly as I imagined it — if not better. I’ve been doing this a long time now, and I’m going to do it until I die. Which probably won’t be long, given the constant insane deadline pressure.” — Warren Ellis

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Congrats to Tamar bat Avraham, whose name I pulled from the hat! Contact me at marjoriemliu (at) gowebway (dot) com with your shipping information!

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I’m a novelist, first and foremost. I adore writing comics, though it’s my natural inclination to write prose. Still, I love trying new things and telling different kinds of stories, so I wasn’t put off by the challenge of trying my hand at the comic-style of storytelling — which is in script format. I’ve attached the first page of Dark Wolverine 84, so you can get a sense of what this looks like (though everyone has a different way of doing things).

I learned from example. When I first started at Marvel, editor John Barber gave me several sample scripts to study for format and style. I was already familiar with the characters I was supposed to be writing — Kiden, Bobby, from NYX — and once I sat down to write, the story flowed. That’s the thing about comics and novels — it’s all storytelling. You just have to shift your focus a bit. I did need a corrective hand when it came to pacing — visually, it’s better to end certain scenes at the end of the page, for example — and, visually, there were some things I’d written that were difficult for artist Kalman Andrasofszky to portray. But it all worked out in the end, thanks to my wonderful editors.

Yesterday, Kelley posed the question of whether or not working in comics had helped her writing. I can say, with certainty, that it has helped me. For one thing, you have to keep your stories tight. You only have twenty-two pages to play with. Sharp dialogue is incredibly important. You can’t be loose with your words, and every little bit of space counts. You also have to hone your sense of visual content. I’ve been lucky enough to work with brilliant artists, inkers, and colorists, really extraordinary people who bring tremendous life to everything they touch. When I shape an issue, I give some indication for how a panel should look — but it’s the artist who gives the story its soul.

I don’t have an artist to work with when I write my novels (oh, I would love for them to be illustrated), but working in comics has helped me develop a better instinct for what visuals are essential to a scene, what you need to progress the story without dumping in a lot of unnecessary extras. I haven’t gone completely barebones yet, but it’s something I’ve begun to think about more as I write.

Finally, I’ve learned a lot about plotting stories. I am not, and never will be, an outliner. I’ve said that so many times, in so many different ways, it’s practically part of my author identity. But, I happen to co-write Dark Wolverine with a fantastic outliner. Daniel Way can plot a story in one breath, and make it sound brilliant. I still don’t know how he does it, but I’ve learned so much from working with him; specifically, that plotting a story does not have to be some insurmountable burden. It’s an incredibly useful tool, and I’ve been attempting — in small doses — to plan out my books, tiny sections at a time. Not so far in advance that I lose the thrill of discovering the story, but just enough to help me think about the plot, instead of hurling myself headfirst and blind into it.

That mindset has been helping me as I work on my new novel (a paranormal chick-lit mystery), and it helped as I wrote A WILD LIGHT, which took several major detours, plot-wise — but each one was well-thought out!

When you read novels or comics — or newspapers, or anything at all — are you ever struck with a sense that you’re learning something? Is there one book or author in particular that you feel as though you learned something from, after reading his or her work?

“We’re on our way to rescue a queen, overthrow an evil wizard, and win back a country. Care to join us?” - Wolverine (from Marvel Comics, X-Men, etc)

It’s been mentioned more than once that I’m nuts to write so many different things, but as I like to joke, I’ve got a black belt in crazy — so that makes it all okay.

In addition to novels, I write comic books. I didn’t grow up reading comics. In fact, I remember being less than impressed when my friends would drag their latest haul to school and flip through them with a sort of wide-eyed wonderment that I just didn’t get. The pictures were pretty, but what else was there?

Fast forward a couple years. I started watching the X-Men cartoon on FOX, and that sealed the deal. I loved that show. It was gritty and kind of grown-up, and the characters had actual story-arcs that played out through each successive episode. It was really good stuff. But I still wasn’t reading comics. I was interested, but I didn’t have access to them.

Until I went to college. Powerhouse Comics was just down the street, and one day I wandered in. No one else was there. Just me and the man who ran the place, and who was happy to let me browse on my own. I picked up the X-Men that day, and Batman, Deadpool…a lot of books. And then I went back the next week, and the week after that. I began collecting issues. I spent real money. What was I thinking?

I was thinking that I loved this stuff! It was pure soap opera.  A gruff man with claws getting his heart broken; a woman who could never touch another living being (not even the sexy thief who loved her); space battles and cosmic powers; and kids saving the world. I wanted to write those characters! I wanted to play in that universe!

So, fast forward another couple years. I’d sold my first novel, and was seated with my agent. It was Halloween. Her adorable son ran up wearing a Spiderman costume, and I said, “Wow, that is so cute. And by the way, I read comics and love them.”

And my agent said, “Well, it just so happens that Marvel signed a licensing agreement with Pocket to publish novels based on certain characters…and I know the editor who is looking for writers.”

That caught my attention. I submitted a proposal and ended up writing X-Men: Dark Mirror. And that, friends, was my foot in the door. The folks at Marvel liked the work I did on the novel, and after three years of discussion, they invited me to write NYX: No Way Home. That led to my current run on Dark Wolverine, which led to Black Widow, and the upcoming X-23. I’ve been blessed with the chance to work with wonderful artists, editors, and writers in a completely different genre than the one I began in, and it’s been a fantastic experience.

Kelley Armstrong, who had a wonderful run on Angel, is joining us tomorrow — and I’d love to know how she got her start in comics.  Kelley?  How did that happen for you?

In the meantime, I’m giving away a copy of NYX: No Way Home, Dark Wolverine: The Prince, Masked (an anthology of superhero fiction), and X-Men: Dark Mirror to one lucky person who leaves their name in the comments. Chime in with some of your favorite superheroes and comic books!

I just spent today driving up from Los Angeles to Monterey, along the coastal CA-1 North route. In the morning, the light was thin and wane. By mid-day, clouds had occluded the sun and made the light murky. Early afternoon brought a sunshine that illuminated everything like a painting by Turner, making each landscape around each bend stand out in sharp relief. By late afternoon, a richness had invaded those same landscapes as the sun began to set.

Just driving through these amazing coastal settings, let alone stopping alone the way, has already inspired all kinds of thoughts for future stories. The texture, the way the scrub and earth pick up richness and lose it, the verdigris of undergrowth racing down the side of mountains, the stark boldness of the blue sea, the fireworks explosions of golden reeds appearing between tufts of dull green grass and stunted trees–all of this combined with the variety of sea smells, the kelp and shells and sand black and light on the beaches almost overwhelms the mind, but also fortifies it.

Whether it’s characters or settings or something else entirely, I know this drive through unfamiliar territory will crop up in my fiction. It brings to mind as well something the writer Jon Courtney Grimwood said on a panel once, about having to visit a place in order to write about it. This may be true of novels set in real locations, but it’s also true of fantasy novels. Today, I picked up a hundred different entry points to story.

For anyone reading who creates things, whether stories or something more physical–what kinds of catalysts spark your imagination?

James and Matt,

For aspiring fantasy writers out there, would you recommend that they first read broadly within the fantasy category to become an expert, or would you recommend reading the best writers from a diverse mix of genres?