The best non-writing thing I do that helps me write is really quite boring. Eat well, sleep well, and exercise. If the body’s not working, the rest of me can’t, either.

Of course, here in the Castle of The Dark Forgotten, common activities take a slightly different turn. Warm up with a little hellfire, get some cardio swordplay with the trolls, lift a few boulders, and after that, a little stretching on the rack. Ninety minutes of that, and I’m ready to hit the showers.

Yes, it’s easy to live the simple life here. A simple mattress in a stone cell offers few distractions. One can drift off to sleep to the gentle howling of the hellhounds, and then wake to the morning screech of the gargoyles. In between, eight solid hours of tomb-like silence. If that appeals to you, it is possible to upgrade to the mausoleum suite, which offers a luxury coffin plus a small sitting area with genuine Victorian stonework decor.

Dining opportunities are varied. Given the wide range of species resident in the Castle, food services here are necessarily talented and, dare I say it, athletic. Fast food still has to be caught—and let me assure you everything is absolutely fresh. If you prefer to dine out, there are a variety of fine restaurants and bars mere steps away from the Castle door. My personal favourite is the Empire Hotel, where the lounge is run by the so-friendly bartender, Joe. Just don’t go during a full moon as some of the customers prefer take-out.

Yes, as I say, it’s important to take care of your personal health while doing anything creative. Health equals energy equals the kind of spirit capable of seizing on inspiration. It’s true that writing is 10% inspiration and 90% perspiration, but without that 10% leavening the rest, anything you do will come out reading like an instruction manual.

And you really don’t want the instruction manuals from the Castle.

I just wonder what they might be???

Secrets can be good or bad.

The secrets of the post-published life are plentiful in good AND bad ways. I’ve talked before about the shock of discovering how much self promotion was involved in authorhood. I’m not going to cover that ground again, even though it’s a topic I can whine about ad nauseum. Instead, the Big Sekrit I’m going to talk about is one I learned long before I was published. It was one of those bits of information I picked and filed away without knowing its value until I really needed it.

Here it is:

Survival is the name of the game. Be prepared to adapt as a writer. Don’t be afraid to try new things.

Reasons for this abound. One is that tastes change. People like historical yesterday, paranormal today, and kink with tribbles tomorrow. It doesn’t always pay to chase trends, but a certain amount of mobility is essential. Otherwise, we’d all still be in helmet hair and shoulder pads—and that would just be scary.

Another reason is the constant roller coaster of the publishing industry itself. Lines fail. Editors leave. What fit for one may not work for the next that you approach. They may have all the kink with tribbles they need, but require pirates in lacy underwear. Or maybe you’re competing against the queen of tribble sex, and just can’t seem to get any traction with readers. Instead, you know there’s an unfilled market for Wild West sagas featuring the hairless Chihuahua porn hero, Alpha Romero. It might be something new to you, but it’s an untouched gold mine. Give it a shot, and you’ll not only land a contract, but perhaps discover your métier.

Footnote: Sometimes trying a new genre is very revealing. Every writer needs to discover the voice they have, not the one they think they should have. Working against self-assumptions can be healthy.

The third, and most important, reason to experiment is that writers are primarily artists. They need room to grow, stay fresh, and push their limits. Staying in the safe zone is the kiss of death. This is one reason why authors constantly rebrand themselves and launch their careers over and over again. Many have two different careers at the same time working on very different lines. It’s not just money issues. Versatility keeps a writer on the right side of editorial and artistic Darwinism.

My question is, in the interests of cross-genre experimentation, should we introduce Romero to the tribbles?

So this was annoying.

I’ve had some internet frustrations of late, but last night my email stopped working altogether. I grumbled, but forgot about it, thinking it would clear up overnight. It didn’t. When I finally had a chance to phone and get the scoop today, I couldn’t believe what I was told.

I’ve been with a small local internet provider since I first got email–I’m guessing since about 1992-ish back when dial-up was the big new deal. When highspeed came along, the company piggybacked their service onto Big Conglomerate’s equipment, but still provided their individual, personal service. I supported them because they’re local and good to me.

Unfortunately, Big Conglomerate, without explanation or consultation, changed their billing policy, wanting Small Independent to pay several months in advance. Small Independent bills people like me monthly. I sense a cash flow problem here.

So last night Big Conglomerate pulled the plug on Small Independent’s customers, including me. The only recourse my trusty provider had was to throw in the towel and tell their customers to go sign up with Conglomerate. Which, unfortunately, I had to do if I wanted my email messages anytime soon.

I had to hold on the phone for forty-five minutes to get assistance from Big Conglomerate. This is why I never used them.

This whole thing feels like a highjacking, and I’m peeved.

I always have more ideas than I can use in a book. Part of my process isn’t so much pulling things together as weeding things out, and it’s an emotional process. There’s nothing worse than characters looking at you with big, sad eyes when you tell them it’s not their turn to come out on stage. Next book. Maybe. They trudge away, dragging their feet, heads bowed, mumbling something about contracts.

The problem is that I never know exactly what goes or stays until draft 1 is complete. A lot comes to light when there’s a chance to step away and think about the book as a whole. Given deadlines, that usually lasts about ten minutes, but a period of several weeks is best.

What emerges for me is theme. One writes a series of events, but one also writes what the book is about. That “about” is key and constitutes much of what they call the writer’s voice. What issues to you address through the actions of your characters? Family? Self-actualization? Fate? Atonement? The iniquity of shoulder pads?

Sometimes I start out thinking my book is about X only to discover it’s about Y. The theme that sneaks into my text is usually smarter, more sophisticated and altogether better. My next step—part one of the pulling together process—is then reshaping what I’ve done to show it to best advantage and the pretending that’s what I meant to write all along.

My biggest flaw is dropped threads. As I head into draft 2, I’m constantly tripping over plot ideas that fit some other version of the story but have nada to do with the end product. A lot of this has to do with the breathless rush that happens when characters are telling me their scenes. I just record the stuff as it comes along, figuring I’ll go back and fix it later. I keep a notebook by the computer where I can jot notes down. Right now as I write ICED I have:
• What did Perry know? Why did he ask Baines to go to the University?
• Why did they kill St. Hiliare?
• Who was the gunman?
Don’t ask me. I have to figure it out like everyone else.
Eventually, though, the questions have to be answered, and that’s the other big “pulling together” that happens. Nothing bugs me worse than sloppy plotting, so I can’t exactly let myself off the hook. Some threads will get snipped off. Others will be properly woven into the story. If I do a good job, the effect will be seamless.

Someday I’m going to keep a log of how much time I spend writing a book versus editing it. By the time page proofs are done, I’m willing to bet the ratio is 2:1 or even 3:1 in favour of editing. Anyone want to place bets?