Ethelie
Welcome, my Friends.
For hundreds of Years, the Fiction-Writing Directorate has toiled Ceaselessly (and Thanklessly) in the Shadows. We have Convinced countless Writers to Write, through means both Orthodox and Un. We have battled fierce Word-Urchins, with little more than our Wits, our Swords, and our Flame-Throwers.
Always, though, our chief Method has been Secrecy. The subtle Strength of Whispers has been ours. The implacable Tenacity of your Shadow has been ours. The deadly Stealth of deep-sea Predators has been ours.
But no more.
This is a new era, I am told. We must be open! Authentic! It is no longer Enough to save the World from Unspeakable Horrors; we must also have a Manifesto and build a Tribe. We must have Twitter accounts.
So be it. Never let it be said that I feared a Challenge. I shall lead the Fiction-Writing Directorate into the Twenty-First Century.
The New Fiction-Writing Directorate
(At least I was able to Prevent my Superiors from calling this Venture iDirectorate 2.0.)
I have hand-picked several Spectacularly talented Directorate agents from among the Senior staff, and each of these will Share their Wisdom with you in a series of Web-Log Posts. I trust that you will find their words Informative and Inspiring. They will introduce themselves this week.
We will offer Training Exercises each Week-Day. These Exercises will strengthen your Auctorial Muscles, and allow you to more easily Write.
But most importantly, O my Brave New Agents, the new Directorate will work to Inspire you by making you aware of the Consequences of your Recalcitrance.
What is your Plan?
So tell me, my little Petunias. What are you going to Write this week? Post your Mission in the Comments, for all to See. On Saturday, I will ask for your Progress.
I beg of you, do not Fail to write. For the Verbhounds are always Hungry. Write, my little Teapots, write.
This week I want to finally figure out how to transition from my prologue into the story for the novel-that-has-no-name-yet. It doesn’t have to be a whole chapter. But something. Some kind of segue from the future into the past…
I would like to finish the outline or rough sketch of my novel, and then begin writing it.
Agent Emily: Will you have this Transition written? Or merely Imagined? The Verbhounds, I fear, will not find an Imagined version very Compelling. Plot your course Wisely.
Agent Sean: You would Like to? Or you Will? Take a Stand, my little Armadillo, and make it Happen, for there are worse Things than “Writer’s Block.”
Subsiste sermonem statim et scribe!
Oh good question Ethelie! Written. It will be written. In fact, first draft IS written now!
I would like to promise myself to start and finish the six-week plan in The Artist’s Way, beginning today.
Director, I am here to report. This week I shall take on the danger-fraught Mission to complete a draft of the perfidiously slippery short I’ve been laboring at for nigh-on a year.
Driven by a maddening External Deadline, I shall be away from Directorate offices for this week, unable to complete the Training Exercises. But lest you think me a shirker, I hereby swear to return triumphant, short story ms in hand, and join my fellow agents in the Exercises in one week.
–Agent “Sagebrush”
Agent Emily is now Safe. The VerbHounds will not Devour her Limbs.
Agent Eva: We look forward to your Triumphant Return.
Agent C.S.: Indeed! You will be cast into the Pit of Scorpions if you do not Complete your program of gentle Exploration, Nurturing, and Creative Blossoming. Begin! Immediately! Nurture yourself as if the very Hounds of Hell are snapping at your Heels.
Just write then think about it.
I have returned! My draft is done and submitted to the workshop. It’s not the glorious, beautiful creation I dreamed of, but it is a real draft, and it is done.
Whew! I’m exhausted.