Author Archives: mary

(Image of “Azazel” by Stephanie Bajema.)

I remember sitting in the 2010 edition of Superstars Writing Seminars when Kevin J. Anderson gave his now-infamous professionalism example: “If you agree to write for a purple unicorn anthology, be a professional and write the best damn purple unicorn story you can, no matter how dumb you think the concept is.”

Surveys agree: most people think purple unicorns are pretty ridiculous.

But I’m a Firebringer Trilogy fan (as I wrote about back in May) and a My Little Pony fan since 1983. Purple unicorns are serious business to me. I knew I could write a purple unicorn story straight-up: no irony, no metaphor, no punchline. The challenge, to me, would be to show a reader what purple unicorns look like through my eyes.

And when the Purple Unicorn Anthology , One Horn To Rule Them All, became a reality, I had my chance. This would be a collection of short stories, the sales of which would fund scholarships for deserving future Superstars, showcasing our storytelling talents.

I played a game during my preteen and early teen years, when I went down to my grandparents’ basement with Fashion Star Fillies and Barbies. The toys were avatars – symbols of a sort – for a fantasy epic I conjured in my mind. I imagined the colourful talking unicorns from the Firebringer Trilogy, the exotic desert setting from The Black Stallion Returns, the warrior women from The Secret of the Unicorn Queen and spun these concepts into a universe all my own, a game I called simply Unicorn Warriors.

If I could write what Unicorn Warriors looked like to a fourteen year old girl, I knew I’d have my purple unicorn story.

On the other hand, I had to fit those teenage emotions and concepts through the experience I’d accumulated since. One thing that experience told me was that “writing an adventure” the way I sat down to a game of Unicorn Warriors wasn’t going to be enough. I had to show a character growing and changing, not just dash off the short story equivalent of a half hour cartoon, and though I knew the world of the Unicorn Warriors inside out, a new reader would be coming to it without any background knowledge. I was going to have to be explicit about the setting and the themes; I was going to have to craft a definitive beginning and ending; I was going to have to make my characters feel like real people.

I don’t have any memory of creating origin stories for any of the Unicorn Warriors. I think a lot of my original character concepts were partly borrowed wholesale from popular fiction (a little bit of She-Ra, a little bit of Xena) and partly thinly veiled versions of myself and my friends. I didn’t need to introduce these characters because I already “knew who they were,” so most of their time was spent seeking out treasures, fighting monsters and outwitting evil kings. By writing my Purple Unicorn story as an origin for one of the Unicorn Warriors, I could introduce readers to the world through the character’s eyes. I could also show the character’s growth as she makes the decision to join the Warriors. And I made the character the same age I was when I started to play this game.

I also had to decide what aspects of my original game to leave in and what to cut out. In an early draft of A Single Spark, there’s a teryx–a fabulous bird–circling overhead, watching the main character struggle. The teryx is a friend and ally of the Unicorn Warriors’ leader, and in my games, the teryx allowed the Warriors to learn about things that happened when they weren’t present, as long as the bird was watching. When I started writing, of course I wrote in the teryx. But on my third version of the draft, I realized that the teryx didn’t serve any function in the current story. It was just there because it had always been there in the games. And I was writing long. The teryx was cut. Maturity and experience taught me that “because it’s awesome!” isn’t, in itself, enough to keep something unnecessary in a story.

Another benefit of the decades between the Purple Unicorn anthology and the original Unicorn Warriors was an understanding of research. I did some actual research on Persian culture and the desert environment instead of relying on stereotypes and other works of fiction. I gave my Warriors and their unicorns new names, with considered meaning behind them, including that of my protagonist, Sharareh, whose name means A Single Spark, which is also the title and major theme of my story. And instead of using generic unicorns, I found real-world unicorn mythology that would make my unicorns as culturally distinct as their riders.

Because if you dismiss a karkadann as ridiculous fluff, you do so at your own peril.

To support Superstars Writing Seminars scholarships, meet the Unicorn Warriors, and enjoy a great anthology of speculative fiction, you can get your own copy of One Horn To Rule Them All in print and e-book formats right here:

Logging those Flight Hours

October 3, 2014

mary

Mary Pletsch The Writing Life 1 Comment

I don’t have a lot of feeling in half of my left hand. I developed an ulnar entrapment in my mid 20s and went to a specialist to see what could be done. I was offered a choice: surgery that had a 50% chance of restoring the sensation, and a 50% chance of leaving me with movement problems in addition to sensation problems.

I skipped the surgery. I may not always be able to feel my fingers, but at least they work: I can still type, and I can still write.

I’ve written before about my challenges with aphasia, but I got an unpleasant surprise a few months ago when I developed a persistent ache in my right wrist. I wasn’t sure what I’d done to cause the pain. I couldn’t remember tripping and landing on it, picking up something too heavy, or any precise moment when the pain began.

I had story submissions that I wanted to complete. Even if I let those slide, I still had to go to work, in a job that required computer use. It was like the surgery choice all over again, except this time, there was no choice. There was only a what-if: What if I can’t write any more? What if I have carpal tunnel? What if I lose movement, not just feeling, in my hands?

Fortunately, I was moving cross-country this summer, meaning I’d be out of work and offline with my computer packed for travel. I didn’t use a computer very often for a period of about six weeks. My wrist finally started feeling better. All healed up, I got my computer online in my new home and sat down to do some writing.

Ow.

This wrist problem is very real, and, while I can manage it, it is not going away. The spectre of developing carpal tunnel syndrome or sustaining further nerve damage hovers over me even as I try to boost my daily word count.

I now wear my braces when I’m writing. No exceptions. I’ve also switched my mouse to the left side of my desk, so that I’m using my non-dominant hand for pointing and clicking. I’m hoping that by outsourcing the bulk of the point and click work to my other hand, I can give my right hand more of a break. I’m also undergoing treatment for shoulder and back pain.

When I was flying gliders, we had to record how much time the aircraft spent in flight. After a certain number of flight hours, the airframes were stripped down and rebuilt from the ground up to ensure all the components were in proper working condition. The human body isn’t an aircraft, and I won’t be able to swap out parts when they get worn out. I plan on writing for the rest of my life, and in order to do so, I need to take proper care of my wrists and back.

Long term, I may need to look into voice-recognition software if the wrist problem intensifies. I’m not sure how well it will work for me, particularly when aphasia is garbling my ability to speak. I am afraid it will not work for me. I am afraid I will need it.

But I will write. I will write somehow, whatever accommodations I need to make to do so safely and healthily.

You are not as immortal as you think you are when you’re young. Parts wear out. Bodies wear down. If you are in it for the long haul…make wise decisions and plan accordingly.

When Life is Larger than Life

September 26, 2014

mary

Character Mary Pletsch The Writing Life Tropes & Archetypes No Comments

A writer friend of mine has cautioned me about borrowing storylines too faithfully from real life. Her words of caution read as follows: “Fiction has to make sense; reality doesn’t.”

If a story doesn’t hold together–if information is missing so that readers don’t understand why or how important events happened, if characters undergo situations without learning or growing or changing in any meaningful way, if the conclusion doesn’t leave readers with a sense of satisfaction–it’s considered a failure on behalf of the writer. But these sort of things happen in real life all the time.

Readers who pick up a murder mystery story can rest assured that by the end of the book, they’re going to know whodunnit (and usually how and why). Real life, on the other hand, is filled with examples of murders that were never solved, missing persons that were never found, and criminals who were never brought to justice. These situations, while realistic (indeed, real), don’t make for satisfying murder mystery stories.

That’s not to say it’s impossible to write a successful story in which a mystery remains unsolved – I think of Minority Report, where the hero’s missing (and never found) child provides motivation for his decisions – but the plot of Minority Report is not centered on the missing son.

Another important factor to consider in fiction is suspension of disbelief. If a character or plot point is too outrageous or implausible, it can shock readers out of the story. It can make a serious story unintentionally humorous, ruining the tone and the mood, or it can leave the reader feeling frustrated and disappointed if they thought they were beginning one kind of story and ended up with another. (No spoilers here, but I recently read a book which began as a realistic-seeming crime story and, in a daring move halfway through, a supernatural element was revealed. I thought it was great, but afterwards I found mixed reviews, depending on the willingness of the readers to shelve their disbelief, accept the unexpected supernatural premise, and continue reading.)

So what do you do when your real-life example is so much larger than life that it stretches plausibility–even though it really happened?

Audie Murphy – the most decorated American soldier of the Second World War – later became an actor and played himself in a movie based on his autobiography, To Hell and Back. Murphy himself was not the typical action-hero–he was shorter and skinnier than the archetypal figure–and though he filmed the movie as an adult, he fought when he was still a teenager. Many of us are used to movies “based on a true story” containing gross exaggerations for dramatic effect. In this cas,e though, comparison between historical accounts and the movie suggests that the film understated Murphy’s heroic deeds. In a world where the usual formula is to overstate the fictional version to make a more dramatic story, To Hell and Back is an example of where real life has been toned down to make the story seem plausible to an audience unfamiliar with the actual history.

My writer friend, who is English, has been following with great amusement the saga of Rob Ford (the mayor of Toronto) over the past year. From conflict of interest trials to admitted public intoxication and crack cocaine use, from lewd comments to investigation by police, and with videos of the mayor drunk, swearing and threatening people posted on Youtube, Mayor Ford is like a reality TV show playing out on the nightly news. He’s real. He’s all too real. And he still intends to run for office again.

But my writer friend says, “You couldn’t make him up.”

You couldn’t make him up, because who would believe in him? Who would believe that the mayor of a provincial capital would conduct himself in this fashion? Try swapping Rob Ford for the leader in a military thriller or political drama. How many readers would be able to suspend their disbelief?

Maybe you could get away with him in a screwball comedy or cheesy cartoon–the genres where viewers aren’t supposed to take anything seriously.

“But he’s real,” you say. “It really happened.”

Now that it’s happened, while he’s still public knowledge, a writer could get away with a serious story involving a crackhead mayor. Before the scandal broke–or in ten or twenty years when Ford is forgotten–not a chance.

Fiction is a craft. By all means, borrow ideas or plot points or character concepts from real life, but be ready to revise them to suit the needs of the story. In the end, the goal of fiction isn’t to provide an accurate historical account, but to tell a coherent and engaging story. Sometimes that means simplifying events, adding explanations, and ramping up drama. And sometimes…just sometimes…that means toning characters down, when real life is just too much “larger than life.”

Fandom is not your career

August 7, 2014

mary

The Writing Life No Comments

I am an unapologetic nerd and I love my fandoms.

124 of my original, 1980s vintage My Little Ponies that I owned from childhood on, an encyclopedic knowledge of Transformers, an appearance on the Gargoyles Season One DVD and a dedication in a Halo novel all indicate just how much I love my fandoms.

In undergraduate university I discovered the Internet was filled with creative fans just like me. Fans who took part in fandom and made it their own through fan fiction, fan art, fan comics, roleplaying, handicrafts, cosplay, conventions…the list goes on.

So, having an affinity for writing, I tried my hand at some fan fiction. I’d mostly quit doing creative writing in the last few years of high school (spending most of my free time on getting my glider and private pilot licenses) and fan fiction brought back to me just how much I loved storytelling. I met people online who read my stuff and gave me feedback: what worked, what didn’t, what they’d like to see next. I had a critique group, an audience, and a fan club all in one.

In my first year at Royal Military College I realized I wanted to be a professional writer. Somewhere down the line, I wanted to tell stories for a career. I wanted to write at a pro level, to create worlds and share my vision and earn at least part of my living doing it–to be able to focus on creating and support myself while doing so.

…but I was still writing fan fiction.

I was getting better, I told myself, and I was. Every writer has to write their million words of crap before they learn to shine, I said, and I did. I’m honing my skills at character development, outlining, foreshadowing, strong beginnings, rewarding endings, I argued, and it was true.

But I couldn’t sell any of it.

I had nothing to submit to paying markets. I had nothing to bring to a writer’s group of people polishing their work for publication. I wasn’t getting any experience at creating worlds from scratch, or working out internal logic for those worlds. I wasn’t learning how to write cover letters, network with industry professionals, or sort out good opportunities from mediocre opportunities from outright predators.

I spent hours roleplaying, convincing myself I was “improving my character building skills.” I was hooked on the kudos I received for the next posted chapter of my fanfic saga, thrilled to hear that people loved my writing. I drew my characters over and over to have models when it came time to describe them in words. I told myself I’d be hot out of the gate when my professional writing career began. But at this point, I was marking time.

Superstars Writing Seminar was a watershed for me. Investing in the seminar meant it was time to start looking at my writing as a career, not a hobby; as a job, not a celebration of my fandom. I quit fanfic writing and roleplaying and fan art and relegated myself to the occasional TV show, comic book and hour of video games.

…I went too far the other way, and was dissatisfied. I missed the social aspect of fandom, I missed playing with my beloved characters, and I felt like a huge component of my life had been cut away.

So I’ve returned to role-playing and fan fiction, but strictly as entertainment. It comes after, not before, my professional writing goals for the day have been met. It comes instead of, not in addition to, other things I might choose to do for fun, like play video games or make crafts. It might support my professional writing by introducing me to more people, picking up my mood when I feel frustrated and battered, and encouraging me to play with words, but it does not take the place of writing original stories, editing them, submitting them, and beginning research on the next.

I don’t do cosplay or make fan comics or draw art challenges any more. With limited time for relaxation, I chose fan fic and roleplaying as my favourite parts of fandom, and let the others go.

If I had it to do over, I’m tempted to say that I’d push myself to start submitting my work sooner. I’m not sure, though, how to pinpoint the time in my life where I was mature enough to not interpret a rejection as a portent of doom, personal insult, or sign of my complete and incurable ineptitude. I’m also grateful for the epic saga I wrote that taught me yes, I do have the ability to write a book’s worth of material.

So instead, I’d tell myself to keep in mind that fandom is not a career.

If you love to write fan fiction, roleplay, cosplay, draw, do voiceovers, whatever…do it! But don’t fool yourself into thinking that your marathon roleplay sessions or your fanfiction epic or your costume of your character are critical building blocks to professionally publishing your first story. Writing that story is a critical building block to publishing that story. So is editing, submitting, learning lessons, networking, and starting a second story in case the first one doesn’t pan out. By all means keep doing what you love, but know that if you want to make writing your career, you need to focus on writing sellable stories, and save your fan activities for your relaxation time.

(And if you’d like to write for licensed IPs – intellectual properties, like Halo and Transformers and My Little Pony – those writers aren’t chosen from the best fanfiction on the internet. Invitations to write for licensed IPs go to people who’ve already proven they have the professionalism to write, edit and sell original fiction. Publishing your original novel will get you there a lot faster than writing your 100th fanfic–or your 1000th.)

Even if you’re not a fan – I’ve seen aspiring writers do a similar thing with writing “prep”. They attend tons of seminars, go to cons, faithfully update their social media, and spend hours on story research and how-to-improve-your-writing books….but rarely write anything. All those things are great, but they don’t replace the fundamental act of writing. You can’t supplement what you’re not actually doing.

If you want to be a writer….write!