The Thing

By Brian Butler

How many times have you sat down to write with that blank receptacle before you and yet nothing to plug into it? A common occurrence for many of us, I am sure, yet the passion to write continues to lure us. The void stares back at you, emotionless and cold, but still begging for input, silently crying for existence. And you possess the power to grant it, to create something out of nothing. Much like mad scientists, we as writers are drawn by the ability to conceive our own Frankensteins, giving birth through our fingertips.

When words are put to the page, the creature begins to take on unique characteristics, traits only this monster owns. As days pass and it is fed more and more words, it begins to stand on its own. It grows from its barren space to a starving infant craving nourishment and attention. It feeds relentlessly. Spawned from the depths of our brain, it becomes one of our offspring, developing a distinct personality blended from our experiences and imagination. We start to care for this…thing.

The monster continues to grow and becomes its own entity, gorging on our time. Its greedy voice speaks to us on an unconscious level as it evolves. We respond with all the love such a child needs to develop into a healthy adult. But soon, it becomes too large to contain.

To retain command, we assign schedules and ration its intake to keep the beast from spinning out of control.

The creature rebels.

It is used to over-indulging, taking all we can give. It has had no set of laws to follow to this point. With a life of its own, the progeny stops communicating, punishment for the application of rules. Alone, we slump into a state of apathy. The roles have reversed, and now instead of us being the care-giver, we look to our creation to fulfill our needs. We look for it to give in return.

But it doesn’t. It won’t. It can’t.

It is up to us to continue the relationship, to reconnect and finish what we started. Without us, creations such as these will never reach maturity. They will sit dormant in drawers and in closets and in dead computer memories. They will become abandoned orphans whose creators were too cruel to put them out of their misery.

Be a good parent. Stay in touch with your brood. Feed them incessantly at birth to bring them to a healthy life. Then mold them with subtle refinements. Yes, rules are necessary, but do not let them confine you or condemn your offspring. Instead use them as guidelines to bring your creations to success, where they can survive on their own, and be introduced to the world, not as a monster, but as a beautiful work of art for all to adore.

The Perfect Time to Write

By Brian Butler

Authors often ask each other what time of day they find the most productive to write. The answers always vary from early morning hours to after I’ve had at least three stiff drinks, following Hemingway’s logic—write drunk, edit sober.

I’ve never asked that question because to me, it is a personal preference. It has nothing to do with the time of day but everything to do with your state of mind.

For example, I am more productive in the mid-morning hours. I find it easier to write before becoming completely active and awake, helping me concentrate my focus on the topic at hand. Being a night owl at heart, I’m not very lively in the morning. After I do wake, I just do not feel much like conversing with anyone and would rather write. All the jumbled thoughts from the day before have settled into place and I am more at peace, until I’m interrupted. Sometimes I go for hours before that happens and sometimes it’s only a matter of minutes. If it’s the latter, I then struggle through the rest of the day trying to squeeze in time to get my thoughts down before they’re tossed into the air and jumbled once again. Many times this circus runs well into the evening, at which point I am much more awake and therefore, less focused and less productive. When I get too far along into the day, I find other obligations that begin to fight for time and brain space in an already clouded head, thereby leaving less grey matter for creativity.

But that’s me.

The idea that there is a more perfect time for you to write than any another really cannot be decided by anyone but you. It depends on the type of person you are. Pay attention to the points of the day (or night) when you feel everything falling into place, when your head is free of its obligations and able to drift. With any luck, this will coincide with a time when you can focus those thoughts onto nothing but your story… and that will be your perfect time to write.

Brian Butler

I've been editing and revising my dark, urban fantasy novel, D1SORD3R, for much longer than it took me to write it. The more I work on it, the more it haunts me. I'm reminded of what Winston Churchill once said about writing a novel: "To begin with, it was a toy, an amusement; then it became a mistress, then a master and then a tyrant."

And a tyrant it has become, occupying every spare moment of my life. To stay sane, I have taken small breaks to pen several short stories--although one has been growing into a novella on its own accord.

I also have another suspense novel, which I am smack dab in the middle of writing and hope to have complete by the end of the year. I have outlined eight more book ideas, so I don't see the madness ending anytime soon.