Discipline…It’s Actually A Four Letter Word

discipline
If it were only this simple…

From Week 1 of the planned 15-week beta-read for Independence until now, I have enjoyed the freedom to think about, distribute, revise, and edit the chapters of this novella at the relatively low-key pace of an academic winter break.  Of course lots of was going on–fielding family, prepping new courses, working around the house, “resting,” and working on the manuscript for my monograph on the American Brewing Industry–but none of these things have a looming deadline, a sense of structure, or a pace weighty enough to really inspire me to put my ass in gear.

All of this has changed with the beginning of the spring semester and the requirement to perpetually “be somewhere” and/or “do something” in alignment with precise coordinates in space-time.  Classes, presentations, faculty meetings, office hours, committee work, grading, deadlines, deadlines, deadlines.

As such, I am going to be  putting my money (and by money I mean time, because this is the most valuable currency I trade in) where my mouth is and implement some disciplined scheduling of my writing/revision/editing time, not only for the novella, but for all of the other writing I do.  This is of course something I have been SAYING that I am going to do for just about forever.  Disciplined scheduling of writing time is among the recommended practices of just about every prolific human I know.  But, to be honest, it has evaded me for a while.

So, along with all the new and shiny things I am attempting these days, disciplined “speculative fiction author time” will grace the top of the list.  Wish me luck!

Download Chapter 4

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“But What if I’m Wrong?”: Rethinking Speculative Fiction

I’m still riding the high of getting some really excellent feedback on the first chapter of Independence from the group of beta-readers who signed up for the Serial Beta-Reader Promo (I still have a few spots if folks are interested). This process has just started, but I’m reveling in it already.  If you would have asked me on any given day if I write for myself or if I write for others, I would have told you 99 times out of 100 that I write for others–perhaps compulsively.  I produce journal articles and monographs for my peers in academia, I blog for strangers on the interwebs, and I have begun a series of novellas for a certain breed of weird fiction readers.  But I am finding that this assumption of mine isn’t precisely true.  Readying the second chapter for beta-readers has me seeing it with different eyes, what if eyes, eyes that wonder why this was said or that was done, which is both refreshing and somewhat unnerving.  Also, I realize that I curse a lot, even in a fictional context.

What if eyes are of course native to the genre of speculative fiction (not in precisely the way I describe above, but I think you know where I am going).  I think they are what makes the genre so attractive to expansive thinkers, to forward lookers, and those who are habitually dissatisfied with the now–I believe I may be all three.

But I think, through the vision of what if eyes, there’s a good bit of smugness inherent to the genre of speculative fiction. It just happens to be well-obscured by skillful practitioners of the craft.  Some of my favorite examples of the genre (insert usual suspects here) aren’t the products of random speculation, but of great minds making arguments.  In their cautionary tenor, the exploits of Offred and Crake, Anderton and Decker,  Montag and Genly Ai, are all fantastic, luridly-detailed, impeccably-nuanced, “I told you sos.”  For everything else that these stories are (and this obviously includes a LOT), they are examples of brilliant thinkers crafting spaces where they can be unassailably right about the world. And oh how right they are!  I have no reservations about admitting that this is for me one of the biggest draws of writing in this genre.

But, I am unfortunately not gifted with the skill of an Atwood, a Dick, a Bradbury or Le Guin, and I am afraid my smugness will no doubt be smeared across the digital pages of these little ebooks I plan to put out there. I am, however, making an attempt to mitigate this inevitability by keeping one question in the front of my mind.

What if I am wrong?

I-am-wrong

In Independence and WITHOUT LIGHT (the series in which Independence is the first installment), I tackle a number of the ideas, discourses, institutions and movements that I have made the center of my personal and professional life–new urbanism, environmental sustainability, the corrections system, social stratification, and (most importantly) food justice.  I have strong (understatement) opinions on all of these topics, impassioned ideas about the future consequences of certain types of change or failures to change.  But I am asking as often as I can tolerate, “what if I am wrong?” What if organic farming has disastrous consequences? What if new urbanism leads to hyper-regionalism and isolation? What if environmental protectionism leads to profound alienation–pristine wild lands no one is willing to touch?

Though I have not given up entirely on being right (where would be the fun in that?), I am having a lot of fun exploring being wrong. Crossed fingers, I hope that my current and future readers have some fun with it too.

Download Independence: Chapter 2

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