Tag Archives: writing

Standard

Posted by

Posted on

October 16, 2018

Posted under

God, Life, My Writing, Uh, This is Random, Writing

Comments

6 Comments

When Inspiration Doesn’t Strike

*insert swanky post preface that gets you jazzed for the rest of this post*

when inspiration doesn't strike.jpg

I considered announcing that I would be taking the rest of 2018 off when it comes to blogging. In other words, I’d quit Penprints until January 2019.

Because by January 2019, life will have settled down.

Or so I told myself as I looked at my list of blog post ideas with no interest in any of them (no, not even that Deep Work one I keep saying I want to write).

Here’s the deal. I know life will not “settle down” by January 2019. In fact, in lots of ways, it will be crazier than ever.

So why would I quit blogging for two and a half months?

Because I’m tired. Because my creativity is dwindling, and I want to channel what creativity I have to my novel-writing. Because I’m not inspired.

My life is not super hectic right now. There are occasional flares of craziness, but overall, it isn’t too stressful (but as we all know, my stress threshold is not high). The issue is a mixture of being lazy, mentally and emotionally burned out, and creatively worn out.

I’ve been on the edge of burnout on all fronts all year.

Jesus has been very gracious to me, and he’s arranged for events, trips, and people to be like defibrillators to me. He has been very good to me, so this isn’t a complaint against him. This is just honesty about how I’ve been fumbling around trying to figure out if I’m doing too much or not enough.

I know that a lot of it is my fault—it is me not being wise with my time, it is me sometimes simply not doing the work because I don’t want to (on all the theaters of war here, people—intense Bible study, my novels, my relationships, etc.), it is me digging myself deeper into a hole.

I’ve just not been feeling it. And by “it” I mean inspiration. It has not been striking, and so I haven’t been doing as much doing.

Creative work is tricky—you can’t force or fake it, and sometimes you do have to quit for a bit to rest and recuperate. Usually, however, you still have enough energy to create something. Usually, the creativity isn’t the problem. Usually, inspiration is the problem.

Inspiration is as reliable as feelings, friends (which, in case you weren’t sure, are super unreliable). That’s all there is to it.

Inspiration comes. And then inspiration goes. And then inspiration goes missing. And then inspiration is presumed dead. And then suddenly, inspiration has a resurrection. But then inspiration might run away to join the circus.

And where does that leave us? Without inspiration.

The big question is: what will we do when inspiration does not strike?

Will we do a rain dance, hoping it will return? Will we scroll through Pinterest for an hour searching for it? Will we take a nap to escape the reality that it might never come back? Will we let a blank screen crush the life out of us?

Do we quit the blog for two months? Do we shelve the novel until further notice? Do we close the sketchbook for weeks? Do we leave the song unfinished?

Do we take a break? Push it off until tomorrow? Take the path of least resistance?

Or, will we keep going, inspiration or not?

Here’s the deal: forget inspiration.

Just screw it. Screw feelings too, for that matter. Forget hype and positivity.

Life is chaos. It will never “settle down.”

Inspiration is flaky. We will never nail it down.

When life is chaos, do it anyway. When inspiration doesn’t strike, do it anyway. When you’re tired, do it anyway. When you want to be lazy, do it anyway. When your emotions are on a loop, do it anyway.

Exercise wisdom about what is important. Exercise wisdom in when you actually need breaks. (And if you don’t have wisdom, start walking with the wise and get wisdom.)

But, as a general rule, do it anyway.

Write the book. Craft the blog post. Paint the picture. Hang the drywall. Edit the story. Finish the song. Draw the comic.

Carve out the time to cultivate your creativity, but do not bow to inspiration.

I write this post because I have been working on the second draft of False Gods since April, and I’m not even halfway through it.

April, people. April.

In case you didn’t read that right: APRIL.

Part of this because I am simply slow. Part of it is because it’s taken this long to get some things ironed out/developed in my head. And part of it is because I’ve waited for inspiration to show up instead of cultivating discipline and creativity.

So here I am with fifteen days until NaNoWriMo, not sure if I’ll be drafting something new or working on what I drafted during NaNoWriMo 2017.

What do you do when inspiration doesn’t strike? Do you find you are emotion/inspiration-driven? Or are you discipline/logic-driven?

With love,

Rosalie

p.s. – a post about cultivating creativity is coming to a Penprints near you in the near future.

p.p.s. – if you haven’t already signed up for the cover reveal of my sci-fi flash fiction collection (Stars and Soul), there’s still time!

Standard

Posted by

Posted on

July 30, 2018

Posted under

God, Writers Life, Writing

Comments

7 Comments

Realm Makers 2018 Recap [highlights and takeaways]

Ever since I went to Realm Makers in 2015, I’ve wanted to go back, and this was finally the year.

For those of you who don’t know, Realm Makers is a unique conference for Christian writers who love speculative fiction. And speculative fiction is an umbrella term used to encompass science fiction, fantasy, and all their subgenres. Basically—weird and fantastical stories.

So today on Penprints, we’re going to do a quick recap on Realm Makers 2018. (Spoiler alert: I lied; this won’t be quick.)

rm recap.jpg

Overview

I drove down to St. Louis for the conference Wednesday, and Realm Makers itself ran Thursday through Saturday, and then I drove home. That’s the super quick overview. :)

Favorite Moments

When Katie Grace and Jaye L. Knight showed up at my house Tuesday night so we could all drive down to St. Louis together.

When Katie, Jaye, and I walked into the hotel, and Jeneca Zody pounced on us.

Laying in bed Friday night, listening to Katie’s song for her novel Where Shadows Lie.

Seeing Kara Swanson come up a flight of stairs and hugging her for the first time.

That time we all got cult tattoos (okay, so they were just temporary tattoos to help promote Morgan Busse’s forthcoming release, Mark of the Raven, but they were black raven silhouettes, and they looked like we had all just been initiated into a real intense cult/gang).

Seeing Nadine Brandes for the first time in forever, baby bump and all!

Eating strange St. Louis style pizza with Jeneca, Katie, and Jaye.

Every time Katie and Ashely Townsend would *boop* each other on the nose.

Spending an hour or more in the hotel’s clocktower with Jeneca and Katie, talking about life and stories and this past year and the future.

Grabbing a dirty chai from Starbucks and then running into Gillian Bronte Adams and then chatting with her (!!!!!!!!) for like twenty minutes about our stories.

Hanging out with the other Ninjas (Nadine’s street team) and Mad Hatters (Mary Weber’s street team) over tacos.

Every time Stephanie Warner swept by in all her elegance with a little mischievous wink and smile.

Seeing Savannah Grace for the first time in person (knowing her over the internet had not prepared me for how much she is in person).

Every little random detail that would crop up about Jeneca, each proving that she was one of the most interesting people there (writes dystopian, was Alice in an Alice in Wonderland play and still sometimes quotes it with a British accent, took a train and bus to get to Realm Makers all by her lonesome with all her stuff for the weekend in two little backpacks, makes stunning art in this little notebook in her pack, isn’t afraid of a lot of espresso, had an Etsy shop when she was fifteen—before Etsy was cool—plus she sews, and a whole bunch of other things that kept coming up every time I turned around).

Tosca Lee signing my copy of Havah.

Watching Katie try to wake up in the morning (it was always a process until we got some coffee in her).

When my story, That Last Breath, was read and critiqued live on Thursday night (I gasped so loud when they started reading it; nearly died; my mind was blown).

Drinking in the prose from Kira Thomas’s short story that was read and critiqued live on Thursday night. It was easily the best story, and you’ll find it in the January 2019 issue of Havok.

Nearly every word that came out of Ashley Townsend’s mouth.

Ashley giving Katie a piggy back ride.

Hearing truth from Allen Arnold about God and creativity.

Hearing truth from Tosca Lee about God and creativity.

Four of us gathered around Ashley after the costume dinner, helping her out of all the tiny little braids and metal coils in her hair while she sat on the ground with her ultra-intense Viking eyeliner smudged under her eyes.

Katie, Jeneca, and me sitting down with the Serenity crew at the costume dinner… and then Katie and I simultaneously sniffing the brown liquid in our cups to figure out what it was… because neither of us wanted to taste it until we had a notion of what it was? (It was tea, apparently, and fairly odorless.)

Sitting with Lindsay A. Franklin during our mentor appointment and talking about stories.

Meeting Kayla St. Arbor on the last night, learning what a burnt cookie is (and that I am one), and finding out she’s an INFP Hufflepuff like me.

And there were hundreds of other moments and people that made it so good: Schuyler, Liz, Mary, Heidi, Jason, Josh, JJ, Brittany, Avily, Sierra, Tricia, Kensi, Kira, Carrie-Anne, Tracey, Audrey, Brianna, Lillian, Gretchen, Laura, Bethany, Emily, Tina, Ruthie, Rolena, April, and many more. <3

Takeaways

As with my recap of The Gospel Coalition Women’s Conference, these takeaways are paraphrased, with the speaker in parentheses at the end.

Novel writing is a thing you learn by writing novels. (Tosca Lee)

creativity audaciousCreativity is meant to be audacious. (Tosca Lee)

We are not made to write stories and then die; we are made to love God and others well (which sometimes includes writing stories and then dying). (Mary Weber)

To write a great book you cannot please everyone. (Tosca Lee)

You need to be aware that you are being judged. But you need not be concerned about the judgements being made. (Tosca Lee)

Perfectionism is where nothing happens. (Tosca Lee)

An artist’s best work comes not from comfort but from the limitations and chaos of life. (Allen Arnold)

God doesn’t create “Christian” things; he creates trueness. (Allen Arnold)

You can’t tell a better story than you’re living. (Allen Arnold)

wildly unbalancedLive a wildly unbalanced life for what matters most. (Allen Arnold)

Free yourself from the lie that there is not enough time. (Allen Arnold)

Self-doubt can be a good thing because it means you’re still growing and learning. (Steve Laube)

The Pitching Appointment Situation

On a slightly different note, my pitching appointments both went very well—better than I had hoped.  I pitched to two agents, and neither of them said my idea (aka: False Gods) was an awful idea! Which is what I was afraid/expecting they would say—either because my presentation was bad or because it isn’t right for the market or because I’ve been deluding myself about False Gods’ potential this whole time. I was bracing myself for “No thank you”, and it didn’t come!

One agent wants a proposal when False Gods is finished (we discussed how I would know when it’s “finished”) because he finds the idea really cool (*cue my mind exploding*). The other agent wants a full manuscript and a couple other things after I’m done with this draft (*mind explodes again*).

Obviously, neither of these are contract offers, but I was able to discuss a few of my confusions about genre and such with both agents. Overall, the pitch appointments were super encouraging and helpful, and I’m so excited to see where Jesus takes this. Maybe he’s planning on getting False Gods out into people’s hands sooner than I had anticipated, or perhaps he’s going to help me work through rejection again. We’ll see. :)

So there’s a snapshot of my Realm Makers 2018 experience.

This was largely people-centric for me, which is highly unusual for me since I’m a little introverted snail, but it was good. So good.

Jesus blessed me in so many ways, but he worked most profoundly in the relationships forged for the first time and the friendships strengthened and deepened.

My heart is so full.

Have you been to a writing conference before? Have you heard of Realm Makers? Will I see you there next year?

With love,

Rosalie <3

p.s. – today happens to be the day when I celebrate twenty years of being out and about on earth. O.o

p.p.s. – the main thing Jesus drove home for me this weekend is probably this: You are not meant to create in isolation. You need your tribe of people, which is in this case, a very niche part of the Church as a whole.

Standard

Posted by

Posted on

March 19, 2018

Posted under

Writers Life, Writing

Comments

2 Comments

A Writer’s Guide to Receiving Critique

A couple of weeks ago I posted about giving critiques to fellow writers, and today we’re looking at the other side of the coin: receiving critique. Some of this may be some no brainer stuff, but it’s taken a few years of watching myself and other writers take critiques and different ways we do it well and some ways we do it very poorly for me to finally figure this out.

So let’s get this party started.

writers guide receiving critique 2.jpg

Before you send out your story…

Evaluate why you’re getting a critique.

For a while, I sent my stories out for “critique” to get a pat on the back. Of course, I would never (ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER) have said that aloud, and I never actually thought it in so many words… but my reactions to criticism betrayed me. My heart wanted people to love everything about my stories—which is normal, but in my heart, I also expected people to love everything about my stories.

Spoiler alert: that is not what a critique is about. At least, that’s not what it should be about. So before you send out your story, check your heart and unspoken motives to make certain you actually want to make your story better.

Be choosy about who you ask for a critique.

There are a few things to watch out for when deciding who to send a story to. First, don’t pull from only your peer group. If your writing equals are the only ones reading your story, the only level of excellence you will achieve is that of your peer group. No matter how long you’ve been writing or how much success you’ve seen, there is still so much you don’t know. To get the most out of a critique, it’s best to get the opinions of people from as many different backgrounds as possible so that you can get the most varied and in-depth feedback as possible.

Second, be careful to send to primarily (if not exclusively) trusted people who truly know and care about you and want you to grow and succeed. These people will give some of the most encouraging feedback, and they will be willing to say hard things gently in order to help you get better.

If all you ever hear from a certain critique partner is negative and proves unhelpful, stop sending them your stories. On the other hand, if all you ever hear from a critique partner is positive, excited feedback that strokes your ego but doesn’t challenge you, stop sending them your stories because they aren’t actually helping you.

After you get your story back…

If you’re upset by a critique, wait for your emotions to cool before replying; you want to respond, not react.

Alas, not all feedback is going to make you go over the moon. If it were, you would never grow. So, if/when you receive a critique that’s very upsetting, resist the urge to hop on your computer and rage at the person who gave the critique. No matter what they said about you or your story, you should never reply in the heat of emotion. There is no legitimate license for that anywhere in the world. Wait a few hours, or even days, if that’s what it takes for you to graciously reply.

Resist the urge to debate them about the critique.

This principle rules out passive aggressively telling your critique partner they’re wrong. They may be; they may not be. Regardless, don’t critique their critique. Friends, little will make your critique partners want to never agree to read and give feedback for you ever again like a response that insists—either overtly or subtly—that they don’t know what they’re talking about or they’re the only person who thinks that way. Such replies reek of disrespect and arrogance which stir up unnecessary strife between you and your critique partner.

Usually, the best way to respectfully disagree is the silent way since writing is not something worth serious conflict.

Remember why you’re getting a critique.

If you’re having a hard time swallowing a critique, it’s time to revisit why you sent your story out to get critiqued in the first place.

This is your story.

Now, receiving a critique with grace and humility does not mean you take every suggestion and negative comment to heart. First, remember that feedback will often conflict, so it would be impossible to make every change. Second, your job as a storyteller is not to produce something that makes everyone happy. Your job as a storyteller is to craft the strongest story you can. Take the feedback that helps you do that and throw out the rest.

Value your critique partners, especially the ones who give constructive criticism.

My brother Caleb is one of my favorite critique people. He’s not a creative writer by trade, but he knows stories so much better than I do and always has good input. Buuuuuuut, I kind of have to brace myself whenever I’m reading his critiques, not because he’s mean or anything like that but because he’s very clinical in his comments. Reading his thoughts is like pouring alcohol on a cut—it stings, but I know it’s going to go a long way in strengthening my story.

It’s been some of his suggestions on The Necklace and Our Family that changed them the most for the better (he’s the one who helped me out of the deep, dark early drafts of Our Family). I know I can trust him because he loves me and is always pushing me to grow and change for the better.

So when it comes to your critique partners, value you them and make sure they know that you value them.

Thank them. A lot. Like, a lot, a lot. Don’t forget that it takes time to read, digest, and then give feedback on a story, so thank them for their time and their thoughts. I don’t thank my critique partners enough, and I don’t believe we can be too grateful.

That’s all I’ve got for today, kids!

Here’s a huge shout out to my go-to critique partners: Daddy (the first to lay eyes on any of my stories), Caleb (the super wise dude), and Katie (basically the epitome of the balanced critique partner). <3 Thank you guys so much for all the times you’ve read bits of flash fiction and gotten back to me when I frantically send it in to you in the eleventh hour. Without you, The Necklace and Our Family wouldn’t be out in the world today.

With love,

Rosalie

P.S. – Do you have anything to add to this post? Anything you disagree with? What’s up for you this fine Monday??

Standard

Posted by

Posted on

August 29, 2017

Posted under

God, Writers Life, Writing

Comments

10 Comments

When Something I Love Became Something It Shouldn’t

*insert witty post preface that makes you want to read this post*

when-somehing-i-love.jpg

This past June and July were intense writing months for me. I reread Draft Three of Beasts, found a dysfunctional story, and decided that I could and would fix it. Because that’s what I do. I fix things. And if I can’t fix something, it drives me just a little bit crazy. And so help me, I was going to fix this story if it killed me.

A lot of June went into brainstorming how this fixing was going to happen and figuring out just how much of the 90,000 word Draft Three was going to be axed. As it turns out, 85k met the sword in my pursuit of a better fourth draft. I was on a deadline, one I couldn’t move again, so I dove into rewriting (fourth time’s a charm, right?).

I enjoyed very few (translation: zero) of the hours upon hours upon hours poured into the actual rewrites. Between hating the story itself and being drained spiritually, emotionally, and mentally by the other things going on in my personal life, the last thing I wanted to do was try and put what little I had left into fixing that stupid, broken story. As I wrote, I came to dislike it even more because the story was too warped to fix in one draft, but I had to do what I could because I’d postponed the Deadline too much already (the Deadline was an editorial review with an amazing freelance editor).

So I wrote, and I hated it. Doing the writing. The words themselves. Coughing up thousands and thousands of brand new words. Feeling guilty on days I only wrote 1,000 words. Sick with stress that made my family question if it was worth it, if I should write when it so obviously drove me to further physical exhaustion, anxiety, and emotional distress. I was wound so tight that I was popping a couple times a week in one way or another.

But I’m a writer, and writers write.

So that’s what I did. I wrote. I lived and breathed that story for five whole weeks. My sun rose and fell on how much progress I’d made, how many words I’d put on the page, how many days spun between me and the Deadline, and if I thought I could make it. Because so help me, I was going to make it. My thoughts ran in a constant, dogged cycle of plot and characters and questions and cringing over how people would react. Oh, yes, I was always anxious about what people would think when they read it, a bit of black terror crunching my heart whenever I guessed what they’d say. Too dark. Too confusing. Too simple. Too choppy. Too weird. Underdeveloped. Not enough description. Trying too hard. Too many plot holes. Childish. And let’s not even get into that rushed excuse for an ending.

I finished it, though, and it came to just over 60,000 words with just one day to spare. So off it went to an editor, and I was finally freeeeeeeeeee.

Except I wasn’t.

The anxiety and fear hounded me, and the remnants of the story hung in my mind, saturating my thoughts still because the whole time I was writing, something was missing, something big. And the absence of this thing was what put me into such a frenetic state, and I knew it. I knew what was wrong, why I was so agitated and turbulent; it wasn’t just about stress or dedication or perseverance or getting too little sleep.

It came into sharp focus when I received my edits. My editor had so many good thoughts and critiques, but one thing she said, an offhand kind of comment, struck me: “I can’t wait to see what God will do with it once it’s even more polished.”

Ah, right. God. Him. You know, the One I’ve said up and down that my writing is for blah, blah, blah. Yeah, Him.

I knew I was writing without Him, knew I was driving a wedge between us by how everything else was mastering me. I did my devotions faithfully, and I sought Him… but not as hard as I sought to fix that story. It’s sadly ironic—I didn’t like even one aspect of writing and story at the time, yet it was the writing and story that dominated my thoughts, took hold of my emotions, and consumed my energy instead of devotion to my Christ.

What I loved became something it was never intended—by me or my Jesus—to be. Ever.

It was a twisted form of worship, not to God, but to myself and what I could accomplish, had to accomplish, devoid of my greatest Vision. And after writing with and for God as much as I have tried to, I was keenly aware of how hard it was to wrestle against Him and try and make Him bless my work while I carried and would not give up a double-heart. A heart that wanted Him but not enough to make me seek Him with everything like I used to. A heart that wanted His blessings and hand in my writing but not enough to live like it. A heart that took the story He gave me and made it into something less, much less.

And I’ve spent the last month lying to myself, telling myself that it was so hard because I procrastinated (though, that did happen), it was so hard because the story was too much to fix in one shot (though, it was to an extent), it was so hard because of all the other things going sideways in life, it was so hard because blah blah blah.

Well, no, it was so hard because I did it alone, because I did it hoping to create something incredible by myself. I was all at once terrified of what people would say and yearning for their praise and approval, wanting them to tell me I had made something great and powerful. And most laughably of all, I wanted people to say that they were moved spiritually, that they understood grace a little better, that God spoke through it yet I wasn’t involving God in the writing. (And don’t mistake me: God can involve Himself in whatever He sees fit to with or without anyone knowing or recognizing it. My point here is that my heart was impure.)

What then? Now that I’m being honest—with myself and God and everyone else too—how do I untangle this? How do I put writing back where it is meant to be and bow my heart again to God?

Well, thank goodness I’m not doing it by myself. It’s been a lot of thinking and praying and wrestling with the Holy Spirit and opening hands and remembering and relearning truth I’ve somehow forgotten and coming back to full, true worship and communion with Him for the first time in weeks.

Why am I posting this on the blog? Because I’ve read that being honest and real (and ten other buzzwords like “authentic”) is important, and also because it hurts my pride more than just little to admit (on the freaking internet) that I struggled hard with things that this post and this post would have everyone believe I’m so far over.

There is always the danger that the things we love will become something they shouldn’t, will take on a role they aren’t meant to, and my prayer is that the Holy Spirit will help mightily, just like He helps me and is patient with me.

With love,

Rosalie <3

Standard

Posted by

Posted on

August 14, 2017

Posted under

Writing

Comments

4 Comments

Interview with Aimee Meester [writer and producer of the Bright Eyes Podcast]

It’s Monday, kids, and that means good times all around here on Penprints.

Last month, the first episode of the Bright Eyes podcast was released, and I was quickly, irrevocably hooked. It’s a science fiction podcast following the adventures of Trish Odessa, the pilot-turned-captain of the Ender in the wake of her untimely, unexplained promotion. Much mystery, suspense, and space ensue.

And Aimee Meester, the writer and producer of the podcast, has graciously agreed to do an interview!

aimee meester interview 1.jpg

Rosalie: Hey, Aimee! Welcome to Penprints! :D I’m so jazzed to have you “here” to tell us about your podcast, Bright Eyes. To start with, can you share a little bit about yourself for those who don’t know of you?

aimee meester.jpgAimee: Thanks so much for having me! I’m Aimee, obviously — I’m a writer and storyteller and lover of all things sci-fi, including podcasts, obviously. My favorite genre is anything weird and right now I’m probably at home with my cat because that’s how I roll.

R: Cats = aw, yesssssss. SO, why sci-fi and anything weird? What has drawn you to those genres?

A: I grew up on Star Wars and Star Trek, so it just kind of grew on me as I grew up. Then I discovered the world of weird genres beyond that, and I was totally lost. (I’ll be in love with steampunk forever.) I adore spaceships, and the future, and the wild creativity and imagination you have in these genres.

R: Wow, so cool. So with your love for and background in sci-fi, what was your inspiration for Bright Eyes?

A: So it was actually… Star Trek: Beyond. :P I came out of the theater pumped up and excited about bright colors and spaceships and sci-fi that’s not so much dark and gritty (though I love that) as it is neon and fast-paced. Novels are standard for me, so that’s how it started…but as I started to discover fiction podcasts I realized this could be the perfect format for something that wasn’t working as a straight up novel.

whyR: Ohhhh, I love Star Trek: Beyond! You touched on it a little bit already, but can you explain a little more as to why you wanted to put out a story via podcast instead of more “traditional” avenues?

A: Honestly I just thought it would be cool! I’m a fan of finding different and creative formats for storytelling, and discovering podcasts blew my mind. The challenge and newness of it appealed to me, and it was awesome when I finally had an idea that fit with that format.

R: And after the initial decision to produce a podcast, what steps did you take to create it, and what have been some of your favorite/most challenging parts of the whole process?

A: I really just started out with no plan. I didn’t know how I was going to voice characters (I thought it might be me for a little bit!), I didn’t know how I would get it out there, I had zero equipment, no experience. I didn’t even actively start looking for people to help. I started writing episodes anyway, just cranking them out, getting out all my ideas and putting together my ideal episodes. I really don’t know where I would be if I had tried to get everything together before I started writing. It helped HUGELY to start with what I could do and go from there. Then Sydney and Cyrus, my crew, found me on Twitter through a series of happy accidents, and we got to work on the actual music and voice work.

My favorite part of this whole process is the collaboration. It’s fun to create a story by yourself, but it’s something totally different to create a story and characters with other people. I’m lucky to work with two people who really understand the project and have so many things to add in ways that I lack, which is nice. We fill in each other’s blank spots in that way. I write all the words and the story, yeah, but then it goes through Sydney, and her tone and voicework and the way she expresses and emphasizes things adds a whole new layer, and then Cyrus adds music and sound effects that add another layer. By the time it’s finished and out there it’s something none of us could have created on our own and I love that so much. It’s always a joy listening to the final episode and hearing what it’s become.

ai motto 2My least favorite part is adjusting to the fact that I’m writing for audio, and I’m writing for someone else’s voice. Obviously I have control over the words I write, but writing novels (which is the thing I’m used to doing) is hugely different from writing something that’s made only for audio. I have to constantly remind myself that this can’t sound pretty, there can’t be descriptions, it has to sound like someone talking. I also have to keep in mind Sydney’s voice and how she says things. Which sounds weird, but there are some phrases that she’s going to do awkwardly and some that work much better for her and how she voices the character, and the more I hear of her voice in this project the more I have to adjust myself to write accordingly. It turns out great, but it’s a bit of a pain when you’re not used to it.

R: Wow, that is so interesting! Thank you for sharing! Now, I’ve seen Bright Eyes spark a ton of interest in creating fiction podcasts. So, for any of the aspiring writers and podcasters (let’s just say that’s a word), what would be three pieces of advice you would give them as they set out to produce a podcast?

A: 0. “podcaster” is totally a word.

As for real, actual advice…

  1. Just start writing it. I don’t care if you don’t have anything lined up, if you don’t know what you’re going to do with it. Don’t wait. If you have an idea, and you want to make it happen, just start writing it. Nothing is going to happen until you have something on the page, I can promise you that.
  2. Listen to other podcasts! I’m begging you, listen to other fiction podcasts. Just like you read lots of books if you want to write books, you have to consume lots of what you’re trying to create. Podcasts don’t follow the rules of books. You have to train your brain to approach writing them in a totally different way. They’re written differently, in different ways, with different focuses, and you should probably be familiar with that before you try anything. Some great examples and places to start are Welcome to Night Vale (urban fantasy), Within the Wires (sci-fi), Sayer (hard sci-fi), Limetown (paranormal/horror), Wooden Overcoats (humor, soap-opera-y)…
  3. Don’t do it on your own. You’ll go insane.

R: Wow, thank you so much for all the fantastic insights, Aimee. And thank you for taking the time to share a little about your journey with Bright Eyes. I can’t wait for the next episode!

You can find Aimee on her website, her blog, Instagram, and Twitter.

You can listen to episodes one, two, and three of Bright Eyes, and episode four releases on August 21.

And the hashtag to use is: #wheresmilo.

Have you heard of Bright Eyes? Are you thinking of writing a fiction podcast? Are you a sci-fi fan?

With love,

Rosalie