Chapter 6 is Live

Sorry about the very long wait on this one.  A few things have been going on, my daughter was born recently for one (which was wonderful).  But now I'm back and writing again.  This newest chapter I whipped up in just a couple days, which is nice since it usually takes me a full week.

I've been very pleased with the rewrites for this novel.  It seems a lot more grown up.  It takes itself more seriously now, but in a good way.  This is really the first time we see Randy in any detail.  The first time I created this character, I'd simply just been planning to kill him off in a later scene.  But Randy survived that scene.  It surprised me how savvy he was.  I also came to like the little guy despite his sillyness and childish flaws.

It seems that as the stories go, Randy becomes a stronger and more capable character, really stepping into the role of monster hunter.  But it's whether or not this shift in attitude changes his character that remains to be seen.

Follow this link to see the newest chapter:

http://hiredgunnovel.blogspot.com/

Happy Friday

Chapters 4 and 5 have dropped on my new blog.  Hit the link below to check them out.

http://hiredgunnovel.blogspot.com/2016/05/chapter-5.html

Actually, why does everything drop these days?  Remember when the only that dropped was balls?  Get your mind out of the gutter, I was talking about News Years.  Used to be that only rap albums dropped and every thing else either got released or just came out.  But I guess saying that something has dropped makes it sound a bit more dramatic than: I have recently pasted about 2000 words of fiction from my word processor into a blog post and have clicked Publish afterward.  Not dramatic at all.

So, these two chapters see the introduction of Cynthia and Randy, two characters who seem very popular among my many and diverse fans (just my writer's group consisting of four people including myself).  It's been really fun to redo these scenes and watch them turn into something more grown up.  The new prose really change the story into something comfortable that takes itself seriously.  I like it.

Another Friday, Another Chapter

Chapter 3 of Hired Gun has officially gone live.  So far, I've been getting a really strong positive response.  This book is really blowing up.  Tons of new views on the new blog, which is cool.

I feel like Chapter 3 is where the story really starts to develop.  You get to see Jason as a troubled hero with a difficult line of work, and he struggles with feeling that his efforts have little impact.  Something I always tried to come back to while writing this book was that Jason Ingram is a man.  Nothing more.  Not Superman.  Not Batman.  Just a regular dude who does some really interesting stuff.

Urban fantasy seems to be a genre plagued with wizards, summoners, half-demons, half-fairies, gargoyles (as heroes!), vampires--you freaking name it, and some UF hero is one.  That was tempting for me to fall into at first.  I'd been planning to make Jason a faith-based hero, like a paladin or a cleric.  But the more I wrote from his voice, the more I discovered that his plainness is what makes him special.  The fact that every job is a life-or-death struggle made me really care about him.  Anyway, I hope you like it.  Happy reading.  The new link is below.

http://hiredgunnovel.blogspot.com/2016/04/chapter-3.html

Friday Christmas

Chapter 2 of Hired Gun is officially live.  Cruise on over to the link in the last post if you'd like to read it.

I feel like Chapter 2 is stronger than the first one.  It introduces some of the book's main villains and really sets the stage for the finale.  Overall, I'm very happy with this chapter.  Wish they could all be Chapter 2.

I've been very careful about copy editing this story before I post it, but sometimes I goof up.  Eventually, when the story is finished, I will sweep over it one more time or hire someone else to do it.  Copy editing is a bit like putting up wallpaper.  Just as soon as you get it all nice and smooth in one spot, you notice another that that's falling apart.  Happy reading.

Hired Gun Is Now Live...Sort Of

I'm still working deep rewrites and revisions on my first Urban Fantasy novel Hired Gun.  It still has a ways to go before I start submitting it around to agents or putting it on Amazon, or whatever.  But I feel confident that the new stuff tells the story nicely.  So, having decided that this project needed to somehow get off the ground, I've created a new blog for it.

Hired Gun: A Free, Action-Packed Urban Fantasy Novel

http://hiredgunnovel.blogspot.com/

Tune in every Friday for a new chapter.

You can follow the above link to read the first chapter, or you could always wait a few weeks for the chapters to build up.  My target will be Fridays, but I'll also post here when I make a new chapter live.  Some people have asked me about adding a Donate button to the new blog, but I'm not exactly sure about that just yet.  I feel like this book is for fun and there shouldn't be any tip jar leering at you while you enjoy it.

It's not really publication, it's more like blogulation.  It's like publication but there's no money in it.  Wait--it's exactly like publication.

The plan is to finish revising this story and posting the new work this way until it's done.  Then, most likely, the blog will be taken down when I finally sell the story.  Of course, actually selling the story could take years so don't hold your breath.

Wrote a Short Story

I've recently made a submission to an anthology called Circuits and Slippers and I'm very excited about it.  Even if they don't accept my submission you should go check it out.  Not exactly sure on what form it'll be published in, but it's supposed to come out this September.

The anthology is going with the theme of traditional myths and fairy tales retold in scifi settings.  I thought it was pretty interesting.  So, I submitted a story based on the epic of Beowulf.  I'm actually pretty happy with the results.

I still have yet to find a home for Hired Gun, sadly.  But I guess that goes without saying.  Still no response from Jukepop, but I figure their editorial staff is probably bogged down with submissions anyway.  It seems like everyone wants to be a writer.

Not sure why, the pay is absolute shit.  I've been working for a little more than two years and I'm still in the hole five bucks.  Mostly, what I keep reading is that the biggest reward one gets from writing is getting to make something.  That's wonderful and all, but a couple wads of pocket cabbage wouldn't hurt, either.

Publication...Sort Of

You'll obviously note that I haven't been around much.  I'd like to make some very colorful excuses about this and that, and so on, but the truth is that very few people are reading.  The original purpose of this blog was to promote my self-publishing, which has been a wash.  Maybe, if I see a little pick up over the next year I'll pop in here again for news and updates and so forth, but I've been getting a lot more out an offline journal that I've writing in.

Sorry bizarre public platform where anyone can say anything, it was fun.

Moreover, I'd also like at least plug my story that will soon be appear on digital screens near you.  I've recently discovered Jukepop, an indie publisher for serial fiction that accepts novels published chapter by chapter.  My first book (now currently title Hired Gun) will appear totally free to read in the coming weeks.  Once it's fully revised and ready to be read, I'll go ahead and drop it on Amazon or something.  I've pretty much decided that the big publishers can bugger themselves.  You can't get in unless you're already in.  How the bloody hell does that work?

I read an article today about whether or not you can make money with your novel, and the frank answer was basically "No".  It was very well supported and largely true (at least it coincided with the research that I did).  Agents and publishers are really only seeking books that will sell over 50,000 copies a year.  Most books will only sell about a tenth of that.  Furthermore, they advise you to get your start by publishing short fiction, but guess what?  Those short story magazines want to sign stories from big-name authors that are already published, too.

So, how does a regular Joe Blow writing about magic and dragons get published?  You really just don't.  Or, if you do, you have to wait two to three years for it and you still live in obscurity.  Blows ass, I know.  Anyway, whole reason I came here was to drop a link for Jukepop and show off the new cover, so here goes that.

I'm actually pretty happy with this one.  Not bad for five bucks.  You can find the story on Jukepop here.

How NOT To Find An Agent

Looking for a literary agent is the most ass-backward thing that I've ever done.  It borders between idiotic and insane.  Let me explain how it works.

I'm Chumbo Newauthor.  I have written a book (with all the screaming and crying that goes with that) and now I want to get it published.  I have a couple options.  I can try to publish online, which works well for some people, but you don't make as much money that way.  I can try to send my book to publishers, which very few publishing houses still let you do.  Or I can seek an agent.  Most people start with the last option.

So, you take your shiny new book in hand.  In my case, a gritty crime-oriented urban fantasy novel, and you show it around to every agent you can find, right?  Well, there are a lot of genres and tastes out there, and just regular people, agents have very specific things that they're seeking (sometimes to the point that I'm like, dude, you should write that book you want).  So I start by filtering for folks who like fantasy.  That's a huge genre.  Anything that isn't real life is considered fantasy.  Occasionally, I find someone that says they want urban fantasy and I get excited, but usually, they just say most genres of fantasy (of which there are tons, remember).

Here's an analogy to represent just how dreadfully silly this process is.  Imagine if buying a car worked this way.  Rather than you going to a car lot where you can kick the tires and ask about cup holders, you put up a thing on Craig's list that says you want a car.  You don't leave a lot of details (something with four wheels and a rad stereo).  But, really, you have a very specific idea of what you want.  Now the people who have the cars bring them by your house.  After looking at literally hundreds of cars this way, people showing you what they want to sell rather than what you want to buy, a sale has still not been made.  You still don't have a car, and those poor car engineers still can't get their hunks of shiny metal sold to anyone.

I mention this because an odd thing happened to me while I was looking at agents today.  I saw this:

Chris Lotts
The Lotts Agency

*This agent accepts queries

*I handle adult science fiction and fantasy for the agency, and am currently interested in hard-edged, innovative crime novels and thrillers, paranormal and urban fantasy, and SF; strong commercial writing is the most important criteria.

My heart just about jumped into my throat.  Here was the first agent listing that I'd read (out of about 100 so far) that not only used the words "crime novels and thrillers" with the words "urban fantasy", they're actually in the same sentence!  However, when I clicked on the agent's website, the domain name didn't exist.  No way to tell if this was a real person patiently awaiting a manuscript just like mine, or some ghost of a posting from untold years ago that only leads down the internet's darkest and most forgotten back allies of obscurity.  I sent him an email anyway.

Writing Is Hard

Or rather, it should be hard.  It seems like a lot of people are under the impression that writing is "making up whatever crap you want and putting it down on paper".  Sure, maybe this is how many writers get started, but I would offer that good writers, who write something that sticks with you long after you read it, work really hard.

If you're a good science fiction writer, you might actually research some science (gasp).  If you're a good fantasy writer, you might learn about mythology and mysticism.  The level of work should reflect what your readers get out of it.

I've read stories that were obviously made up on the spot, and although some of them were good, none of them left me with a profound sense of...anything, really.  Let's consider Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert Heinlein.  It's funny, I actually just read a review of this book that really slammed it, but I suppose that reviewer was an idiot.  What can you do?

The book in question was written back in the 60s and took the author about ten year to write.  Part of this had to do with the political climate and some of the ideas that the book offered (not that they're all that racy these days).  But that's what I think a good book should offer: ideas.  Not necessarily rhetoric or religious in instruction (looking at you C S Lewis) but an idea or a feeling that resonates with its audience.  Is my writing there yet?  Since I'm being so judgy and all?  I don't really know.  I hope that one day it will be.

Coffee and Other Dark Rituals

Lately, I've been doing some research on the things that help one write fiction.  I've been researching them so that I can use them for myself, you see.  Most of the time, I sit down and get work done, but I can't help but think that I could get into that Writing Mode a little faster and more reliably.  My research has led me to a resounding conclusion that I'm sure I've put somewhere else on this blog already.  That is this: there is no perfect thing that works for everyone.

I've read about authors who actually wake up in the middle of the night and write for an hour before going back to bed.  Presumably, this is because the house is quiet and empty at these hours.  Not to mention dark, too.  Another author sits down in his study and works for twelve hours on as many different projects.  I've actually considered doing this.  Well, maybe not twelve books but two would be feasible.  I've definitely heard of authors who drown the surrounding noise with music.  Sometimes, they'll play the same song over and over because it captures a certain mood.

For me, it's coffee and comparable silence throughout the house and absolute solitude.  If I could figure out how to write inside of a black hole, I probably would.  It'd be the perfect place.  Of course, the black hole would draw my coffee in molecule by molecule until it was crushed to oblivion.  That would suck.

Live: From the Batcave

The fortress in the living room worked out really well yesterday.  I think it's going to be part of my daily routine, which, by the way, will be a little different this year because my shift at work is changing.  I'll get to stay at home for a full extra hour in the morning.  What's that mean?  Writing time.  I like it.

So far, my only goal for Broken Promises is to finish it sooner than my last novel.  However, I noticed that last year the more I set myself deadlines, the more I missed them.  So, this year, no deadlines.  Maybe forecasts or tentative finish lines but that's it.

I hate to admit this, but I really need to see something move on my last novel.  So far, no agents are interested.  I know this part of the plan takes time (a lot of time, probably a number of years) but I'm really the kind of person that needs to see some success.  That's not to say that I'd quit writing if it never made me any money, I'd probably just do it a lot less.  I see some of these other books that get published, and they're not bad but they're also not good, and I wonder how they get on the shelf.  I mean, seriously, it's a really competitive market.  Every agent is looking for a huge payday, the next Da Vinci Code (or whatever else has been popular) and I'm not convinced that this book is it.

Yup, just knocked my own stuff.  I like my book, mind you, that's why I wrote it, but I don't see legions of fans in my future.  Maybe just a few sweaty nerds in basements, and I get that it's going to be a tough sell.

Lately, I've been thinking about my writing career in the more abstract sense, what I want it to be rather than I want to do.  I considered crafting a non sci-fi book that was more intended for a mainstream audience, but I came to a realization.  That's just not what I want to make.  If it was solely about success and money, I'd probably be training to do tech support.  Doing what you want is way more important, even if it never takes you anywhere.  I want to write sci-fi/fantasy, and I don't care if it's never that popular.

Absolute Solitude

The time has finally come for me to begin serious work on my second novel.  Nope, the first one hasn't sold yet, but that's fine.  Books don't get published overnight.  This book is tentatively titled: Broken Promises and will (hopefully) see some new characters and some interesting developments on some old ones.  No spoilers here.

The only problem is this: whatever little hamster that runs the wheel in my head has been unresponsive the last few days.  I threw some coffee in there to wake the little guy up, but I think he may be trying to go on strike.  Something about unfair working conditions, I think.  Whatever the cause, when I sit down to put some cool stuff into my word processor, the whole machine stops and fingertips just hover over the keyboard.  It is for this reason that I've built a fort in the living room.

That's right.  My computer is out here, which is cool, but I have little to no privacy.  Particularly from my dog.  Every time I sit on the carpet and grab my keyboard, he thinks its an invite to play.  Puts his nose right in my face until I can't ignore him any longer.  So, with this in mind, I restructured my couch (which is sort of a tetrisy number) to block the little guy out for a while.  Only people with legs and opposable thumbs can enter the small space in front of my computer now.  It seems to be working.

Much like Superman in the Fortress of Solitude--no, wait.  Much like Batman in the Batcave, I will now get some bloody work done.

Head. Hit. Keyboard.

I hate looking for stupid literary agents.  What a pain in the ass.  Just a few days ago, I sent out my second wave of queries to potential agents.  So far, I've sent thirteen queries all together and have received two rejections.  One of those was sent to me the next day.  Gotta give that guy credit for being on it, though.  I know that rejections aren't supposed to be a big deal, I guess I just wish it wasn't so much work.

I did find some suggestions to meet agents at writer's conferences (of which there are several throughout the year), but most of them are on the East Coast or so far south in California that the street names start reading like the menu in a Mexican restaurant.  I did manage to run one down in Portland, the Willamette Writer's Conference in August, but just to go a single day, the admission is 250 bucks.  The whole weekend is about 450.

Still, I carry on.  Just keep working, I tell myself.  Lately, I've been thinking about adding a few more titles to my self-publishing catalog.  Not because I think it would make any money, but because it's something that I could have some control over.  I think that's probably the worst part of the whole agent thing.  Not having any control over the matter.  Having to sit here and bite my fingernails for weeks on end.

This Racket Again

Writing is a tough-ass hobby.  And I'm pretty sure it's not something that people just say.  Like you'll catch a cold if you stand in the rain too long (not true, the reason we get sick when the weather's cold is because we spend more time indoors, close to other people).  Or, if you make that face it'll get stuck that way (this one goes without saying, but there is evidence to show that holding a particular expression a lot can make your face look like it all the time).  Or maybe the numerous things that people say about sitting too close to electronics (most of which aren't true).

But for reals, writing really is hard.  I mention this, not only because I've started writing again, but also because a friend of mine has been talking about starting a novel.  Finally, this last week, he did it.  After he wrote his first 400 words (a page and a quarter) he had this, of all things, to say: writing is hard.  Just like that.  It was great, at least for me, you know, I've been there.  The nice thing about writing is that it's more of a craft, I think.  The more you do it, the better you get at it.  Some may disagree with me and that's fine, I have a special, round file on the floor where they can lodge any complaints.

I don't usually consider myself artistic.  In fact, I usually run in terror at the thought of sketching or painting something.  I even have a hard time coordinating colors for an outfit.  But I can write.  Always been good with words, at least, better than with paints and such.  I think that's because there's more of a process to it.  You can't always follow the process perfectly, mind you, that's part of the process, knowing when to chuck it out.  Wait.  This is sounding kind of arty.

New declaration: writing is whatever you want it to be.

Agent Me An Agent, Please

I wish I could hire an agent to find me an agent.  This part is a pain in the ass.

I've taken the advice of more than one article telling me to research books like mine and query the agents that represented them.  That's great and all, but I did that and was only able to query two agents.  Some books didn't say who represented them and others acknowledged agents that I couldn't find or that were closed for submissions.  Today I found a listing for agents that say they represent fiction and I went to their websites to query them.  Of that giant list, only a half-dozen agents even consider fiction and many of them explicitly don't represent science fiction or fantasy.

I started to ask myself, "How do these books even get on the shelf?" There's certainly no shortage of them every year.  I mean, seriously, the sci-fi section at Fred Meyer is huge.  Of course the romance section is twice the size.

I finally whittled down that group of agents to those that accepted fantasy and said that they were interested in urban fantasy.  A total of three agents that will likely reject my submission.  In all, I've queried five agents and will have to wait six to twelve weeks for their responses.  Not a typo.  Six to twelve.  And they'll only respond if they're interested.  Seriously, how do people do this?

Titling Titles Tidily

Revising went smoothly today.  Mostly, I was just gliding through and patting myself on the back.  It feels good to finally be going through the writing that I really like.  But it's probably sad that it's 90% through the book until you reach it.

I'm still considering whether or not I need a new title.  Lost Lamb has been the working title, but I'm starting to worry that it's too cliché.  See that?  I know how to make one of those in Windows.  The little E with the doohicky over it.  Résumé.  Ha.  Anyway, I really want this book to stand out, and I know that I tend to sort them by title and decide whether or not I'll even bother with the first page.  Here are some that I'd probably pass up.

Dragon Strippers
Vikings on Motorcycles
The New Tales of Merlin in San Fransisco
Chumbo And The Giant Fangaly Beast

You get the idea.  We judge heavily based on the title.  And, while I understand that my publisher can choose to change the title, I really want to come up with the right one.  But shit, maybe I already have.  Who knows?  Maybe I've just been looking at it for over a year and am now hating it.  Yeah, that's right, been working on this crazy thing for 12 full months.  Think I've lost the exact date, but I've been doing serious work on it since early May of last year.  I actually wrote the first chapter as an experiment back in February before that.

Anyway, thank god or whoever that its done.  I'm really looking forward to working on something else.  Anything else, really.

The Attack Of The Mutant Alien Query Letter

And then, as he sat down to revise the last little bit of his novel, he realized that he still had to write his query letter.  The one thing that every agent and editor would expect him to be able to do.  Dammit.  He bit his lip.  That last little piece was still dangling and he still had no idea what to do with it.

Maybe he could include a sticky note.  Something heartfelt that would assure agents that yes, he was a real person with a real novel and not some plagiarizing yahoo.  Perhaps it would read, "Hey!  I'm Steve and this is my novel.  Hope you like it.  P.S. I am a real person and not an alien from Xanthu 4.  Please take me seriously."  Yeah.  That might not work.  Even aliens have sticky notes.

His next idea was a photo of himself sitting at his keyboard.  Cup of coffee in hand.  Black-rimmed glasses and copy of War and Piece to look smart.  Surely, that would prove to them...something.  What were they even looking for anyway?  And what would they do if he didn't have a query letter?  Do the literary people employ a secret police force?  Some Black Water-esque band of trigger-happy crazies?  Maybe they hunt down other offenders, too.  Make them put commas and hyphens in the right spot or else, dammit.  Capitalize that sentence or I'll get angry.  Now use proper grammar in your dialogue too, buddy.

He flinched away from the keyboard.  Maybe this was his last chance to leave the country before the Literary Police caught on.  He'd been a bad bad writer after all.  Being all willy-nilly with commas and sentence structures.  Leaving fragments dangling out in the open like that.  Frequently using made up words like he was different from other writers.  Sheesh.

It wasn't too late yet.  He could still charter a boat and take his typewriter to some other country that didn't have query letters and agents, or all the long series of tiring, hair-ripping, nail-biting hoops he had to jump through to get meaningfully published.  Maybe some place in the mountains between Spain and India.  Come to think of it, he didn't think those countries were next to each other.  He'd have to brush up on his geography.  But there would plenty of time for that in the mountains of wherever.  Yes, that was where he would go.  The mountains.  They'd never find him there.

Finish Line Redux

Now that I'm FINALLY reaching the end of revisions, I'm actually starting to feel pretty good about this novel.  I'm really getting exciting about writing the next one, too.  I hope people like these books.  I guess that's what I worry about the most.  I really felt like no one actually read my last story.  Most of the people I know who bought it, did so because they thought they were helping me and never actually read the thing.  Yeah.  It sucked.  So, my only goal for this book was to reach a larger audience and make a more accessible final piece.

My research indicated that, although ebook sales have been steadily rising, 75% of all book sales still happen in a bookstore.  Most people prefer to read a book on paper, myself included.  I also wrote this book in a more popular and successful genre that's continuing crank out new entries every year.  Of course, that's not really the reason I chose to write this book.  I started the idea because of my own frustration with finding a good Urban Fantasy series outside of the Dresden Files.  Well, not just good, but also not drenched with hardcore love-making scenes and friendly, misunderstood monsters.  So, with those rules and ideas wadded up in my hand, I thought I'd write a book.

That's where Lost Lamb came from.

In some ways, I think this story has nothing to do with me as a person.  I've never shot at orcs or been friends with any cute, lady wizards.  But, in another way, the story is me.  I was thinking about it the other day.  I went to great length to make Jason Ingram different from myself.  I didn't want a more athletic, kick-ass version of myself.  Looking at you, Laurel K. Hamilton (just teasing).  I gave Jason a dark side and a weakness for rage.  Not just passionate anger that makes you punch a hole in the wall.  Jason's vice is that kind of rage that swells out of your gut like a ball of lava.  That intelligent, honed hatred that you form into the keenest weapon you can until you can plunge it where it'll do the most damage.  Wrath, you could call it.

As you may have guessed, this is based on firsthand experience.  When I was younger, I had a lot of anger problems.  Pretty bad ones, too.  I went through all kinds of different support methods.  Counseling.  Prayer (back when I was religious).  Meditation.  Most of it didn't work for me.  Finally, when I was fifteen, I took a karate class.  That did it.  Physical exertion put me in control of how I felt and gave me a positive outlet.  I had to do something with my anger.  Just like Jason.

If a thought is a jewel, no matter how much we work on it and add facets to make it special and different, each surface is a tiny mirror reflecting its maker.

Mostly, This One Is About Me Bitching About Stuff

Lately, I've been feeling some hesitance about revising my novel.  I'm not really sure where it's coming from, but I'm noticing the tendency to open the word document and stare blankly at it whilst smacking myself with the keyboard.  Regardless, coming here and blabbing into the infinite space of the internet has been helping me get the crazies out of my head before I get to work.

I had been envisioning some perfect world where I didn't have to continue this therapy, but such a world only exists in fantasy.  My head is crazy.  That's just something I have to accept, and even five, six years done the road, my head will still be crazy.

At least I can keep most of it stoppered in there, right?  I don't go around chanting or rapping to myself.  I saw a guy last week walking down the same road as me and he reading aloud from the dictionary.  Well, shouting aloud from it anyway.  When I was walking by he was only on the Ds and was going on about government terms.  Democracy, I think.  Dude needs a blog.

Ha.  Let's see if my blog gets flagged now for political speech.  Wouldn't mind the extra traffic.

Fiction Writers Mantra

For some reason, our first attempts to do something don't turn out as well as they could have.  Why is that?  When shooting, the first shot on the range is a cold shot that will most likely not hit its target.  When you cook a crepe on a heated pan, the first one turns a little too hard and rubbery to serve.  The first novels of a series tend to be the weakest of the bunch.  Of course, there's always the reverse tendency.  The first movie is always the best one, but maybe that's the exception that proves the rule.

Were the other ones really as good?

It's funny that I just wrote that.  I've always hated that saying.  It suggests that rules can be proven.  They can't.  There are no rules or measurements or standards other than the ones of our own making.  Do you think time cares how many seconds are passing?  The universe is 13.8 billion years old.  No.  Time don't give a crap.

How miles you think that is?

Not the point.  The first doohickey is usually the crappier of the group.  Much of my life (at least what I spent in school) I tried my damnedest to do things right the first time.  Solve the math problem without checking my work.  Write the final draft of the paper without the rough draft.  Most of the time it worked out, too.  But that doesn't always cut the mustard (what does that even mean?).  Sometimes you really need the cold shot.  The dry run.  The test that tells you if everything you've painstakingly put together is going to hold up to what you're going to do with it.

Doesn't it seem more efficient to do it like one of my school papers?  My teachers were always impressed.  But ultimately, I guess now I just really want to make the best possible thing I can.  Especially when it's something you care about.  You don't just wake up one day and knock it out before coffee and toast.  But all that takes work, don't it?  And god, we hate work!  I think that 9 out of 10 people probably have wonderful ideas for novels but won't write them because it's too much work.  I know it for a fact, actually.

If you are one of those people, I have an excellent piece of advice for you.  I've been working on it.  Where's the caps lock...THERE.  JUST FUCKING DO IT ALREADY.  Yes.  Writing is work.  So is breathing, so is thinking, so is blinking.  You're not going to stop doing those things are you?  Didn't think so.  Whatever it takes to get you started, just refer to that mantra in all caps.  Print it on a shirt or something.