The champagne popped, the ball dropped, and New Year’s is behind us. Now that we’re firmly in the frigid grip of a new January, it’s time for some updates.
I normally don’t go in for New Year’s resolutions, but with my year of short stories now complete, it feels like a good time to reevaluate my writing, the blog, and my goals.
New Monthly Goals
With my serial novel Razor Mountain, I spent two years focused on a single project and eventually ended up burned out. My 2024 year of short stories allowed me to pursue a looser goal where I could work on a variety of different short stories.
In 2025, I’d like to work on something I’ve long struggled with: output. Between my day job and my family, I’m a fairly busy person. I’m also a natural procrastinator, and I know that I often need deadlines (even if they’re artificial ones) to get things done. Previous years’ projects have helped me focus and finish things, but I’m always dogged by the desire to get more done.
My initial idea for 2025 was a simple daily word count, fairly low so I could get used to it. At the beginning of January I decided I would write about a page per day—250 words. My January has already been a little crazy, and I’ve only written on about 50% of the days so far, but I have managed to “catch up” the days I missed, and I’ve stuck to my overall page-per-day requirement. I expect to have at least two short story drafts finished by the end of the month, which is very good for me.
However, I’m already seeing a problem with this word count quota. It’s getting me to write those first drafts, but I’m going to be kicking the can on revisions. I already had Red Eyes revisions carried over from last year, and now I’ll have at least two other drafts that need to be critiqued and polished.
So, instead of carrying my page-per-day goal through the whole year, I’ll only commit to it in January. When February rolls around, I’ll pick a new daily goal, like fifteen minutes of revisions per day. This flexibility will hopefully keep me productive, while allowing me to adjust my goals throughout the year.
The Return of Razor Mountain
That flexibility also gives me the opportunity to do something I’ve been thinking about for a while. I “finished” Razor Mountain in the sense that it’s a complete story, but it could be better. I’ve had some time away from it, and I’m excited to bring it back in 2025. I haven’t decided how much time I’ll spend, but I do plan to start working on revisions again.
The whole point of Razor Mountain was to document the process of writing a novel, so I will also continue that tradition by posting all the details of my process, my struggles, and my successes.
More Short Stories
I really enjoyed writing and submitting short stories in 2024, so I plan to dedicate a large amount of my time this year to writing even more of them. I think writing short stories has helped me improve my writing significantly. I love being able to get feedback on something small and self-contained, and I’ve learned almost as much from critiquing other people’s stories.
More Bloggy Stuff?
I don’t yet know how much of my short story work will show up on the blog. I know I’m having a good time, but I suspect my weekly recaps aren’t the most riveting content. In 2025, I’ll probably be more judicious and only post about short stories when I have some bigger topic to talk about.
I will continue some of my long-running series like monthly Read Reports and the Story Idea Vault. I have a backlog of narrative video games to play for my “Games for People Who Prefer to Read” series. I might even perform some necromancy and revive a few of my older posts with new commentary and expanded ideas.
I do sometimes miss the days of years past when I would consistently post here 2-3 times per week. I’d love to say that I’ll be more active like that again, but I think I’d be lying. I just don’t have the bandwidth to do that while pursuing my other writing projects. Still, I love the blog, and I greatly appreciate the folks who continue to stop by. I still expect to post at least once per week.
What About You?
I’m curious if you have any New Year’s writing resolutions. What’s working, what’s not, and what do you plan to change? Let me know in the comments.
The final month of 2024 has come and gone. As usual, I’m reading too many books at once. As a result, I have only one to discuss for December. Luckily I have a lot to say.
Where possible, I include Bookshop affiliate links instead of Amazon. If any of these books pique your interest, please use those links. I’ll get a tiny commission, and you’ll support real book stores instead of longevity injections for billionaires.
I finally finished reading the “His Dark Materials” trilogy with my kids. Unfortunately, the cracks in the story that were apparent in the second book caused the whole thing to fall apart in the third.
Trilogies and longer series are interesting. They are weightier than a single, self-contained book. Each book in a series needs to function at least partly on its own, while a larger arc plays out across all of them. However, readers are also willing to give the author some grace in a series; just because something is unresolved or unclear in one book doesn’t mean it won’t resolve by the end of the series. I continued reading to give Pullman a chance to make it all work.
Unfortunately, when the mysteries, confusing bits, and strange motivations don’t resolve by the end, you run into the “LOST” phenomenon (or Game of Thrones, if you prefer a more recent reference). Rabid fans can instantly sour on it due to an unsatisfying ending. All of that willingness to forgive goes away when the series ends and the problems remain. And that’s how I feel about His Dark Materials.
I usually try to avoid talking negatively about stories, books, and other media. After all, I haven’t published a successful trilogy, right? There are certainly things to criticize in my own work. That said, I think this trilogy is a showcase for a number of things that every author should try to avoid. So I will be a bit harsh on His Dark Materials, in order to better understand why it doesn’t work for me.
The Hook
Critically, I think the first book, The Golden Compass, is pretty good. In fact, I would recommend it as a book to read on its own. For what it’s worth, my kids also thought that the first book was good, while the second and third were “confusing.”
The Golden Compass introduces a main character, Lyra; the antagonist, Mrs. Coulter; the mysterious Lord Asriel (Villain? Ally?), and quite a few interesting, but less rounded characters that help Lyra on her way. Lyra has a clear quest—to rescue her friend from Mrs. Coulter—and understandable motivations. She has clear character traits, being clever and almost reflexively anti-authority, and happily willing to lie when it serves her or just seems like a good time. The setting is an alternate history Britain with a dash of steampunk sensibility, where everyone has their own soul-bound animal companion. It manages to feel both fresh and familiar.
Lyra sets out on her quest, collects allies, learns about the world, and makes a number of choices (both good and bad) in her efforts to rescue her friend. It’s a well-worn story arc, but that’s because it works.
The book is not without its weaknesses, as Lyra overcomes most challenges a little too easily and practically every secondary character she encounters quickly vows to help her even at the cost of life and limb.
The story ultimately ends in tragedy, as Lyra goes to the ends of the earth only to fail at the last moment. This also resolves that open question of whether Asriel is villain or good guy. The result is a satisfying resolution to this book—the end of Lyra’s quest—while providing an open question that leads us into the next two books: just what is Asriel up to?
Book Two Problems
The second book, The Subtle Knife, immediately steps away from the setting of the first book, and introduces a new main character: Will Parry. Lyra soon follows, but her agency in this book is so diminished that she’s practically a secondary character. It’s jarring. Even more problematic is that neither Will nor Lyra have very clear motivations or goals.
The children certainly both have problems, but neither of them have plans to try and resolve them. They go from place to place, exploring a brand new world and facing its dangers, but this meandering doesn’t have the sense of going anywhere purposeful. They acquire the namesake of the book, the Subtle Knife, completely by accident.
Mrs. Coulter is back as the villain. New characters are introduced, both allies and enemies, but this also seems haphazard. Characters from the first book reappear, but they feel as though they are pushed into their necessary positions by deus ex machina, strictly to perform actions and say words that advance the plot.
This book ups the stakes by killing off two characters, but the emotional sting is blunted by how absurd these deaths are. One character dies at the hands of someone barely seen, for a silly reason mentioned once in passing. The other dies nobly, to protect Lyra, but only because he completely forgot that he had a “get out of jail free” card that was inconvenient to the plot.
The book ends in what ought to be a cliffhanger. Lyra has been captured by villainous forces, and separated from this book’s protagonist, Will. Will has just lost the father he wasn’t even sure was alive, and decides (like most everyone else in the series) that he must help and protect Lyra.
Then, suddenly, some angels appear.
A Limp Ending
This is how we arrive at the third book, The Amber Spyglass. It’s nearly as long as the first two books combined, and it has a lot of explaining to do.
This book contains most of the anti-religious sentiment and outright blasphemy that has made Pullman so hated by Christian groups, and it’s unfortunate that his vitriol ends up channeled into decidedly bland villains with no redeeming characteristics and no desires beyond total power. Heaven is ruled by a powerful angel with a lust for control, and he sends the armies of angels and human believers across many different worlds to do his bidding, which mostly involves killing everyone who doesn’t fall in line.
This leaves us with three villains. The book implies a change of heart for Mrs. Coulter and Azriel, but they’ve done nothing to earn it. In the most perplexing twist of them all, these three supposedly mismatched villains end up in a brawl and fall into an abyss together. It’s not even the climax of the story—the book continues for more than a hundred pages afterward. The supposed protagonists, Will and Lyra, aren’t present for the fight, and have nothing to do with it.
Since the story can’t wrap up with a final battle between good and evil, or the characters overcoming some major challenge, it instead ends with heartbreak. It turns out our protagonists are in love, but they can’t be together. Pullman does a pretty good job dropping hints about Will and Lyra’s feelings for one another, even if it’s not very subtle. But the reasons why they can’t be together feel flimsy, at best. Pullman must have thought so too, because he spends a significant number of pages on the characters coming up with all the reasons why they have to end up apart.
Maybe I’m a jaded old guy, but this conclusion of love lost didn’t tug very hard at my heartstrings. How tragic can it really be for someone to not end up with their middle-school sweetheart? It’s implied that they’ll pine away for the rest of their lives…but…why? How many of us end up with our first crush?
Lessons Learned
Know your protagonist, and set your readers’ expectations accordingly. This series sets up Lyra as the protagonist, but by the end she’s little more than a bystander. Will takes over the mantle, but even he fails to have much influence on the events of the story. Readers expect the main characters to make a difference. The arc of the story is their arc.
Plot with purpose. It doesn’t matter whether you’re an outliner or an exploratory writer, either can work. But every scene and chapter should be there for a reason. Each character should have motivations and goals. Ideally these all work together to bring the story toward a conclusion that feels inevitable without feeling forced.
Stay focused. Novels are huge projects, and trilogies are even bigger. It’s easy to go down cul-de-sacs by exploring interesting ideas or building characters that aren’t really necessary. The fantastic idea that doesn’t fit in the book is just as important to cut as a bad idea. As they say, kill your darlings (or at least save them for another story, where they belong).
What I’m Reading in January
I’m working through the massive historical epic comic, Katusha; the final Witcher book; and some sci-fi short stories. See you next month!
It’s a common misconception that a great idea makes a great story. The truth is that most great stories come down to execution. A great idea with poor execution rarely works, but a great writer can breathe new life into even the most tired tropes.
Like any writer, I have my own treasure trove of ideas that might end up in a story…someday. But why horde them? Instead, I’m opening the vault and setting them free.
Feel free to use these ideas as a weekly writing prompt, or come up with your own twist and reply in the comments.
Idea of the Week – Post-Apocalyptic Cookbook
Something has gone badly wrong in the world. Perhaps it was a natural disaster, or global warming, or nuclear war. Whatever happened, the old human societies fell apart. Those that remain live in small tribes, struggling for survival in a hostile world.
But enough about that. I’m hungry. We all are.
In this new dark age, one person travels the globe, braving the dangers of the wilds to make contact with all the remnants of human civilization and ask them that age old question: “What’s for dinner?”
Their post-apocalyptic cookbook is a collection of anecdotes and recipes that reveal the lives people live and the meals they eat in the shadow of destruction. Mutant plants? Giant cockroaches? Cans of creamed corn from some Silicon Valley billionaire’s ruined fallout shelter?
2024 is my year of short stories. In this weekly series, I talk about the stories I’m working on, from idea and draft to submission.
The Final Tally
Stories – 7
Submissions this year – 35 (5 still out)
Acceptances – 1
Rejections – 29 (11 higher tier)
Thus ends my Year of Short Stories.
Looking at these numbers, I do wish I had gotten more stories out the door, and I would have loved to get more acceptances. However, I think this is an excellent starting point. If nothing else, I have had a ton of fun writing and submitting stories, and I feel very comfortable with the process now.
The only thing I can do to increase that acceptance count is to write more stories to the best of my ability and continue sending them out.
Refining the Process
Prior to this year, I wrote short stories haphazardly, when an idea struck me and kept my interest. I submitted pieces occasionally, but I never pursued it with any seriousness.
This year, I took it seriously. I polished up a couple of finished stories and wrote several more. I sent stories through Critters critique, while submitting more than 50 of my own critiques of others’ work. I revised those stories far more than anything I have written before.
I know that many authors will grind their teeth while thinking about submitting their work to publishers, but I will argue that this is important practice. Internalizing the standard formatting, writing your own biographical blurb, and learning to write a cover letter—however brief—is valuable. Adjusting all of it to a publisher’s expectations is also important experience.
Today’s technology makes it possible to write alone, revise alone, and publish instantly. I don’t think that’s the way to produce great work, and the long tail of Amazon e-books is evidence of it. The old stereotype of the reclusive author is the exception, not the rule. Creativity is a feedback loop, and that means authors who want to take their craft seriously need to develop professional skills (like selling themselves and their work), and seek honest and tough feedback to actively improve.
Getting a story published by a small website; or a big podcast; or a top-tier, pro-payment magazine tells you something about what you’ve written. “This isn’t quite what we’re looking for” rejections and “send us more of your stuff” rejections are little puzzle pieces that slowly assemble themselves into way markers for future stories.
The indie publishing pundits loves to rag on all the gatekeepers of traditional publishing, and I don’t think anyone should feel beholden to the gatekeepers. But I do think that your writing will become a lot stronger if you push yourself to write stories that can compete with hundreds of other submissions in a slush pile, and catch the eye of jaded, chain-smoking editors who have read more stories in the past year than most of us read in our lifetimes.
That editor doesn’t get to unilaterally decide what’s a good story and what isn’t. But if you can’t find anyone immersed in stories who really likes the thing you’ve written, then it might be time to revise it, or set it aside and write the next thing.
Publishing stories the traditional also way forces you to find your audience. You have to learn what kind of readers and editors like the stuff you’re writing, and that’s incredibly valuable information if you want to get your stories in front of readers who will love them.
The Joy of Short Stories
I love novels, and I’m sure they account for the vast majority of the words I’ve read in my lifetime. Unfortunately, writing a novel is like slaying a giant—it’s not the best thing to try when you’re still learning how to swing a sword.
This past year of experience has confirmed for me that writing short stories is a fantastic way to improve my writing quickly. Writing short stories allows me to jump between genres, to try out new characters and new settings. I can spend a few thousand words with an idea and then let it go. The price of failure is low, and the joy of experimentation is sky-high.
Writing short stories and actively submitting them means I’m exercising all of my authorial muscles. I’m jumping between first drafts, revisions, critiques, and submissions. I’m constantly iterating and incorporating feedback into individual works, but also into my process as a whole.
Rejection and Acceptance
The final takeaway that I have from the past year of writing short stories is more of a Zen attitude toward my own work.
Writing is often incredibly personal. We joke about our stories being like our children. But that kind of protective love makes it harder to improve. It’s hard to take negative feedback on a story if you think of it as your baby. It’s hard to take rejection.
Luckily, the easiest way to overcome those feelings is through brute force. Write lots of stories. Get as much criticism as you can, and then improve them. Send them out, and get rejected, repeatedly. By the time you’ve built up your own little one-person story factory, those pointed critiques start to be fun, because they provide opportunities to make the story better. The rejections roll off your back, and you submit again and move on.
I recently listened to David Sedaris on a podcast, and he said one of the keys to his success was never confusing the writing with the publishing. Ironically, I think the best way to internalize that sentiment is to be repeatedly rejected by publishers.
If you really want to, you can try to follow the market trends. You can improve your odds of publication by submitting to venues that fit your work, and submitting relentlessly. Trying to get paid is hard. Every submission is a job interview with hundreds or thousands of applicants.
And yet, if you already love the writing, getting paid is just a bonus.
Goals for 2025
My Year of Short Stories may be done, but my short story writing will continue. If anything, I’d like to finish more stories this year than I did in 2024. After all, the story factory is built, and I have no shortage of ideas.
Of course, I’d like to get a few more stories published in the upcoming year as well, but I have less control over that. So I’ll just keep submitting.
As 2024 comes to a close, I’ve reached a shocking milestone: 500 posts. Words Deferred started as an experiment in trying to write (and think about writing) more, and has become an integral part of my life. It’s strange to remember a time when I wasn’t documenting my writing and putting my thoughts out onto the internet.
I don’t normally go back and read my old posts, but I decided to use this occasion to peruse those 500 posts and see what stood out.
2020
I started Words Deferred in the autumn of 2020, almost exactly a decade after blogs stopped being cool. (Of course, blogs are still around, but like everything else on the internet they now have to live on a platform like Medium or Substack.) Looking back at those early days, I really didn’t know what I was going to be writing, but had some ideas: posts about technique, serialized fiction, and…live-streaming writing sessions?
I haven’t streamed anything, and I probably never will, but those other two categories were the core content of this site for quite some time. I quickly started the Reference Desk series about tools and resources for writers, which eventually grew to twenty-one entries. I also began to experiment with posts about craft and technique in those first few months, like Outlining vs. Exploratory Writing, Writing Spikes, and Guessing the Future for Science Fiction.
2021
Around the end of 2020, I also began working on Razor Mountain, my episodic sci-fi mystery novel. I eventually wrote 47 “pre-production” development journals that covered the process of outlining a novel, crafting a book description and author bio, and making a cover image. I began actually writing and posting chapters of Razor Mountain in late 2021, and continued the development journals as I went.
The other things I did in 2021 were mostly to get a break from planning and writing Razor Mountain. I played around with the shortest of short stories: microfiction and drabbles. I was looking for good writing blogs on WordPress, and started posting reblogs as a result of that. I began a sporadic series about Games for People who Prefer to Read, and started my tradition of the State of the Blog.
2022
I have always been leery of traditional reviews, and I’ve struggled to find interesting ways to discuss the things I was reading. In 2022, that mostly took the form of X Things I Learned from Y posts. Later in the year, I incorporated that into my Storytelling Class series where I discussed different aspects of writing fiction with my daughter.
I continued posting Razor Mountain chapters and the corresponding development journals through all of 2022, making it about halfway through the book by the end of the year.
I posted the final chapter of Razor Mountain in the summer of 2023. Razor Mountain was a huge project, and I knew it would require a ton of revision to get into a state where I could consider it properly done. I also knew that the way it was developed would make it challenging to sell in traditional publishing, and I didn’t find self-publishing it very appealing. After posting the final chapter, I collected some feedback and began revisions, but I was feeling burned out and eventually decided to step away from the project.
Further evolution of book reviews resulted in a new format, the read reports. I also somehow managed to complete a full NaNoWriMo while writing daily updates, which was likely my heaviest month of writing since starting this website.
2024
This year, I cut back significantly on my posting schedule, and I’m on track for about 1/2 the wordcount of previous years. That was mainly to allow for more non-blog writing time.
That non-blog writing time was devoted primarily to the Year of Short Stories, a project that allowed me to really mix up my writing life. Not only could I write many different stories in different styles, but I could break up my time between first drafts; critique and revisions; and submissions. It was a great year of writing, and it only made me more excited to continue writing short stories.
Other content this year included a solidification of the format of Read Reports with a monthly cadence.
I had long considered some sort of brainstorming or writing prompt series, and that finally manifested as the Story Idea Vault.
Statistics
Finally, I like to be open with my data, just in case it’s interesting to others. Here are some statistics from a little over 4 years of blogging.
Posts: 500
Total Wordcount: 439,000
Views: 15,770 (not counting WP Reader or email subs, as far as I can tell)
Visitors: 11,468 (again, not counting Reader or email)
Most Posts in a Month: 29 in Nov. 2023 (for NaNoWriMo)
What’s Next?
The end of my Year of Short Stories and the start of 2025 means it’s time to think about change. I’m currently thinking about my writing New Year’s resolutions and how I want to schedule my work over the next year. I’ll talk more about that in an upcoming post.
Words Deferred 