Confessions of a Premise Writer

by Rob Hines

That’s me. I’m a Premise Writer.

It sounds like a real job, doesn't it? Premise Writer. It almost sounds like you could make money doing that.

Nope. Not even remotely.

Trust me. Being broke does NOT look this good.

Premise writing is what I've been doing since I decided to start writing fiction, and I've only recently come to grips with this label. It’s a sickness, kind of like rabies, I think. You can cure it, but it takes some gnarly treatment and you should probably avoid people for a month or so.

Are you a premise writer? Ask yourself these questions:

1. Do you have a billion ideas written in piles of spiral notebooks and/or an incredibly cluttered note-taking app on your phone?
2. Have you written any more than about a page or two of any one idea?
3. Do you waste time at work organizing your ideas in fun Google Drive folders instead of actually turning them into thought-out stories?
4. When you do write a story, do you tend to jump right to the “million dollar idea” and linger there for a while before jumping right to the end?
5. Have you had a story about a problem gambler who acquires a golden touch rejected because an editor feels “it all comes too easily” meaning the premise happens with no real conflict or consequences?

Okay, that last one is pretty much exclusive to me, but if you feel any sympathy pains for the other four, you may be a Premise Writer too. Hope is not lost, though. You and I can break from a fate of being buried in an avalanche of hoarded notebooks full of neglected concepts. The key is (cue dramatic music) OUTLINING!

Yep, there they go. The artists are leaving now. The ones who want their writing to be an expression of their inner beings have given up on me.

Okay, the rest of you? You’re professional writers. You’re the ones who know you have to plan a project to achieve consistent results (read: get paid to write)

I’m not dissing anyone who doesn't plan their writing. Hell, until about a week or two ago, I WAS one of those people. At least, I was that way in my fiction writing. My revelation came when I realized that I’m more than just a fiction writer. I’m a corporate writer too. I write copy for advertising, corporate blog articles, web copy, and even a corporate comic book! And you wanna hear a secret? I plan each of those projects before I write them. Why? Because I like to eat horrible food and my paycheck allows me to continue buying said horrible food. If I'm that committed to horrible food, why shouldn't I be just as committed to fulfilling my writing dream?

My cubicle-mate at the above-referenced day job is also a writer and he has published two non-fiction books (if you’re a baseball fan, you can buy one of them here). He’s a relentless planner when he writes and I guess I thought there were different rules for non-fiction. There aren't. Well, except for the whole factual thing.

No matter what you write, the best way to make writing more efficient and less torturous is to effectively outline your plot and your characters. I’m not talking about the high school research paper method with Roman numerals and A’s and B’s and all that. All I’m suggesting is you know what’s going to happen from start to finish as well as the major events in between. It may be a bulleted list. It may be a detailed list of acts and scenes. It may even be a mind map that starts with a central theme and bursts in all different directions. The key is putting your whole story on the page before you try to write 100,000 words around it.

I’m not saying it’s for everyone. I know many great writers just sit and write. Good for them. I’m a Premise Writer. If I do that, I will do a fantastic job of writing down a plot with terribly boring characters and little to no exposition or resolution. In other words, I will suck.

So now I’m outlining. I’m giving myself a chance to hear the story from start to finish and understand my characters so I have a blueprint to guide my actual writing. I’m giving myself a chance to not suck.

Words to live (and write) by

Well, at least not suck as much.

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Just a bunch of SELL-OUTS!

by Rob Hines

Yeah, I said it.

You're just a bunch of sell-outs.

Peevish Penman is Selling Out
on YouTube!

Carrie shared this idea in a recent podcast, which you can view on our YouTube channel. Just because I'm insulting you doesn't mean I can't promote our stuff.

But don't go there yet. Wait until I'm done calling you names.

By the way, Carrie was much nicer when she brought up the notion on the podcast. I, on the other hand, am choosing to paint with the broad brush. So there.

I really believe it's true, though. We writers are all resigned to sell out in at least one part of our lives in order to be "happy" and/or "successful." The life of an author requires a certain amount of fecal material that we're forced to plod through with a big smile because we're LIVING THE DREAM MAN!

No, you say? Well, you're wrong.

"But Rob, I love to write and I get to write everyday so everything is wonderful!"

Excuse me while I wait for the unicorns to finish flying out of your rectum.

Admit it. There's something you're forced to do on a regular basis that allows you to write, but you'd love to not have to deal with it.

Maybe it's marketing (personally, I dig that stuff, but some people don't). Maybe it's dealing with editors. Maybe it's that damn day job that is supporting your writing pursuits.

And maybe it's the writing itself. If you're being paid to write, you're producing for a specific market. This market is now your boss, and you're committed to writing for them, not for you. Sure, it's better than a life sentence in a cubicle, but you're still giving up a little bit of yourself when you put those words on the page. Congratulations, you're selling out.

Can't deal with that idea? Good, that's what the comment section is for. Just promise you'll read the rest of this first. I can't stand commenters who don't read an entire article.

For those who stayed (I like you), I'm not trying to dissuade an entire community of writers from pursuing their dreams. It's just a fact of this life that we all have to accept, and it may help you determine what your writing path is going to be. Currently, I'm a tremendous sell-out because I'm working a full-time job for the paycheck and benefits, freelancing as a voiceover artist for some extra cash, AND attempting to become a professional writer because I want to write. None of these pursuits are going to bring me intense personal happiness because I'm simply serving someone else in each case. However, I choose to sell out so I can satisfy the one part of my life that brings an endless amount of joy: my family. If I get to do some writing for myself on the side, then that's a bonus.

"Well, just quit your job and write from home."

Who are you and what planet kicked you out?

Sure, that's the romantic version of the story. The writer with a dream gives it all up and lives as a hermit to pursue a career, and yeah, that might have worked for me 15 years ago. But the dream didn't show up until a couple years after I bought a home, and just before my son was born.

Romance be damned! I have mouths to feed, so I'm going to sell out with a smile on my face. Besides, selling out lets me come home to this every day...

That's not fair. He's usually pretty happy.
I'm the one that's crying all the time.

If you don't like the idea of being a sell-out, that's fine. Just come up with a way to become a financially independent, million-selling author without giving up a little time or money in the interest of others. And once you figure that out, please share with the rest of us in the comments below, 'cause I got nothin'.

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In Which I Stop Submitting for Awhile

By Gayle Francis Moffet

Having recently written a post that breaks down the different kind of rejections a writer can receive and why none of them are bad, it may seem weird to admit that I'm hitting a point where I simply don't want to submit for awhile. Here's the thing:

• Finding markets that fit your work takes time.
• Waiting for responses from markets takes time.
• To really see the results of submitting, you have to keep up a steady stream of writing to continually send out.

The first two points are points I can generally work with. Finding markets and waiting to hear from them are part of the writing process to me, as I'm sure they are for many writers. You write. You edit. You submit. You wait. The problem I've been having lately is that while I'm still writing, I'm not writing anything I can submit.

You see, I've spent the last couple of months writing comics. Well, one comic that keeps getting longer (and more awesome), and comics don't require a submittal. In fact, ask around, and you'll be told the best way to break into comics in this day and age is to get a website, get an artist, and get your work online. The book publishing industry is still trying to decide how it feels about self-published writers, but people involved in the comics industry--both publishers and fans--realized a few decades ago that there's something to be done with self-publishing and that people who self-publish can tell amazing, interesting stories that are well worth their time and money.

I love this about comics; that it's a medium that not just encourages but recommends self-publishing as a viable option. Is it hard work? Of course. But it doesn't come with the stigma that self-publishing in book publishing does. You create your work. You put your work out there, and people will read your work without caveat. Fan of Hark a Vagrant? Self pub. Penny Arcade (NSFW most likely)? Self-pub. Basically, if you're reading a web comic, you're reading a self-published author.

And me? I found myself having to make a decision: I could split my time between writing stories for markets and working on comics, or I could just concentrate on comics, which seems to be what I want to write right now. It's not that I don't have ideas for short stories or poems or non-fiction pieces that could go to any number of markets; it's that, right now and for weeks now, all I've wanted to do is sit down and write comics.

And read them, of course.

I encourage you, if you find yourself writing a certain type of writing, to keep writing that. You'll get so much farther writing what interests you than writing what you expected yourself to write. I've known for awhile I wanted to write comics, and I assumed it would be in tandem with the other stories, but it turns out I just want to write comics with no qualifiers, and I'm having more fun even thinking about doing that than sitting down to write anything else.

So, I'm gonna do that (and this blog), and I hope you're having as much fun as I am.


Gayle Francis Moffet writes comics, it seems. Before she fell into that, she wrote some other stuff. She keeps a writing tumblr that has all the links to all that jazz. 

Forging Relationships With Other Writers

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by Kelly DeBie

For as much as writing is a solitary activity, requiring us to dig deep within ourselves and tap our inner resources, I’ve found that in many ways it is also a community.

A strange and beautiful community.

That community is the reason that I’m writing here today, at the urging and recommendation of Molly Field, a fellow writer that I’ve never met in person but seem to have more in common with than most people I’ve ever known in real life.

In the past year, I’ve reached out to other writers more.  Many writers have reached out to me.  The nature of blogging is, at it’s core, social.  Blogging is a platform for me to write, usually daily, and immediately share that writing with the world.

Due to the nature of the medium, it seems almost mandatory that a blogger utilize social networking sites.  It’s through these sites that I’ve established, fostered and grown the relationships that I now hold dear.  Those relationships are with the writers I now consider my kindred spirits.

These connections, the ones that often leave me nodding my head in agreement, are ones that I cherish more than I can say.  We aren’t just writers, we often share similar journeys in life.  We’ve known heartache and turmoil.  We have a depth of character and a level of experience that often seems unique to this tight-knit world.

We understand each other in a way that most people don’t.

I know that I’ve made some connections in this past year that have changed my writing.  Tested my abilities.  Pushed my limits, both in terms of subject matter and personal investment.  These friends have encouraged me to try new things, to take risks, to hold myself accountable when I set goals.  

They understand more than anyone how emotionally draining the act of writing can be, and at the same time realize that the therapeutic value of doing so often surpasses the pain.

They see the inherent value in vulnerability.  In revealing the things that we hold closest.

Often, I find myself running things by them before I’ll hit that *publish* button, partially to affirm that I’m doing this all for the right reasons, partially for the moral support, but most often to confirm that I’m not the only one floating around in the ocean of life with this experience.

When it comes to the actual writing, it’s me and my keyboard pounding it out.

Knowing that there are other people out there, typing away in the confines of their isolated worlds, yet wanting to be understood, is what keeps me going.

To my fellow writers, thank you.

The Hopelessly Romantic Writer (Emphasis on the "Hopeless" Part): A Micro Rant On Love, Loss, and Getting Through February Without Having a Complete Mental Breakdown

by Jody Aberdeen

All aboard the Bitter Train, with whistle-stops at Singlesville, Lonesome Prairie, and, you guessed it, the Heartbreak Hotel. Get your tickets out and hold on tight: this ride's gonna suck and we don't serve peanuts. (Wait, they do serve peanuts on trains, right? No? Well, they do now.)

I've never been a fan of February even before it became the unofficial "Love Month" after about a decade of chocolate hearts and exchanging Valentine's cards at school ("You Choo-Choo Choose Me", in keeping with the train theme). Even when I was in my relationship, the lead up to February 14th and even the rest of the month was just one giant bubble of peer pressure to out-romance the other couples in our networks.

Then, when I became single, and those couples disowned me (as couples tend to do when le divorce strikes their comrades), the new challenge became fending off the artificial pressure to find someone so I could have this perfect "Valentine's" moment, along with balancing my own feelings of loneliness.

Well, fie to all of that. Fie, I say!

Now, these aren't uncommon complaints, but as it happens, I am a writer and a creative person, and at the risk of sounding like a stereotype, my skin is thinner than most people, despite my best efforts at swagger and confidence when I'm out at parties or at my day job in retail.

And so having a holiday about love, sex, and romance that's grown, amoeba-like, from the 14th of the month into the month itself, I think I could be forgiven if it opens up a few things that I normally keep locked up under my bed the rest of the year.

Write For Catharsis

My first book, Convergence, is a science fiction romance, consisting of about 1/3 an old idea about soulmates and alternate dimensions, but 2/3 catharsis as I worked some psychological damage control after my marriage ended three years ago. As such, I have a track record of successfully processing out heavy emotions involving love and loss into a great piece of writing.

To that end, I've started an erotic sci-fi/horror story, hopefully finished by the end of next week, that will hopefully capture these feelings, honour them, and then put them somewhere safe and half-way productive, kind of like a carbon sequestration for the soul.

If the bad feels lead into a great story and get me a writing credit to boot, then it's almost worth it. Almost....

Sex Transmutation, Winter, and the Kobayashi Maru of Positive Thinking

Thing is, I'm not completely satisfied with writing catharsis, because around this time of year, the feelings run on this spin cycle, like a Superstorm Sandy of confluences between the winter weather outside (I read somewhere that NASA astronauts on long duration missions would experience similar emotions to SAD because of the lack of the colour green in their experience) and all of these feelings that Love Month drums up for me. Everything just swirls around until the spring, and the sky may be bright and blue one day, but get cloudy and sleeting the next.

Writing is indeed my One Thing that I'm going to be doing the rest of my life, regardless of pay and benefits, but when it becomes almost exclusively a tool for emotional stability rather than a creative outlet, it stops being fun, and then I just don't feel like doing it. That short story will probably miss its deadline unless I have some kind of turnaround on the inside.

But I'm also tired of my personal development practices that tell me to be positive all the time just like that: to me, that's a dishonouring of my authenticity. Sure, I'll get back there, but I have to process first.

Yet still, I have to be careful not to start re-ingesting the crap I've been venting out (sorry for the image, but it's the only way to describe it accurately), which then just feeds the cycle.

The whole thing is a little like the Kobayashi Maru (watch Star Trek II or even the J.J. Abrams movie if you don't get the reference). Nothing really to do but keep going. That's the key: persistence.

Interestingly, our fearless leader Carrie Bailey recently mentioned Napoleon Hill's Think and Grow Rich. There's a chapter on "Persistence" that I read over and over again when I'm on my upswing. Check it out if you haven't, as well as the chapter called "The Mystery of Sex Transmutation", which I recently blogged about on my site and which is in keeping with Love Month.

Life vs Fiction

(Audible sigh). I guess I don't know how to end this mini rant. At one of my writer's guild meetings before Christmas, we had a deep conversation about if many writers become torn between creating interesting characters and becoming them. Hemingway is the chief archetype of this idea, but you look at the lives of most writers in the English language, and you see this Bohemian blend, contrasting stripes of tragedy, emotional instability, privilege and poverty, and almost always a touch of otherwordly inspiration: all traits that themselves are worthy of novels.

Yesterday, I saw The Words starring Dennis Quaid and Bradley Cooper, one of the finest and accurate (and devastating) movies made in recent years about the reality of becoming a career author. Near the end, someone says the following line: 'You have to choose between life and fiction. The two are very close, but almost never touch."

More than most, Love Month makes me highly self conscious, which hurts my ability to write about anything else other than my own life, one that isn't nearly as interesting or as relevant as Hemingway's, I'll admit (though it would make a fantastic comedy of errors, I'll admit, perhaps starring George Lopez as my older, wiser self).

As always, though, I have my vocation to get me through the winter, at times like these I can't help but think about the improvements I need to make in my life, especially in the romance department: putting myself out there again, taking down that ten foot wall around my heart or at least expediting the search for the girl with an eleven foot ladder cleverly concealed in her deceptively small purse. Or, possibly just dropping the pursuit altogether and seeing what else I can do to fulfil myself.

I'll be fine come the spring, honestly, but for now, I do what I was born to do, and write my present truth in fiction.

(This is the part where I'm supposed to refer back to the train metaphor I started with, but I'll leave my fellow Peevish citizens to do that...what do you guys think?  Try to make it end on a high note: this is admittedly a downer post).


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