Bird by Bird, by Anne Lamott

[sophia_sol]

This is a writing advice book. And, like, it's a perfectly fine writing advice book? Says plenty of good and right things. But on the other hand, idk, writing advice books just do not turn my crank. So it was well-written enough that I read the whole thing anyways, but I didn't feel like I actually got anything out of it.

It doesn't help that the author is clearly writing to an audience of people for whom "writing" is "writing literary fiction and/or memoirs" which is....extremely far away from the kind of writing I like to do. So as I read the book I was analyzing the advice for whether it could help me with the fic I most recently got stuck on (a caper involving Vetinari and sparkledeath, which I am 150 words into and can get no further because I don't know how to write capers) and pretty much none of it was helpful. It was all about, like, drawing on your childhood and writing emotionally true things about people being people, and about writing as a career goal. Which is all very well, but does not help with writing comedy fanfic about a fictional representation of death and his sparkly cheekbones.

Comments

[sophia-sol.livejournal.com]

I really wish this fic existed too! But I really have no idea what would help bring it into being. Like, I have literally never in my life written anything with actual plot and I don't know how to start.

[carmarthen.livejournal.com]

I'm fine at starting plots. Finishing them, uhhhhh.

What was the concept?

[sophia-sol.livejournal.com]

I'm just as bad at starting plots! Pretty much all I have is death showing up for Vetinari because it's Vetinari's time to be dead, and Vetinari's all "one moment let me finish a thing first."

Actually let me just quote at you the entirety of what I have written in the file, ending note to self and all:



For reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture, Discworld's Death was on vacation and a replacement was borrowed from a different dimension. The new Death was... different. Not skeletal, didn't carry a scythe, very sparkly, had a tendency to get attached to mortals. -- Er. More attached to mortals.

This could go poorly for the mortal in question.

It could also go poorly for Death.

Vetinari looked up from his paperwork with a mild expression which didn't change at the sight of Death's cheekbones. "Oh, " he said, "do take a seat. I should be finished here soon."

Then he turned back to his desk and seemed to entirely forget Death was in the room.

Death was not used to this kind of treatment. He was fascinated. "It's time, mortal," he said -- but without looking up Vetinari simply raised a bony finger. One moment.



Pretty sure this needs to turn into some kind of caper where Death is dragged along in figuring out a Dastardly Plot with Vetinari, and the fic ends with Vetinari still not dead and Death utterly confused about everything that just happened.