“Experts tend to fill their novels with esoteric information that gets in the way of the story, so choose your atmospheric/tech descriptions wisely…Because what the vast majority of people want is good stories. They couldn’t care less about the science. Readers want realistic characters, not realistic science.”
— author Gordon Long on “Why Scientists Shouldn’t Write Science Fiction”
You have to balance writing what you want and writing to market.
Nathan Bransford suggests how.
John Green’s thoughts on failure.
“Uncomfortable, but productive.”
Summer in the Air
Time is so strange and life is twice as strange
You’re only you, here, now — the present you
Some people turn sad awfully young
Old people never were children
You do things and don’t watch
Shadows running around in the air
Why not let nature show you a few things?
But you got to look at grapes as well as watermelons
Cutting grass and pulling weeds can be a way of life, son
You’ve time to seek and find. No person ever died that had a family
This fine first cool white snow would never melt,
But live a thousand summers
The title and lines are from Ray Bradbury’s “Dandelion Wine” — a book for all times.
“The words were summer on the tongue. The wine was summer caught and stoppered.”
You think your idea is safe? Think again.
Author Pamela Jane shares her story.
His numerous books were rejected by publishers for twenty years, but he went on writing. Be persistent.
When traditional publishing didn’t work out, he turned to self-publishing, and did great. Be open-minded.
He still prefers to work on his cow and sheep farm, and writes at night, or whenever there’s time. Be yourself.
“Never shall I forget that night, the first night in camp, which has turned my life into one long night, seven times cursed and seven times sealed. Never shall I forget that smoke. Never shall I forget the little faces of the children, whose bodies I saw turned into wreaths of smoke beneath a silent blue sky. Never shall I forget those flames which consumed my faith forever. Never shall I forget that nocturnal silence which deprived me, for all eternity, of the desire to live. Never shall I forget those moments which murdered my God and my soul and turned my dreams to dust. Never shall I forget these things, even if I am condemned to live as long as God Himself. Never.”
— Elie Wiesel, “Night”