It's not all fun and games in computer art

If you keep making corrections on a paper-and-pen drawing, you can end up with an eraser-rubbed hole. Or a mess of a dark smudge. Either way, you crumple up your paper and start over, because obviously, you weren't getting anywhere.

You'd think you'd be immune to this with computer art. Piece by piece, you can create the components of an image, like a collage (whichever way to go about creating these pieces, and that's not the point of today's post). And then you can put together the disparate elements, move here, tweak there, adjust elsewhere... Correct the angle of the light, and the reflection, and...

You'd think it gets easy once you have everything in place and all you have to do is a final render, and then take a look at the finished image in a "normal" format such as JPG or PNG or some other ordinary image format.

And you'd be wrong. You may not know it, but your computer is plotting against you. It's already damaged your "paper" and worn down your "pencil" so when you hit , what you get is a jumbled mess.

Can you control this? Oh yes. It's a skill, just like using a pencil that's sharpened enough, but not too much. Applying pressure, but without marking the paper until the next three sheets in the pad become unusable.

And the conclusion? Not much. My image got scrapped.

So I'm back to the cartoony illustrations of Russian tales. One in the pipeline and almost ready for publication, and a few more to go to make a dozen.

Take a sneak peak at the Tale of the Turnip.

Show&Tell Workshop Starts Friday

I've been having lots of fun doing workshops for Savvy Authors. Friday, I'm starting my next one, on Showing and Telling. As always, I try to make it both lecture-full and hands-on, so that every attendant can get something out of it.

And yes, when I say hands-on, I do mean I respond to all posts, and I do go over the assignments, and if you join in and wish to challenge me, I'm always game. I don't grade, I don't judge, and I don't assess. I do, however, suggest what I think could help you given my experience as writer, teacher, and literary scholar.

But mostly, I have FUN. I love workshops. I started them because I missed the in-class time I had with my college students. But at the same time, online and out of the formal university structure, I have the freedom to teach and share whatever I want -- you're the judges of whether it's good or not.

So if you're like me, and you've been puzzled by the advice to "show, don't tell," check out my workshop.

Because why do you think it started out to begin with?

I needed to put the information into order, and what better way than to attempt to explain it to someone else. If you can make sense of it (whatever it is) so that a third person can grasp the essence of the problem, then you know you understand it yourself.

Teaching is the best of learning. And I've taught this workshop more than once. But you know what? Teaching it is like taking a refresher. Knowing and understanding the ins and outs of Showing, Not Telling is not enough. You have to practice it constantly and consistently to truly master it.

... Now I have to remember ALL the OTHER details of writing a story. Like sentence structure. And avoiding pot... I mean, plot holes...

A New Design Collection

I discovered the Power of Cute....

Well, actually, I discovered the right cuties. I already knew that Cute had The Power.

So now I can't stop trying to create more and more images of cute Folktale illustrations in Cute Style.

What is it? Something like this:

This is just a fragment of the whole image. It is from "Teremok: The Animals' Palace", a design that's coming soon to my store at Zazzle. A few others are already up, cards and a mug, and accessories.

With Zazzle, you can use most of my designs on products I don't showcase. There's a lot of leeway in how you can personalize a product to your needs and taste -- and I don't get slighted in the process!

If you want something you don't see, please ask! I'm always looking for ideas.

Picture the Season

I don't know about the Christmas spirit, but I definitely get into the Christmas colors. So I decided to add to it.

The thing is, unless it's seriously traditional (and you should ask a folklorist raised on old tales, legends, and centuries-old recipes what traditional means), a lot about modern Christmas is just silly. And when Santa's Elves get into mischief... well...

Check out this card. It's available at Zazzle (link below), singly or in packs. I have more gifts available at Zazzle and at CafePress. Heh. Just have a look. I'll never know whether you do or not. Anonymous shopping is the word!

Christmas Mischief by surochek
Make note cards on Zazzle

Site Troubles

NOTE: Graphic Novel pages added! Check out the sidebar!

You may have noticed that my sites are down. I'm working on it.

In the meantime, I'm still here and there, like Facebook and this blog, and I'm still at the computer behind the scenes.

Since I have no idea when the Graphic Novel section of my site will be running again, I'll start posting episodes here as soon as I produce them. Of course, that too was slightly delayed by the website hiccup.

Puppy Bliss

I always fantasized of writing with a dog at my feet.

Why?

I have no idea. It's just one of those images you have that represent something close to perfection.

A sleeping dog more or less at my feet, and me working steadily at my computer.

Well, tonight, for a moment at least, my dream is realized. Exhausted by his play, Percy the Puppy crashed two feet away from my chair and is sleeping the sleep of the innocent while I work at my countless little writing projects. What's more, I'm having a glass of wine, my second child is happily watching TV at an acceptable volume, my elderly mother has retired, my husband is home and reading -- the vibes in the house are peaceful and relaxed. Everybody is self-contained and satisfied.

(The oldest is out doing her Friday night thing after giving us an update on her plans to keep us relaxed and happy. She's a good kid.)

Nights like this are rare. Nights like this with a relaxed, sleeping puppy, blissful at the feet of his human Alpha are even rarer. Nights like this are what happiness is made of.

It's not the big achievements -- that's exhilaration. It feels good, but it's not happiness. It's the little moments. The puppy sleeping and twitching in his dreams, collapsed in exhaustion right on top of the soda carton he's shredded into microscopic bits.

Free Read Continued

Today is the day when I wish I could just write a WordPress plugin from scratch all by myself. Of course, I'd need a little (just a tiny bit, yeah, sure) more knowledge, and lots more free thinking time... But still.

I have already have issues with my Webcomic site, and I don't seem to be the only one.

But I have updates!

So I'll post the next few pages here until the WordPress + Webcomic issues are resolved.

Read on...

New Site... Free Read

Yes, yes, another site... But this time, I haven't tweaked the layout or the design... yet.

It's all about content.

It's all about a WEB COMIC.

Or would that be a WEB EPIC? You be the judge.

The problem is, it doesn't have a title yet. So check out how it all starts and leave me a comment.

For the actual, comic-like sequential (still) art, check it out here.

Or you can watch the trailer-like Prologue.

New Site Designs

I've been working on several new web site designs for Otter Creations. Those won't be for sale, since they're custom designs, but they were fun to create.

All the more so as they're all in WordPress 3.1.

A bit of a headache to bend it to my will (people who write tutorials assume a lot of knowledge from their readers, and of course their minds never work like mine), but as usual, the reward when it all comes together is worth a little chair dance.

The first one is a future blog on the late Hunter S. Thompson -- as writer, not the notorious Hunter S., it's being done enough. I'll let the blog speak for itself when it goes live, I'm only doing the layout and maintenance.

Right -- because the minimalist design for this one was done by Royal Jelly, who also does other graphic arts like T-Shirts and totes and cards.


Then I had some fun with my graphic tablet, which I don't use nearly enough. Well, that's going to change.

And that has to do with the big computer crash and the new computer acquisition and other geekery. Windows 7 is much more tablet-friendly than XP. I'm still learning the tricks, but it definitely lets me do more and better with the tablet. See me rubbing my hands in glee.

So I did some tracing and some font-searching and some layering and some other fun stuff. And there was the dialogue with the "client" (this was another in-house job so to speak, but Otter Creations takes every one of its sites seriously).


And finally the update to MashaHoll.com is in the works. Just because I wanted to play. Well, and because updating the site had become a big pain in the... sit-upon.

This is one way to procrastinate...

I do this:

And there's more here.

There. The cat's out of the bag. You know how my secret procrastination method.

Except it's grown worse. It's invading my writing world. I have this idea...

Wait for it...

I want to tell a story in pictures.

I mean, I see pictures anyway when I write. I see pictures when I imagine my stories, and meanwhile, I think in sentences, even when I look at the world around me. Or at least in words.

Like: "Street sign. Blue. Noticing -- why? Familiar street. Bright against background. Image? Image. Pole, sign -- computer. Maybe. Not my best. Can do?..."

Etc.

That was pretty much the stream of consciousness of a second while I was walking my puppy tonight, and I happened to look up and notice the light and colors of a familiar street corner. And thought that it would be possible to make this exact image in computer art and that I almost had the skills, and then I started going through my computer files mentally...

So I'm thinking... If I'm that visual and the words come naturally jumbled and broken... What if I put images first and words as support, instead of words first and images as ghosts in my mind?

What if I tried my hand at a graphic story with the help of my favorite graphic software?

Plot -- scenario -- storyboard -- actors --

It's beginning to look a lot like a movie, actually. And no, none of my characters are in the Gallery yet, but then I don't know them well enough yet to ask for autographs.

What? Oh, what it's about?

Well, it's set in the real world, but sometime in the future...

Oh, sorry, I'd better check on the puppy. He keeps getting into all the trash baskets lately.

Teaching is Still Cool

There comes a time in a teacher's life when pulling a group of students along just sucks, and you think you'll never, ever want to do it again. Not ever.

But like a stage performer, you're drawn back to the limelight. Because teaching, in whatever form, is a performance, and you have the undivided attention of an eager audience.

I'm not immune to the bug. Oh no. So when I get the chance to show off and teach a workshop to fellow writers, I jump on the opportunity!

It's one thing to offer workshops through my own website at Otter Creations, but it's something else to visit a different site and teach out there in the wide world.

I just finished a workshop for Passionate Ink on world building and another one for Savvy Authors on descriptions. It was fun, that's for sure. It had me rethinking what I thought I knew about the subjects -- or rather, seeing things in a new light. That's the best part of teaching: you never stop learning yourself.

And of course, the attention you get isn't bad either. But you know, we writers have this little issue with self-esteem vs. ego...

Anyway...

Check out the next workshop coming up from Otter Creations. It's about writing a synopsis.

Were you one of the fortunate ones who made it to National? Did you get a request? Or are you just pumped up and ready to send out queries? Either way, you'll need to have a synopsis ready. Join me in a very hands-on, practical, 3-week workshop.

And while you're on the Otter Creations site, why don't you cast your vote for the workshops you'd like to see offered next year? You can even request a brand new one.

Perceptions

I gave a talk yesterday, and while my conviction that Ann Lamott's Bird by Bird is a great writing book and everybody should read it had been reinforced, I also realized that my favorite quote from that book could be interpreted in many different ways.

To paraphrase Ann Lamott, you should allow yourself to "write a shitty first draft."

I said that in the comments after my talk. I even said that you could submit it to your critique group. Which put my favorite critique coordinator on her high horse.

Why?

Because we have different ideas of what a "shitty first draft" is.

Hers includes grammatical mistakes, spelling errors, and other basic goofs of a version that I don't even call a "draft." It's a "rough", maybe. It's something between me and me. Not something for anyone to see. My concept of the "shitty first draft" is a grammatically clean version, checked for spelling, verified for as many basic errors of style as you can spot, but still not ready for the public.

In my opinion, the critique group is a very valuable commodity and should not be abused by off-hand submissions of unchecked pages. But the critique group is also not the (ordinary) public and can help sort through the mess of a first draft.

But back to the "shitty first draft." My perception, when I need to remind myself that it's okay, you can, and must write a shitty first draft, is to turn off the long-term editor and to let the movie reel play out.

Stay in the moment and forget the fine points of style and the elegance of narration. Just do it. Get in on the page. Get the images and the speeches and the actions of your characters out onto the paper (or the virtual paper of your computer screen).

It's not about writing badly, it's about just writing when something's holding you back and the story is pushing to get out.

I couldn't NOT check the spelling on my pages. Or switch a word for a better one on the fly if the substitution occurred to me. Because my mind would keep going back to THAT spot.

But I would make myself stop worrying about how I'll get myself out of that situation. How it will lead to the conclusion I vaguely foresee. How I will resolve the new conflict.

I just write.

And worry later.

The smoothness and perfection (such as it may be) will come later, after many, many revisions and interventions, and applications of sandpaper and buffing cloth.

Imagination

South Texas is not green. It's not cool, it's not fresh, and it's not a land of soft, rolling, verdant hills, or tall stately trees.

But then sometimes, after a few days of heavy rains, it does green up. And it revives in spectacular fashion. On a fall day like today, when the morning is cool (all things being relative, of course, after almost two months with highs around 100F), and the sky is a soft blue, and the grass begs to be cut, and the trees have some fresh growth that make seasons irrelevant, you could pretend to be just about anywhere.

Driving through my neighborhood, looking at the bushy trees lining the suburban streets, I can feel other places. The old forests of Europe with their 90-foot trees and trunks so thick you can't wrap your arms around them. The shade so deep that sunlight never pierces it and it's always sweater-cool while the meadows just yards away are burning hot in the summer. The sweet-tart red berries hiding under the tiny umbrellas of their lacy leaves. Or the carpets of knee-high bilberries you pick and eat on the spot.

All this from a five-minute ride through a South-Texas neighborhood. Just because the street turned and went up the hill, and trees bracketed the road and framed the pale-blue sky. And because I didn't have the air conditioning on in the car, just the fan, and I could smell the actual morning air.

And the music? The radio was playing "Black Magic Woman" by Santana. A song that's always been slick and urban to me, a nighttime song of city lights. Not just any city light -- big city lights, slick city lights. Paris, glitz, a night club. High fashion and expensive champagne. Wide avenues and old architecture. High society and old money rubbing elbows with new. Movie stars and financiers. Lust, greed, and cold, cold minds.

A Paris I never lived in, but one I saw and imagined easily enough. My Paris was a middle-class city, of schools and children and neighborhood stores. Of cafés and warm Sunday-morning croissants and hot, strong coffee. Good wine, good food, and large family gatherings.

All this from a quick drive to drop of my kid at school?

Well, yes. It's called imagination. That's how I can sit in a dark room, with a sweltering 100+F summer outside, and write my characters lost in a cold, northern winter. Because I'm wearing a T-shirt and the A/C is blowing on my bare arms.

On the other hand, maybe I'll write about a mysterious desert city next time. To commemorate the time when the A/C broke.

Or not. Some things don't need to be imagined.

Guest Blogger Sandy Lender

Welcome back, Sandy! And congratulations on the release of the sequel of Choices Meant for Gods. Let me say that I love your titles. Of course, I'm a big fantasy fan, and these titles just invite the reader's imagination to fly!

And don't miss the blog-tour special excerpt!

Inspiration in All Places

By Fantasy Author Sandy Lender

http://www.authorsandylender.com

A lot of folks have asked me about inspiration. It’s a question that folks like to ask of creative types like artists and movie stars and writers. (Please notice how I just lumped myself in there with artists and movie stars. Cool, eh?) I don’t like to be glib because anyone asking the question deserves a real answer, but, honestly, everything inspires me.

Duran Duran, baby sea turtles, my parrots, sci fi shows/movies, thunderclouds over the Gulf at dawn, short elderly drivers in huge Lincoln town cars, bizarre chicks in L.A. bars, snow in the mountains, etc. At my fancy new Web site that just launched this summer, my letter to visitors tells of a funky incident from my early teens that inspired a short story in the Choices-supporting chapbook WHAT CHOICES WE MADE.

Something I know that fires the flames of inspiration for me is setting up my writing space. I participated in the annual 3-Day Novel Contest over Labor Day Weekend this year and found myself going through an almost ritual getting everything nice and “set” before the start time. What I’m curious about is readers’ “inspiration.” When you pick up a new book and prepare to crack open the front cover, do you need a special setting or a special mindset or some special music softly in the background to inspire you to drop easily into another world?

Thank you for checking in today and for participating in the conversation! “Some days, I just want the dragon to win.”

Good question, Sandy! And posters will be entered into a drawing for a hard cover copy of Sandy's book! So speak up: how do you prepare to enter a world of fantasy we create for you? And writers, what do you need to step into a world of your own creation?

Choices Meant for Kings.

Chariss is in danger. Her geasa is hampered by the effects of a friend’s marriage. The dashing Nigel Taiman hides something from her, yet demands she stay at his family’s estate where he and her wizard guardian intend to keep her safe. But the sorcerer Lord Drake and Julette The Betrayer know she’s there, and their monstrous army marches that way.

When prophecies stack up to threaten an arrogant deity, Chariss must choose between the dragon that courts her and the ostracized kings of the Southlands for help. Evil stalks her at every turn and madness creeps over the goddess who guides her. Can an orphan-turned-Protector resist the dark side of her heritage? Or will she sacrifice all to keep her god-charge safe?

A Tense Little Excerpt From Choices Meant for Kings

By Fantasy Author Sandy Lender

http://www.authorsandylender.com

You won’t find this excerpt anywhere except Sandy’s current online book tour…

As the soldier stepped toward him, Nigel reached out his arm and caught him by the neck. He slammed the captain against the far wall. He pinned him there with his body, leaning against the man as if he could crush the wind from him with his presence.

He brought his face close to the soldier’s ear and spoke lowly, fiercely, so that no one could have overheard him. The menace and intent behind the words was as surprising to the captain as the words themselves.

“I asked you to accompany [Chariss] on this journey tomorrow because I have faith in your sword, and until this moment I trusted you to keep your distance from her. Now, I find her down here at your side with a look upon your face that suggests more than you realize. So help me, Naegling, the only thing that stays my hand is how displeased she would be if she learned that I sliced you open.”

“The look you see is merely my concern for her honor. Nothing more.”

“I’m not a fool. And I’ll use every last piece of Arcana’s treasury to pay the prophets to justify my reasons for marrying that woman, so you can unconcern yourself with her honor.”

Hrazon stepped off the staircase then and saw Nigel pressed against his guard.

“I still believe you’re one of the best soldiers Arcana’s ever seen,” Nigel continued, “and I want you at her side for this journey, but, so help me, Naegling, she comes back alive and well and not confused in the least about her affections for me, or I will string you up from a tree in the orchard and attach your intestines to your horse’s saddle before I send it—”

Hrazon cleared his throat. “Excuse me. Is there an issue here I should address?”

They all have stories

One upon a time, your mother probably told you not to listen to gossip. Or to spread it, either.

What did you do?

If you're a nice person (and I have no reason to doubt it), you didn't spread any malicious rumors. But did you walk away when you heard juicy ones? Did you look the other way when you noticed body language that contradicted what was commonly known -- or belied the way things should have been?

Of course not. Because whatever your age was, you were a writer. And everyone, and everything around you told a story.

One of the most common questions authors are asked is "where do you get your ideas?"

We might as well answer -- where do we not?

Anyone takes a look at the grumpy expression of a neighbor--co-worker--classmate, and most people will think: "what's her (his) deal today?"

A writer will think: "I wonder what his (her) story is? What drove this person to such a bad mood that she (or he) can't hide it from the world? What traits of character make up someone who feels the need to spread their mood around? How would I show that in a story?"

If you're a visual artist, you walk around noticing details of shape and color and line. If you're a fashion designer, you notice draping and color and, again, line, but with a different emphasis. If you're a writer, you notice all of that, but instead of thinking how to render it all in pencil, color, or the drape of cloth, you start looking for the one word that will convey the essence of that single instant when you experienced the precise and fleeting emotion that stopped you.

Is it harder? I don't know. Easier? I don't know either. Is it like being a poet? I still don't know!

Everything is a story for me. It's the story of the teller as much as the story of the told. It's the story of the artist as much as the tale in the image. It's Vermeer painting the image, it's the brush that touched the canvas and the hand that held the brush, as much as the colors and the light and the shadows. It's the wealthy patron commissioning the work as much as the subject of the painting. It's the person who sat for the portrait as much as the image in the frame.

A trip through time. A passage into a different world. A glimpse into another person's mind.

A story. A tale. A marvel.

And going home to write a story of my own.