Happy Birthday, Fictorians!

I have tried my hand aBirthday4t blogging many different times. Most bloggers I know have similar experiences, of starting out with a lot of fire and vigor, but then hitting long patches when the passion is missing in action. Sometimes when bloggers get to this stage, they go on hiatus. Maybe they’ll have a resurgence a year or two later. Maybe they won’t.

Creating a well-read blog is even harder, because attracting regular readers requires a lot of content, and not just a high volume but a consistent, reliable supply that fits a schedule. Well, if you’re on your own, that’s tough to pull off long-term.

After doing some research, I’ve found that the average lifespan of a blog is about 2.5 years, give or take. That average is slightly skewed by a few blogs that have been unusually successful, so it appears that the majority of blogs actually die prior to reaching their second birthday. And don’t even get me started on the viability of creating a blog about writing, as we have striven so hard to do. There are seemingly endless writing blogs out there, making it almost impossible to be seen and heard.

And yet, here we are: birthday number two.

The Fictorian Era is still around for several reasons. First of all, our dedication. It has not always been easy, and our approach and overall mission has had to change a number of times. Second of all, our numbers. Instead of trying to shoulder out some online space for ourselves by working alone, we decided to team up. You know the old adage about there being strength in numbers? It’s true. Together, we have brought together some of the best content by writers for writers anywhere on the internet. And two years into this endeavor, we’re only getting started.

I could wax philosophical all day, but I’m not the only person standing on this particular soapbox. So, pop a bottle of champagne and read on down the page to the next post, where fellow Fictorian Colette Black takes a backward look at how our little site came to be.

And don’t forget to come back every day this week. We’re going to be delivering a lot more special content to commemorate this very important milestone.

Still Holding Hands: A Fictorians Retrospective

In March of 2010 a number of aspiring writers, including myself, attended a seminar that inspired us in ways we’d never expected. I met a number of amazing people at the Superstars Writing Seminar. People whom I will consider close friends for the rest of my life. When Clancy asked if I’d like to stay in touch and handed me a piece of paper, I added my name to the list. I never imagined how that would change my life.

Every week for a solid year the Superstars Goal Group, as we called ourselves, sent emails to one another listing our accomplishments for the previous week and our goals for the following week. Kylie spearheaded the group during that time, making sure the email never skipped a beat. It was a great motivator for me, and I think it served a similar function for the rest of us. As we went along, I also noticed that when anyone had a question, with our combined resources and experience, there were always at least two or three people who had useful answers. Though most of us were unknown at that point as writers, as a group we had something to offer.

In one of those goal emails, on March 7, 2011, I posted this as an afterthought: “Has anyone ever considered putting together a blog of some kind? If everyone contributed and we only did weekly posts then it wouldn’t take up much of our time. We could do spec fiction, book reviews, or aspiring writer helps-talking about workshops, retreats, conferences, local writing groups, how we manage our various obstacles for our time… etc.” As you can surmise, the response was positive.

We invited a friend of mine, and very talented writer, Heidi Berthiaume to join our group. She didn’t stay for long, but she orchestrated much of our web design and helped us with initial formatting. As we searched for a name, a few of the more interesting suggestions were:  FlingingWords, respiringwriters, FlyingAuthorSaucer, and GeekAndYeShallFind. (P.S. Demian ran the e-vote and did the initial setup for the blog, and Rich came up with the name we eventually chose-Fictorians). Heidi set up a calendar page to keep us all on track, and Matt has always jumped up with technical assistance when those of us who don’t understand computer code need a little help.

I believe our first post, March 30, 2011, was by Nancy, “The Benefit of Holding Hands,“ and that summarizes the reason for all the name-dropping I’ve been doing for the past few paragraphs. What I love most about our Fictorian community is that we really do hold hands. We’ve critiqued one another’s work on occasion, we’ve written blog posts together, and we’ve cried and congratulated together during the most difficult and most successful points in our careers. From the blog’s inception, we’ve worked together in a way that I believe is rarely seen. And not just two or three people. Take a look at the Fictorian list, guest post bloggers, and the entire community. Even those who have been pulled away by other commitments remain guest posters.

With Evan as the moderator, the active Fictorians have had an annual conference call to supplement our email conversations and make the big decisions. In everything we’ve done, we’ve decided it together. The votes aren’t always unanimous, but they are always amicable. I feel supremely privileged to be part of this group, and look forward to another year as we strive to achieve our main goal of helping other writers.

It’s More Than Just Sex

Woman Reading a DiaryThere was a time when romance was mostly identified as housewife porn and bodice-rippers.  Those days are long gone, let me tell ya. Romance has evolved and is more popular than ever.

Nowadays, there are many sub-genre’s within romance. To name just a few:

  • contemporary
  • multicultural
  • suspense
  • action
  • religious – which could include Christian, Amish… maybe Druid (I saw a guest post that had a Druid book albeit not romance, but what the heck.)
  • the paranormal / fantasy range – which could include vampires, witchcraft, shape-shifters, time travel, mythology, futuristic  and sci-fi
  • historical – which could be western, regency, medieval and specific to regions like Scotland, England, Ireland… even Rome and Greece are starting to make appearances
  • young adult
  • the clean / not-sexed up variety – not to say these aren’t fraught with chemistry and  tension, but any sex would happen behind closed doors and the reader is not privy to it
  • erotic – which could include BDSM, all manner of gender pairings and threesomes plus (although, please do not confuse this with erotica… it’s a pet peeve and others can disagree with me, but IMHO Erotic Romance is about the romance and happens to have explicit sex scenes while Erotica is primarily about the sex. One is not better or worse, they just have a different focus.)

So, with all the sub-genre options out there, how does one know it’s a romance rather than a (Pick your genre) with romantic elements?  Well, it’s not just sex. There are rules to follow and elements that can’t be ignored.

First, as L.L. Muir mentioned in her post on YA Romance, a romance needs to be at least 51% about the relationship and its journey to a Happy-Ever-After (HEA).  The other stuff (like action, history, sex, etc..) is nice but in a romance, you should be able to take those elements out and still have your basic story of persons meet, persons fall for each other, persons have bumps along the way to HEA.

Last month, I talked about the characters and their traits that go into a romance: the hero, the heroine, the sidekick and the antagonist or villain.  We need them, we need to love them, we need to root for them to get together.

We also need conflict. Internal and external.  Our lovers need to have internal issues that keep them from having successful relationships, thus far.  Issues they will resolve or come to grips with in order to be with each other.  Maybe our hero has trust issues, maybe our heroine can’t commit.  They’ll realize through their journey that the other is worth the effort to overcome these personal problems and they’ll be better people for having each other in their life.

The external conflict may be that they have diametrically opposed goals and one of them is going to have to change something in order to overcome this barrier.  Think You’ve Got Mail. Meg Ryan wants her little bookstore to continue, but can’t in light of Tom Hank’s big box book store opening around the corner.  This is a problem.  How will they overcome it?  That’s the journey.  We have no doubt they will (cuz it’s a romance), we just don’t know how.engaged couple holding on hands - view from backside

Which brings us to that HEA.  Yes, we know the persons in question will end up together. We take great satisfaction in that.  We crave that happy ending.  What we also crave is the optimism that comes along with it.  Sure, they struggle.  Sure, they may even hate each other at some point, but love and hate are a very thin line apart. Sure, they have ups and downs and bumps and bruises. But – and it’s an important “but’ – we know when we turn that last page, they will be together, love will triumph and Happy-Ever-After is achievable.

I know that optimism, that hope, feeds me. I can relate. I can believe that despite my own dubious history of relationships that love can conquer all. I just haven’t found Mr. Right … yet J

Love is, after all, universal.

What did I neglect to mention?  Or what about romance appeals to you?

The Pitfalls of Genre

Guest Post by Gregory D. Little

Greg LittleSo what genre do you write in?

I always inwardly cringe at this question. Genre is an inescapable part of fiction, and for good reason. It’s a useful tool. Necessary, even. Trying to talk about fiction without touching on genre would be like trying to describe the color red. The fact is that the human brain is hard-wired to simplify and categorize. It’s a necessary short-cut, one that keeps us from burning excess energy trying to remember too much detail.

Genre is just another means to that end. It’s a time-saver, a chaos-reducer. We all have limited time and money. Will I like this book? Well, it’s an epic fantasy, and I’ve liked other epic fantasies. Automatically your bet is safer. You pick up a book, quickly discern its genre, and are comforted. You can even tailor your decision to your mood. A mystery when you want to be thrilled. An epic fantasy when you want to feel wonder. Erotica when you want … well, you know.

So the genre of a story tells us what to expect. More than that, the tropes inherent in each genre know the shortest paths to evoking feeling. Every trope that exists does so because it’s tried and true. On some level, it works. When you select your fiction by genre, you are investing your money and time in that sense of certainty.

Yet the same part of our brains that excels in categorization short-cuts can lead us to prejudice and bigotry. And the certainty and safety of genre can quickly become a prison for the unwary writer. Must all noir begin with a mysterious woman entering the shabby office of a hard-bitten detective? Must epic fantasy always sprawl across many volumes and feature a world overflowing with detail? You’d be forgiven if you sometimes thought so.

Even more confusing, most genres have fluid definitions. Is Star Wars science fiction or fantasy? It has space travel, laser swords and aliens, but also magic. Most people would describe it as space opera, but I’ve also heard it referred to as a fantasy set in space. So it turns out the definitions of the various genres can’t even be agreed upon.

Yet fluid or no, the pressure to conform your writing to those genre labels is still there. Publishers love such labels. Categories make marketing easier, which makes selling things easier. Think how many times you’ve heard “If you liked X, you’ll love Y! It’s basically X with a new twist!” I think a lot of new writers feel compelled force-fit their writing into rigidly defined genres for the purposes of pitching and selling. I know I’ve felt that way.

Yet as I’ve started writing more frequently and regularly, I’ve begun to feel stifled if I try to color only within genre lines. It began with a shift in my reading habits. I still read plenty of works that fit comfortably within genre lines. But the books that really get me excited are the books that cross genres, blur the lines between them, or even actively subvert and reject them.

Perdido Street Station by China Mieville is a good example of what I’m talking about. Is it steampunk? Secondary world fantasy? Extra-dimensional horror? It could be all of these or none. All I know is that it blew me away when I read it.

Finding and reading such works is one thing. Writing them can be another. The tracks that familiar tropes wear into your mind over time are often so deep they are hard to notice. If you aren’t careful, you’ll find yourself tending to slouch lazily into those tropes even when you don’t mean to. Breaking out of them at all can be difficult. You’ll have to cultivate a healthy mistrust of your own brain, shooting down first, second, third ideas, anything that feels too comfortable. Because the brain will naturally default to ideas it’s seen and liked in the past. Learning when to trust such instincts and when not to takes practice.

Even if you succeed, there are pitfalls. Crossing genres in the wrong way can create problems with mixed tones. Avoiding or subverting too many tropes can undermine the emotional core of the work. If you tap into too few emotional shortcuts, the story will fail to satisfy the reader at all. It’s a balancing act, but in this writer’s opinion, it’s worth the risk. Because when those genre-busting stories work, there is-by definition-nothing else like them. And because the only thing more fun than reading such stories is writing them.

So by all means, experiment. Strike out in unexpected directions with plot, setting or character. Abandon your story’s genre entirely. Or if that thought leaves you too far adrift, pick out your genre’s more useful elements and lay them within your story’s foundation. Keep that foundation below ground. Then try to build something amazing atop it, something beautiful for its strangeness, something so different it worries you. Even frightens you. Follow your story wherever it takes you, even if that’s out across trackless ground.