Unfortunately today I am not able to sit and craft an interesting blog as I have to run off to a conference. This happens on a semi-regular basis. It’s mildly annoying as I particularly wanted to follow up on yesterday’s discussion with a look at the plagiarism of ancient poets. That’ll just have to wait until tomorrow, I guess.
So, instead, I’m going to leave you with someone else’s blog. Yes, I know that’s cheating. But it also touches on the subject of yesterday, so it’s kind of allowed. For Sarah Hoyt’s full blog, go here.
You are allowed to write escapist science fiction – or fantasy. Sometimes we just need a good read. If it doesn’t have a big idea but is enjoyable, it’s still a worthy endeavor.
You are allowed to write first person. You are also allowed to write second person, third person, and in persons yet to be invented. As long as your work is entertaining, we hold you harmless in matters relating to verbal malfeasance.
You can write male heros. You can write female heros. You can write alien heros. You can write human heros. You can write western heros. You can write non-western heros. You can write squirrel-heros (but you have to know you’re weird.) You can write it in a boat, you can write it with a goat (but which end do you hold on the paper?) You can write it in a moat (but it will probably drip) and you can write it on a stoat.
You can have a happy ever after. You can have a happy for a while. You can have a fleeting happy. It’s your happy and you can have it if you want to.
Your writing shouldn’t leave anyone feeling like they should scrub with pumice or commit suicide through swallowing stoats for the crime of being human, or like humans are a blight upon the Earth, or that the future is dark, dreary, evil and fraught with nastiness, because that’s all humans can do, and woe is us.
You shall not commit grey goo. Grey goo, in which characters of indeterminate moral status move in a landscape of indeterminate importance towards goals that will leave no one better or worse off is not entertaining. (Unless it is to see how the book bounces off the far wall, and that has limited entertainment. Also, I’m not flinging my kindle.)
You will not be boring. Or at least you’ll do your best not to be boring. You shall not spend your life explaining why your not-boring is better than your fellow writers not-boring. Instead you will shut up and write.
Comments, suggestions, goats? Stoats? Oranges? Peanuts? Lightly thrown chickens? (What? I find thrown chickens humorous. No, I don’t know why. Oh, please, I’m a writer. Like I have the money for a psychiatrist.)