I’m not the best person to tackle this subject, but I’m going to do my best, with empathy and respect. I’m a straight white guy, arguably an old straight white guy now, and there have been a ton of protagonists that have looked like me and sounded like me. Representation matters, and it’s easy for me to find a character in a book or a movie that is superficially like me.

Maybe I’m going too fast. Let me slow down and break down what I just said, one piece at a time.

What do people mean when they say, “representation matters”? It starts when we’re young. We look up to our heroes and we try to see ourselves. When a child sees an astronaut or a superhero that looks like them, it’s easy for them to imagine being that person. Our dreams as children are only as big as our heroes. I’m pretty sure I wanted to be Superman with a lightsaber at some point. Maybe Melissa wanted to be Wonder Woman.

If I had been something other than white when I was little, I might not have been able to see myself so easily as Superman or Luke Skywalker. It’s hard for me to say. I had the privilege of getting to grow up not really thinking about race. As far as gender and sexual orientation, it was a completely different time and what I was exposed to was neither kind nor compassionate.

Representation matters, and as I said at the beginning, it’s simple for me to find characters that are superficially similar to me. Why did I include the word “superficially”? Doesn’t that imply that representation doesn’t matter? Am I trying to hedge?

I don’t think so. Not every black person has the same lived experience. Neither has ever gay person. I described myself as a straight old white guy, but that’s not really my lived experience, either. I’m adopted. I grew up in a household with a mother that wasn’t always there and a father that was drunk most of the time, until my early teens. I was surrounded by people that made devastatingly difficult life choices, and like a lot of Gen X folks, I muddled through on my own. I had panic attacks in Junior High. I was afraid all the time, and I got into a lot of physical fights.

There are lots of people that look like me, but there are not a lot of people that are actually like me. Sometimes that’s for the best, because I can be a lot.

I think representation matters most for the younger folks. All kids, regardless of their race, gender, or sexuality, should be able to find heroes like them, and be given the opportunity to dream big and aspire to be anything. By the time someone is my age, they should have learned to look beyond appearances to discern what lies beneath the surface, where our true similarities may be found.

What about queer protagonists in genre fiction? Why is there so many now, and what is that about?

Let’s look at the history of genre fiction. Until the last couple of decades, it was on the outskirts. The world we live in today has been inherited by The Geeks, but before that, geek culture existed behind closed doors. It was nerd stuff.

Awards in genre fiction, such as The Hugo, The Nebula, and The Dragon, carry some clout these days. When The Hugos were first handed out, it was not quite so prestigious. Weirdos ran those conventions and attended them, and the weirdos were the ones selecting which other weirdos should get recognition for the strange and wacky fiction they all celebrated. Tolkien’s contemporaries even tried to shame him for writing fantasy, which was considered unserious and “a waste of time, only useful for escapism.”

Genre fiction has always been where societal boundaries are stress tested first. Genre fiction is where progressive voices get to practice. When the stories are exploring what could have been or what might be, sometimes the narrative dives straight into what should be.

Presently, there should be more queer protagonists. There should be more queer writers, writing queer protagonists, celebrated by audiences, queer or otherwise.

Will I write a story featuring a queer protagonist?

Maybe.

There are lived experiences that I cannot claim, experiences that many queer readers would expect from a story that is meant to speak to and represent them. It would be wrong of me to try and write a queer story. There are other writers that can write that, and we should make sure there is room for them to do so.

I can include queer characters in my stories, though. My main character can be queer, as long as I don’t make that the focus of the story. Some folks are gay. Some folks have dark hair. Some folks have gluten allergies. These are descriptors, and not necessarily character defining traits.

It can be a little confusing when a story is appropriation, and when it is representation. When in doubt, there are readers that can provide feedback and help the writer keep from doing harm with their stories. Misrepresentation and stereotyping can be extremely painful and continue a cycle that oppresses or mischaracterizes people that are already not well represented. So, hire a sensitivity reader, and listen to them if they tell you that you’re doing harm.

Mr. Speaker. Madam Vice President. My esteemed colleagues.

The state of The Brian is strong.

Coming off the release of The Repossessed Ghost, I am feeling satisfied. A life-long dream has been realized, and now I’m developing new dreams to follow.

My health is stable. I’m taking hypertension medicine, but only occasionally, as my blood pressure is staying relatively normal. The low sodium diet appears to be working for me, and I have been exercising more.

I could stand to exercise a lot more, but progress is being made, and progress needs to be acknowledged. Continued progress will lead to a leaner, stronger Brian, the kind of Brian that will see many more summers, many more conventions, and will likely produce many more books.

I haven’t been drafting as much as I like, but I think focusing on the release of The Repossessed Ghost is appropriate writer activity, and it has taken some time and energy.

People have reached out and given me amazing compliments with regards to The Repossessed Ghost. Yesterday at Michael Gallowglas’s shows, he made my book available to his audience, and his support specifically has been life affirming. I feel spoiled. I feel appreciated. This is a good time to be Brian C. E. Buhl, and I’m trying to live in the moment and appreciate it all as much as I can.

We had some hiccups on the goal of writing a blog post every day in July, but as of this post, we are fully caught up and back on track. We have successfully talked about Shoes and Mashed Potatoes, and we managed to get to the other side of The Byzantine-Sasanian War of 620-628 AD. We have operated this platform with integrity, and we will continue to keep the light on in this place for as long as possible.

As far as my day job is concerned, I’m behind on some important work, and that has created a great deal of stress. With regards to extracurricular activities, I have been playing quite a bit of Project Zomboid, especially with Mike and Nick. That’s been excellent fun.

Tonight, I started a new keyboard, the keyboard I intend to make available for the giveaway at the next Writing Excuses Retreat on the Alaskan cruise. Melissa and I have selected our offshore excursions, and we’re both quite excited for them. The near future looks bright.

As I sit here tonight, I have never been more optimistic about my future. I just have to continue to remember who I am.

I am Brian C. E. Buhl and there is nothing beyond my capacity to accomplish, as long as I have the support and love of my friends and family.

May God bless us all. May God protect our troops.

Thank you.

Today’s topic is another one that I think I was given as a joke or a gotcha, but as I woke up this morning, I realized I might have a little bit more to say on this subject, and how I can tie it back to writing.

Mashed potatoes. You take your peeled potatoes and then you boil them, mash them, stick them in a stew, add milk, and season them for taste. People generally go for a smooth consistency, but I personally don’t mind mashed potatoes being a little lumpy. The texture of mashed potatoes can be extremely boring.

That “season for taste” can incorporate quite a bit. It can include salt, pepper, butter, possibly sour cream and chives if you’re freaky. A lot of mashed potatoes are served with gravy. If you were asked to describe the best mashed potatoes you’ve ever had, how much of your description would include the things that were added to the potatoes? “Season for taste” really means “turn this into a palatable food.”

No one’s mouth is watering over plain, unseasoned, mashed potatoes.

The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that potatoes are primarily a conveyance food. French fries are salty, sometimes covered in ketchup. If you’re in Europe, you might be drowning them in mayonnaise, according to Vincent Vega. Jack’s Urban Eats makes an entire meal of French fries, putting all kinds of stuff on them.

Fries and chips can get away with less because of their texture. Plain fries and chips might offer a satisfying crunch; what can plain mashed potatoes offer? If your mashed potatoes are crunchy, something has gone terribly wrong.

But who cares, right?

I think this ties back to writing in that as writers, we take our words, characters, various plots, and we boil them, mash them, stick them in a stew turn them into stories and poems, and hope that what we’ve made is palatable to a reading audience. The seasoning that makes our creation distinctive is our voice. That’s what we bring to the table. It’s the special ingredient that only we can provide.

Now I’m kind of hungry.

When I sought topics to write about in July, someone threw this one in, either as a joke or to stump me.

I didn’t know about this war (and I still don’t, really), but I read the wiki and came away with some thoughts.

This was the longest, bloodiest war between the Byzantine/Roman Empire and the Sasanian Empire of Iran. It started over a matter of pride, and while one side dominated for most of the war, the other side came back, bringing the fight all the way to the walls of Constantinople. It ended with both empires depleted of resources, neither having gained much. Quite the opposite, actually; both empires were left vulnerable. Muslim armies invaded both empires shortly after the war, completely conquering the Sasanians and taking many Byzantine territories.

That’s a very basic summary, which I’m regurgitating from the wiki. A proper historical read would be better, but like I said, I have some thoughts.

It ultimately started from a murder, and what I believe to be a bout of pride. Was there a point when peace could have been achieved, before both empires were destroyed with their own squabbling?

The war achieved nothing but mutual destruction. Are we doomed to see something similar in our near future, as tensions continue to escalate between superpowers?

Of all the quotes about war, from both fictional and real, historical figures, I find myself thinking of Yoda. “War does not make one great.”

People have to stand up against oppression, tyranny, and the unjust. War may be justified and not merely justifiable. I don’t know that the war that is the topic of this post was completely justified, and any potential war coming from recent events seems to be of dubious merit, by my reckoning.

Maybe I’m just a big softy. I prefer love over hate, peace over war, and I just want people to get along and live their best lives.

If you were to ask me what my favorite Shakespeare play is, I would answer Macbeth. I love Macbeth! Romeo and Juliet might make my top 5, but the truth is, I don’t spend nearly as much time thinking about other Shakespearean works as I do Macbeth.

There’s some good stuff in Romeo and Juliet, though, and I bite my thumb at anyone that disagrees with me on this subject. Forbidden love across two warring families, saccharine sweet and over-the-top romantic gestures, followed by the kind of tragedy only a couple of lovestruck teenagers could manage. There is a lot to mine from this story, which is why there have been so many adaptations.

The more I think about it, the more I respect the portrayal of teenagers in Romeo and Juliet. It rings the most true to me, because I remember when I was that age feeling emotions so huge that I couldn’t fit them all in my body. I remember feeling like I could take on the entire world, because love is pure, and right is right, and the realities of the world didn’t matter. I can see a 17-year-old Brian acting out just like Romeo and Juliet. 50-year-old Brian has seen some shit, and while he loves just as large, he also loves with greater wisdom and caution.

There’s a hint of something in Romeo and Juliet that reminds me of modern YA stories. I wonder if YA authors would name Romeo and Juliet as their favorite Shakespearean play the way I so easily name Macbeth. Macbeth appeals to me because of the humanity of it, where ambition and opportunity is enough to overwhelm a good man’s loyalty and propriety. If the witches had not given Macbeth the prophecy, would Macbeth have killed his king? I can see how my stories are influenced by the ideas present in Macbeth.

Similarly, when I think of An Ember in the Ashes by Sabaa Tahir, I’m reminded of the energy of Romeo and Juliet. The two stories are vastly different, but there’s something in the over-the-top romances between the characters, and the desperate teenage longing in Ashes that fits perfectly with the attitudes of Romeo and Juliet.

Am I onto something?

The best shoes are the ones you forget you’re wearing.

Have you ever tried to get around in shoes that were too small? How about broken shoes? You can try to walk a mile in another person’s shoes, but just try to walk any distance in shoes that are broken or that don’t fit, and you’re going to feel it.

Tonight, I moved a bunch of garbage to the curb for a big pickup, and I didn’t wear the right shoes for the job. They were running shoes, and while my feet are fine, I wound up having to walk through a bunch of dried weeds and urban jungle and wound up collecting a bushel of burrs. Steel toes boots would have been the correct footwear for the job, especially since I was moving some heavy objects. It was 108F out there, though, and I thought having breathable shoes would be better. I’m not sure how much breathing could happen when the shoes themselves were choking on burrs.

What else can I say about shoes? My favorite for the longest time were the boots I received during basic training. I don’t think I’ve ever owned another pair of shoes that fit me so well. I walked everywhere in them. They still fit fairly well, but the soles are so worn out that they’re no longer really practical.

Shoes provide clues about the wearer. The kind of person that regularly wears cowboy boots probably subscribes to a particular lifestyle. Combat boots can mean a variety of things, depending on how worn they are, and how the person is wearing them. Combat boots on a Hot Topic goth are going to look different than combat boots on a veteran or someone serving in active duty. Expensive running shoes might suggest a certain amount of disposable income, or at least, some priorities around that particular area of fashion. Generic, Walmart shoes suggests frugality or practicality. And then there are Crocs.

Armed with that information, including a description of a character’s shoes is another way of conveying information to the reader about the character without having to spell it out. What does it say about the antagonist when they walk into the scene, their shiny black dress shoes clacking sharply on the linoleum? What does it say about the protagonist when they pair knee-high leather moccasins with their denim duster? Maybe it’s nothing but affectation and flavor, but then again, there might be a plot point hidden in that detail.

Getting back to what I said at first about shoes, how the best ones are the ones you forget you’re wearing, I think there’s something similar with writing. The best stories, to me, are the ones you can fall into and forget that you are reading.

Not all writing is best when invisible. Poetry and flower prose is there specifically to draw attention to itself and dazzle the reader with all the charms it possesses. But when you fall into a novel and you’re behind the eyes of a character, trapsing through a world and adventure, danger and triumph, there is a disservice writing in such a way that the reader is pulled out of the story and forced to remember that they are, in fact, reading.

It’s something I think about when revising. Clunky sentences get in the way and pull the reader out, because they have to stop and focus on the writing in order to extract meaning. Overly clever sentences can do the same thing. And, as I alluded to in a previous post, unusual punctuation can cause a reader to step more lightly through the story, rather than fall into it and be absorbed.

That’s what I have to say about shoes.

I’ve fallen further behind on the posts, but again, it’s okay. I’ll just keep this going into August and make up the time there. Before August arrives, let’s talk about whiskeys.

Let me preface this by saying that I’m grossly unqualified to talk about whiskeys. There are a few that I like, and there are qualities in various whiskeys that I’m able to latch on to and identify as something I enjoy, but I don’t feel like I have the experience or the vocabulary to do most whiskeys justice. I’m a fifty-year-old whiskey novice. Ask me to talk about writing and I can bend your ear for hours. Ask me to write something about alcohol and you’re only going to get about a page and a half.

My favorite, go-to whiskey is a single malt scotch called Grangestone.

Quick note: I have decided to take the 9 whiskeys in my house and sample them for this blog post so that I would have fresh experiences to draw from. I’m streaming this as I do it, so if anyone wants to see my get slightly inebriated as I do this, they’re welcome to join the fun. As I write this, there is no one else in the chat, but I feel better with the idea that someone could show up, and then I’m not sitting in my office on a Thursday night drinking alone.

This first sample is my go-to, and it is a 21 year old Grangestone. Single malt. The container doesn’t say anything about how it was aged or what casks were used. The tin says, “… it embodies the style, flavor, and heritage of the HIGHLAND REGION. Complex & smooth with mellow VANILLA & HONEY notes and hints of spice & fresh fruit.”

When I smell it, I get the sense of a campfire, which I’ve always associated and enjoyed with my favorites. Drinking it, there is the alcohol fuminess that is inescapable as it coats my tongue, but that’s followed by more of that smoky campfire sensation I enjoy in the smell, and maybe something sweet in the aftertaste. It is completely inoffensive to me.

My next sample is an unremarkable Grangestone, as it doesn’t give an age, but simply says “aged to perfection.” This small bottle came in a sampler, I believe, and the bottle has more to say on how it was aged. Apparently, double maturation. Stage one in white oak. Stage two in bourbon oak casks. So it is bourbon cask finished. I’m guessing from googling that this is a 6 year old. It is also single malt. I don’t remember enjoying this one very much, but we’ll sample it tonight and see.

The scent of it is much sweeter than the first Grangestone, and while there is campfire notes in the fragrance, it is much more subdued. The alcohol sharpness that I have never grown fond of is stronger in this first taste. The aftertaste is not nearly as pleasant as the first Grangestone. It finishes very bitter. This is not my favorite. If I’d saved it for last in these samplings, I might have enjoyed it more because I’d be more inebriated.

The next sample is Jameson. A blended Irish whiskey. I think everyone knows Jameson, so I’ll just go straight to the sample and record my impression.

It smells a little like vanilla, to me. I really like vanilla, so this is very pleasant. The sharp slap of the alcoholic fumes is not as loud as the last sample, but still there. I get a sense of spice and warmth as it coats my tongue. There is still more of that hint of vanilla, though it’s not as strong as what I could smell in the glass. The aftertaste is a little on the bitter side, but not entirely unpleasant. I enjoyed this Jameson more than I remember enjoying it before.

Next up: Shieldaig, an 18-year-old single malt scotch. The bottle also says “speyside” on it. I don’t know if that’s a place or if it means something about the whiskey itself, and I’m too lazy right now to google it.

The smell is not encouraging, as I’m mostly getting acetone in my nose. Under that there might be a sense of subtle sweetness. Drinking it, I get more of the acetone. At the front end was a little bit of spice that lit up parts of my tongue that the other samples haven’t touched yet. The aftertaste was much hotter, almost burning the back of my throat. As I’m typing this, I can feel it like an ember in my stomach.

Fifth sample: The Balvenie. It is a double wood, aged 12 years, sing malt scotch. I think the Jameson might be the only whiskey in our house that isn’t a scotch. According to the bottle, The Balvenie acquires its unique characteristics from being aged in two different types of oak cask.

The smell is very gentle with regards to the fumes. My best words to describe it is “clean and sweet.” I had high hopes for sipping it, but it mostly hit me with the acetone, and I didn’t find the aftertaste particularly remarkable. I guess that’s why we’ve had The Balvenie for as long as we have. I don’t remember buying it, and I don’t see it getting consumed any time soon.

Sixth sample: The Glenrothes, which comes in a very humble bottle that looks a bit like a simplified version of the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch. It is a speyside single malt scotch, bourbon cask reserve. The very simple presentation of the bottle sets my expectations lower than others.

Bringing the glass to my, I can barely smell anything with this one. Drinking it… good lord. It has all the characteristics of sipping a bottle of fingernail remover. More of the sense of burning in the aftertaste. I did not enjoy this one.

Moving on to sample 7: Craigellachie. Another speyside single malt scotch. I looked it up, finally: speyside refers to where the scotch was distilled. Cool. This one says it is 13 years old. A wee teenager.

After this many samples, I’m wondering if my sense of smell is diminished, as again, I’m getting very little from the glass when I put it to my nose. The taste on this one is fascinating. It is spicier than the previous samples, with notes of pepper. The aftertaste is warm and a little bitter, but not terribly so. My pours have started to get a little bit heavier, so I’m wondering if I’m getting more forgiving as I go. I’m starting to feel a little bit of the effects.

Eighth sample: The GlenDronach Port Wood. Another single malt scotch. No age given on the tin or on the bottle. The bottle does say it was enriched in port pipes in Portugal. I don’t know if this means anything, but the scotch is a darker color than the other samples.

I’m able to smell this one. The trouble is, I’m having difficulty putting what I can smell into words. The descriptor I gave before of “clean” is appropriate here, but maybe it’s “clean and spicy.” The spice might be leftover from the Craigellachie. Except I couldn’t smell that one very much. I don’t know.

I didn’t enjoy the flavor of this one. It tasted sour, and spoiled, and a little bit like burned rubber. The acetone aspect of the drink gave it an impression of someone trying to clean up a nasty spill. The after taste was unremarkable. Still a little bit sour at the end. For a moment, I thought it was going to taste a little bit like a savory bread, but then it turned and went to the dark side.

The final sample: Glenmorangie Signet. Another Highland single malt scotch whiskey. I don’t have the age or anything else on it. This is the bottle that Melissa gave me for Christmas many years ago, and I set aside until I had the excellent publishing news I was waiting for. I got to open this when I learned that The Repossessed Ghost was getting published, and at Baycon, I had the opportunity to share it with my publisher. He and Michael Gallowglas have both given it extremely high marks.

The scent is very light. It has some of the campfire scent that I really enjoy in the earlier Grangestone. Tasting it, I get a lot of spiciness like I received from the Craigellachie, though without the hints of pepper. It finishes with strong acetone, but by that time, it’s just warmth going down my throat and into my belly. The acetone dissolves into a second helping of subtle spice, and maybe a hint of that campfire that I enjoy.

That’s 9 different whiskeys. There are three that stand out to me: Grangestone 21, Craigellachie, and Glenmorangie Signet. It occurs to me that there is Jack Daniels and an unremarkable rye in the house, too, but I don’t think I need to review those.

This turned out to be longer than a page and a half. Thanks, Michael Gallowglas, for giving me this topic.

To begin, let’s start with a song by Lonely Island which is a bad example of the use of semicolons.

Before we can talk about the joys of semicolons, we should take a quick refresher on what they’re used for. Off the top of my head, I could remember two main uses: connecting two related clauses and acting king of like a hyper-comma, allowing lists of things that include commas.

Here’s what Google had to say:

• Rule 1: Use a semicolon to connect two related independent clauses. …
• Rule 2: Use a semicolon to replace a coordinating conjunction. …
• Rule 3: Use a semicolon when writing serial lists. …
• Rule 4: Use a semicolon when you have a conjunctive adverb that links two independent clauses.

The list rule is the one that is most often forgotten, and the one that I can create the easiest example. Writers I would like to be favorably compared to include King, Steven; Heinlein, Robert; Asimov, Isaac; and Simmons, Dan.

I’d like to show an example of one of the other uses; I actually don’t use semicolons that often, so I find the exercise difficult.

I like semicolons just fine, and I do use them in my stories when it feels appropriate. I don’t go out of my way to use them, though. I’ll talk more about that in a moment.

What do I like most about semicolons? They open up different expressions of language that I wouldn’t otherwise have access to. Listening to Steven Brust tonight and getting his opinion on semicolons, he mentioned how he got the best of another author by demonstrating that people can speak in semicolons, and he demonstrated it. I think that’s pretty neat, but I don’t think we usually hear our natural speech with interesting punctuation, which gets me to the actual heart of this essay.

The person that suggested I write on this topic absolutely loves using odd punctuation, and I think that’s fine. It’s part of his style. He takes a different stance than I do on the function of writing, and the relationship between the writer and the reader, especially as the writer is drafting. I don’t think he’s necessarily wrong. I think he just has a differing viewpoint.

(He probably thinks I’m wrong, but that’s okay. We can remain friends.)

In my opinion, writing is always communication. What does that mean? To me, it means my goal as a writer is to get the story to the reader as clearly and as cleanly as possible. I want the reader to work a little bit, sometimes, but I don’t want them to get exhausted. I don’t want to distract them. I want what I see in my mind to appear in their mind.

Looking back at what I said about semicolons and their relationship to natural speech, you might understand why I’m not in a hurry to use them, or really any other punctuation that stands out. It’s the same reason I refrain from using dialog tags that are not “said” or “asked.” It’s one of the reasons I read my stories aloud when I start revisions. If it’s hard for me to vocalize, it needs editing.

There is one other thing I should mention with semicolons, and I hope I can talk about it with as much sensitivity as it deserves. Sometimes, you might see someone with a semicolon tattoo. They might talk about it. They might not. If you don’t know, the semicolon is serving the purpose of connecting two independent but related clauses: the difficult time in their life before they contemplated or attempted suicide, and the time after, when they decided to choose life and make a fresh start.

I think that’s all I have to say about that; I have other things I need to finish tonight.

I set myself a goal to write 31 posts in the 31 days of July, and then slipped a day because Melissa and I wanted to see some movies. Then I slipped another day yesterday because I needed to take a break. Is this a writing failure? How do I reconcile myself to the absolute truth that I set a goal for myself, then failed to achieve it?

This is as good a place as any to talk about writing struggles, and what I’ve done to push through them. Sometimes the way through is with mechanical processes. Other times, it’s more of an emotional journey. I’ll talk about both.

Let me first state that this isn’t purely about dealing with writer’s block. I have two really decent posts that talk specifically about writer’s block. Also, Mary Robinette has an excellent post on the subject. What I’m talking about isn’t so much being blocked as much as being impaired. You, the writer, showed up with the idea, the energy, the time, but you’re still not pushing through for a variety of reasons.

Let’s start with a mechanical process, because it may seem very familiar, and it may look pretty much the same as dealing with certain forms of writer’s block. When I was part way through the first draft of Synthetic Dreams, I felt like I was about to lose the story. For reasons that didn’t pan out, I put Synthetic Dreams on hold for a while, and upon returning, found that I lost my train of thought and my notes were not complete. I had 60,000 words written — words I was proud of and new to be the start of something special — but I didn’t see how to put the rest together.

To solve this problem, I needed to see the story from a high level. I reread everything I wrote, including all of my notes. I created 3×5 cards for each of the scenes, both the ones written and the ones I knew I was going to write. Then I put all the cards on the kitchen table and looked at my story.

It didn’t take too long before I had my Eureka! moment. I saw what was missing, and I saw how I could make the story tighter and more satisfying with some minor adjustments. Armed with this knowledge, I was able to get back to work, and a few weeks later, I had a completed first draft.

Like I said, this is a mechanical process. There was some underlying panic and fear going on. Emotions were high. But I managed to reach into my writer’s toolbox and pull out what I needed to circumvent the panic and fear and find the right path going forward.

Not all writing struggles can be solved with mechanics, though.

When lockdown hit, and all my plans for 2020 were cancelled, including a publishing deal that I was really looking forward to, I despaired. I remember looking at my stories, both finished and unfinished, and thinking, “Oh no. I’m not a writer anymore.” And then I couldn’t write for a while.

I still had an obligation to finish a story, so I pushed through it. I wrote the novelette. It took about 3 times longer than it should have, but I finished it, and it was the most painful writing experience I’ve ever gone through. The story is fine, I think. There is a lot of truth in it, even though it’s about an Air Force squadron fighting fairies and dragons. By force of will, I got through that struggle, and I paid the price for the effort for the next 6 months to a year.

Here’s the thing about writing struggles: you don’t have control over everything, and it’s vital to identify those things that are outside your grasp. I could not control the pandemic. I have no sway over the publishing industry. Not every story I write will please every reader. There are only so many hours in a day.

Once you identify the things you cannot change or control, you then turn and look at the things you can affect. The pandemic may have closed some opportunities for me, but I still had the ability to work on other stories and be ready for the next potential break. I don’t have any influence over the publishing industry, but I can control how often I submit my stories, and I can choose who to submit to and when. I may not please every reader, but I can write stories that please myself.

This month, I set a goal to write 31 posts in 31 days, because I wanted to celebrate keeping this blog open for 10 years. I also wanted to talk about the release of The Repossessed Ghost in an organic way. And also, writing blog posts is easy, while at the moment, working on fiction is hard.

Sometimes the way through dealing with writing struggles is to forgive yourself and give yourself some room to heal and breathe. That’s what I did yesterday, basically. Saturday was a great day in San Francisco, and I walked more than I’ve walked in months, which meant that Sunday I needed to sleep in, watch some mindless videos, and play some video games with my friends.

I think I can still write 31 posts this month. I just need to double post on a couple days. If I do that, things will be fine. Even if I don’t do that, things will be fine. This is another mechanism for dealing with writing struggles: in the face of things outside your control, reevaluate your goals and adjust accordingly.

As I write this, I’m sitting on a train bound for Richmond, CA. When I get there I will switch to the BART and go the rest of the way into San Francisco. I’m doing this as part of a Shut Up and Write group, which is a great way to introduce today’s topic.

Shut Up and Write is a somewhat organic group where writers of all types can get together and do what the name says. There is a larger, over-arching organization to it, but for the most part, it’s managed at the cellular level. Regional leaders and hosts set up sessions, and meetup.com is used to manage times and locations. It’s been going for a long time, and it, or something like it, will continue for a long time more.

I’m not sure how to classify this type of group. There are others like it: headless, wide-spread, generalized groups of writers that are basically providing a platform and excuse for strangers to get together and form temporary or long-term writing groups. Let’s give these types of groups and communities a name: Space Monkeys. I’m choosing this name because the way these groups operate at the lowest level reminds me of Fight Club.

The Pros of Space Monkeys

They are eternal. They are everywhere. They are very general. Whatever you write, it’s okay. You’ll fit in. You might even find other people that also enjoy what you write. Space Monkeys are a great way to meet other writers, and it’s low risk, and low commitment.

The Cons of Space Monkeys

If you’re looking for feedback, you’re not likely to find it with the Space Monkeys. At least, not at first. It’s possible that you and some other Space Monkeys might get together and form a different type of group, but that’s not what it is to be a Space Monkey. When you go to Shut Up and Write, you’re there to shut up and write. In general, Space Monkeys foster shallow connections, and it’s possible you can wind up in a group of writers that have very little in common with you, other than you’re all putting words on a page.

Is NaNoWriMo a Space Monkey Group?

I think that with the way I’ve described these groups, NaNoWriMo is a seasonal Space Monkey. There is a corporate head at the top that makes money off of merchandising, but the sessions themselves are managed at the lowest level by volunteers. It counts in all the ways I described before, with the same pros and cons. It has an additional con of being once or twice a year.

Let’s shift gears and talk about another type of writing community that I don’t see many people talk about. This community appears on social media platforms, such as Twitter, and is less structured than the previous type of community (I don’t want to say Space Monkey again, because I’ve already said that so many times). To really talk about these other communities, we have to comment on Twitter and what a cesspool it is. Groups of writers find each other amidst all the chaos and cat videos and political firestorms. When they find each other, they’ll take to specific hashtags or long threads, and then prosper in spite of everything else going on around them. Let’s give this type of group a fun name, too: Lifeboats.

Pros of Lifeboats

Lifeboats save lives, and these communities act as a shelter in the storm. You can form deep, lasting connections with the other people in your Lifeboat. The people within a Lifeboat tend to create their own vernacular, which looks like inside jokes to people on the outside, but they convey more than just humor. Lifeboats can (and honestly should) convert into other types of groups.

Cons of Lifeboats

The Lifeboat exists in spite of the platform it exists on, so when the platform changes, the Lifeboat can take on water and sink. Lifeboats tend not to last very long. If a Lifeboat lasts more than a couple of years, it’s kind of a miracle.

Lifeboats exist because of the enthusiasm of the people involved. Sometimes, it’s just a handful of people keeping the party going, and when they burn out or get swept up in other matters, the Lifeboat can stop serving its purpose and quietly go away.

More Thoughts on Lifeboats

I have spoke before of WriteFightGifClub on Twitter, which is (or arguably was) a Lifeboat. There is a branch of it on Discord, but a lot of the personalities that gave the group energy have moved on. Also, Twitter has become even worse.

These kinds of groups are more common than one might think. I remember meeting other writers on City of Heroes and World of Warcraft. We were writing short stories featuring our characters and sharing them with each other. These are like tiny Lifeboats that come and go in a blink.

I still haven’t talked about traditional writing communities or writing groups And to that I say: why start now? There is another type of writing community I want to talk about and name. The name for this group shall be: The Disciples.

The Disciples are writing communities that form around another writer, or a group of writers. The head of the community generally has a force of personality, and puts a great deal of effort into cultivating and growing the community. Examples of this type of writing community include Writing Excuses and Gallowglas Army.

Pros of The Disciples

Writers that are Disciples have a common interest, which is the podcast or personality that brought them together in the first place. Disciples can form deep, personal connections, and because of the common interest, they often come together for focused activities, similar to the Space Monkeys.

The Disciples often have many of the properties of other, more conventional writing groups, in that they can provide and receive feedback.

Cons of The Disciples

When the head of the group goes away, so does the group. There would be no Gallowglas Army without Michael Gallowglas. There would be no Writing Excuses community without the hosts of the podcast. Writing Excuses is trying to give the community a longer lifespan by bringing in new hosts, but that approach doesn’t work for every Disciple group.

More Thoughts on The Disciples

These are some of my favorite groups, partly because another common interest within these groups is a huge desire to improve their craft. Michael, Mary Robinette, Dan, and Howard all give master classes on writing. While all of us have different paths as writers, the people I just mentioned have reached high points on their path and are able to offer pointers to those of us that aren’t quite as far along.

Traditional Writing Groups and Communities

I don’t have fancy names for these groupings. There are critique partners, critique groups, and writing groups. Rather than break them into pros and cons, I’ll just describe them and provide hints for how to make them successful.

Critique Partners

This is the smallest group, with the deepest connection. I usually see these as pairs, but people can have more than one critique partner. If there are more than two people trading manuscripts and critiques, then it’s probably more of a critique group, which I’ll talk about in a moment.

I’ve never had a critique partner, though I have wanted one for a long time. You and your ideal critique partner should both be writing at the same level, with roughly the same level of output. You do not have to write in the same genre, though you should be fans of each other’s work.

A good critique partner is a few inches away from being a writing partner, when it’s done right. You need to have a good enough relationship and enough honesty between each other that bad news can be shared right along with the good. A good critique partner should be able to help you be the best writer you can be without being cruel.

The relationship between a writer and an editor can be like this, though that’s a more one-sided relationship. Again, your critique partner should be someone that is at roughly the same place as you on their writing journey, and you should both be heavily invested in trying to make each other excel.

Critique Groups

If critique partners are like a marriage, critique groups are like a family. Critique groups function by keeping all of its members fed with what they need. Critique groups are comprised of three or more people, and they read each other’s work, and provide valuable criticism.

The members of a critique group do not all have to be at the same level or place in their journey, and they do not need to all be writing in the same genre. If we’re being honest, not everyone in a critique group needs to be a writer. However, everyone involved in the group should have some level of appetite for the things the writers are submitting.

I have been in many critique groups, and I am currently in one now. The first group broke apart because we didn’t know how to provide valuable critiques, and we weren’t all getting what we needed from the group. The second group dissolved when the main person hosting it disappeared due to some tragic medical issue (they’re fine, now). The third group is still going, just without me; I couldn’t stand most of the stories I was required to read, and I wound up leaving. I was not a good fit in the fourth group, either; everyone else was mostly writing YA, and since I don’t read much YA, my critiques were of very little value.

The fifth group has been a good fit, so far. We’ve been going for about 3 years now, and we all get along. I like the stories I’m reading. We have a lot of mutual respect. It is very functional.

It may not take you five groups before you find the right one. I’m an odd duck, and a bit of an asshole, sometimes. If I can find a group, anyone can. You just have to keep looking.

Writing Groups

Writing groups are very similar to critique groups, just a little bit more relaxed. Critique groups are generally about the writers helping each other gain perspective on their work. Writing groups can do that, too, but they’re mostly there to provide encouragement and support so that writers can actually write.

All of the groups I’ve described on this page could be called a writer’s group, just like you can refer to a lion or a tiger as a cat. Writing groups can come in any shape or size, and they can have differing goals from each other. If you’re in a writing group and it works for you, you’re doing something right. If you’re in a writing group and it is consistently bringing you down or not giving you need, you should find a different group.

With all writing groups, determine what you want from the group in advance, then communicate it with your group. You can save everyone a lot of time and pain just by identifying problems before they arise. It is not a bad thing to leave a group before it does you or someone else harm. The tragedy would be to stay in a group that is routinely discouraging you and keeping you from writing and improving your craft.

That is all I have to say about writing groups and communities. If I’ve left out any important groups, let me know.