On Growing

After a long, hot, trying summer, we've finally broken into my favorite season. The landscape is still badly in need of some rain, but the cool breeze, and the even cooler evenings have been invigorating for everything on the farm, me included; probably me most of all. Partly because I tend to wilt in the extreme heat, but mostly because, for as long as I can remember, fall is the season that leaves me crackling with creative energy. I like the warmth and weight of piled-up quilts. I love the somber grace of low, gray clouds, and the last fiery blaze of maple leaves. And my inner Sherlock Holmes loves the color palette; the scents of rain and damp jackets, and the glow of warm lamplight. The early nights and cold chills bring us inside; leave us a little more patient for the leisurely, lush prose of stories intended to be savored by a fire, rather than skimmed through on a beach. 

Safe to say I love fall. And that it gets me fired up to write; and fired up to blog about writing. 

I've spoken at length over the past few years about growing as a writer. It's my constant refrain: "I've grown as a writer." But I don't usually elaborate. I've said that Dragon Slayer is my best work - and I truly believe it's my strongest writing to date. But what does that mean? 

Judging a piece of writing is generally a nebulous art. It's why, while I love to recommend books I've enjoyed, I don't like to offer star ratings and try to numerically quantify a book's enjoyment level. No matter how anyone tries to justify their star rating system, it's always completely subjective. I've had readers knock stars because they disagreed with a character's personal beliefs or politics; for a lack of sex; for, even, a dearth of motorcycles on the page. Some readers love description, and others loathe it. Any author would go mad if she tried to adjust her style to suit the very particular needs of reviewers. I certainly don't do it, and I can't recommend anyone else doing it, either. 

Authors can grow financially by expanding their audience and cultivating a following, sure. But when I talk about growing, I'm talking about growing as a writer. As an artist. I'm talking about slowly, over time, tweaking and perfecting my craft, becoming more adept at putting my vision on the page. 

In general, I can look at each of my books and take note of the ways my writing improved with each one. Writing is an endeavor in which we learn by doing - and by completing. Each finished manuscript better equips us to write the next manuscript. I'm still very much me; my approach remains the same, but if you compare Fearless and Dragon Slayer side-by-side, the growth jumps out. 

I'm very much a detail-oriented person. It's not only how I write, but how I see the world, and that isn't going to change. But the way I convey details - the prose of a description - has gotten much more precise and tactile. The growth is in knowing which details to emphasize, and which ones to understate for maximum impact. 

With Sons of Rome in general, and Dragon Slayer in particular, given its setting, I had so much fun using description to explore a very classical (think Hellenistic) idea of beauty. That's the reason I'm such a detail person: when I write, no matter the setting or subject, I want the prose to convey that moment's beauty. Even if it's a strange kind of beauty - perhaps especially then. Even dark, ugly, haunting moments; terrifying and cringe-worthy moments: my goal is always to paint them beautifully with prose. That's the Romantic in me; the Victorian Gothic in me. It's a style of writing that I used while writing Dartmoor...but, ultimately, I think it's a style at odds with that particular subgenre. Do the readers of those books care if the scenes are written as an appeal to beauty? Feedback over the years has led me to believe that the answer is no, they don't especially. (Pausing to think about that review that said Loverboy was a terrible book because Kev was "pretty.") But I don't regret writing them that way; I learned an incredible amount about craft, and characterization, and finding beauty in fiction-writing. The style does work well, though, with this half-historical, epic, crazy fantasy series I'm working on now. Beauty can be presented without adhering to particular standards. Val can be beautiful because he's lithe and pretty; Vlad can be beautiful because he's terrible, and tragic, and ruthless. My goal, always, is to reveal every scene, every character in a story as subtly alluring to the audience - at least in some way. And that's maybe the element of DS I'm most proud of. 

I also think I've become, in general, less apologetic in my characterization. When I wrote Fearless, I was keenly aware that, for a large chunk of my audience, that way of life was going to be not only alien, but abhorrent. Mercy had done some very violent things, Ava had made some very not-modern decisions about her agency, and I know I put emphasis on explaining that to the audience. Cut to DS, and you don't really get farther from mainstream than Vlad...but I approached him the way I would any character, without apology, with frankness and sympathy. I really can't imagine managing this book five years ago, but I loved every minute I spent developing Vlad; he's become one of my absolute favorite characters to write. In truth, I think this growth is an internal, mental thing; I don't feel the need to apologize for any of my characters. But sometimes having that sort of mindset is wonderfully freeing. 

It's true that the more you write, and the more you grow, the more you tend to doubt yourself. It's part and parcel: the more you know, the more you realize how much you don't know. But I also know that I'm willing to tackle character threads that intimidated me just a few short years ago, and that is growth for which I'm immensely thankful. 

Please know: when I talk about growing, it's not a case of dismissing what I've done before. Rather, it's an acknowledgement of previous work - it's being thankful for it - and looking for ways, going forward, to apply what I've learned.