I plot ahead of time. I usually have a shot list of scenes that will get me to the end, and then I write my way through each scene. If the story is thin, I’ll add some scenes to help connect the major points, or flesh out a character. I have to work out the plot before I write because I find it too confusing to tell the story and work out where it’s going at the same time. That feels like multi-tasking to me, and I’m easily frustrated. If I feel like I don’t know where my story is going, I can easily become overwhelmed and get lost on the internet in full retreat. I need to break my story down into discrete steps and small goals to keep myself focused and prevent panic.
Do you have a writing mentor or inspiration?
I enjoy the podcasts Starship Sofa, and The Functional Nerds. Those are both great for keeping up with stories, ideas, and TV shows that are good. I’m always looking for more sources, especially for independently published fiction. I attended Viable Paradise, a Science Fiction and Fantasy writing workshop and I learned a ton while I was there. It really helped me understand how to write science fiction and fantasy for an audience and I’d recommend applying for anyone who wants to spend some time with great writers and editors and learn about the work.
When and how did you first become interested in writing?
When I was a kid, I remember sitting with a neighborhood friend and making up stories to pass the time. I was probably 13 or 14 and I realized then that I wanted to be a writer. I loved being able to let my mind run, and I loved the feeling of being in a new place that was being invented word by word. Since then, I feel most comfortable when I’m reading a story and it takes me over. I love the feeling of immersion in a world that was utterly constructed by an author. I seldom feel that way as a writer, but that is a feeling I want to provide readers. When I first became interested in writing, it was because I thought I had a lot to say and I wanted people to pay attention to me.
As I’ve grown, that has changed for me, thankfully. Now I want to give people something. I’ve shifted my internal focus from me to them, and I think my writing has improved as a result. It’s wonderful to be part of a conversation whether as a reader or a writer, and that’s all I’ve really wanted I think.
What’s your writing schedule? Do you have a favorite place to write?
I have time to write in the mornings, but I often squander it. I find it hard to focus, and I’m easily distracted. I’d love to bring more discipline to my schedule. I don’t have a favorite place to write, but I am thinking about finding one. I’ve got a great son, and wife, and a busy life, so I make time to write when I can. When I have to write something professionally, as I did with
Star Trek: Secrets of the Universe, then I work every chance I get. But with my own projects I’m less disciplined.
What’s next?
I’m rewriting Rictus, which I hope to finish by Spring. I’m also co-publishing a series of speculative fiction with Saif Ansari called Slipstream City. In our first volume, Tales from Other New Yorks, we had stories set in New York City. Our next volume will contain stories on the theme of Occupied New York. The stories will all be speculative fiction, all exploring some aspect of life in New York City under occupation. The stories could be set in any time with any aspect of occupation that the author wants to explore. I’ll have a piece in there about New York City under alien occupation, with mind-probing checkpoints and the measures that ordinary citizens take to resist this dismal life. It should be fun, and I’m looking forward to seeing what other writers come up with for the anthology.
Anything else you’d like to add?
I want to thank Donna for putting this together. I hope we feed some people with the proceeds of this book. I’m very excited to live in a time when interested readers and writers can put together a book around ideas that excite them and connect on a kindle, or any e-reader. This is an amazing time for fiction and I feel lucky to be able to read so much great stuff nowadays.
The following is a short excerpt from Sean’s story in Urban Harvest.
Ghosts of New York
“Hey, loser! Outside already? Why not noodle on your guitar for a few hours at home and call yourself a musician?” The words were a whisper, but their meaning was loud and clear. Bill, a man in his late 30s, winced into the insults and kept walking down Grand Street, heading to the Delancey Street station.
“Great isn’t it? That moment of optimism before the coffee wears off?” The mist hissed as it formed into an oblong face inches from Bill’s nose.
“Morning, Spork,” Bill said. The mist ignored him, as usual, and continued its tirade.
“Going to an interview, eh? This is gonna be good. I wonder how long it’ll take ‘em to figure out you’re completely useless?” The voice came from a misty figure that hovered in the air, floating backward as Bill walked. It breathed its misty words just inches from his face. Bill called the ghost “Spork” because its forehead bulged like the back of a spoon and the wisps of mist that made up its head tapered into points like the tines of a fork.
Bill sighed. “Just…go back in that hole you came out of!” he shouted. A woman walked by, caught his eye, and gave a wary look of sympathy before she quickly passed him; a big-nosed wisp hovered by her side.
Bill wanted to pretend that Spork wasn’t striking a nerve, but he just couldn’t fake it this time. The morning coffee kick was just running out, as Spork had predicted. The bright future buzz that Bill relied on to get him out of the apartment was fading into the mid-morning crash, and he needed to stay happy for his first job interview in months. It was a perfect time for Spork, the ghost that haunted him, to show up. Perfect for Spork, anyway. Not so good for Bill.
“Are you going to tell them about the arrest?” Spork hissed into Bill’s face. The sprite’s breath was a cool mist with the musty smell of a subway tunnel on a damp day. Six months ago, Bill would have taken a swing at Spork, but it never mattered. None of the sprites ever reacted to anyone, aside from a moan when someone smiled. But that didn’t happen much anymore; smiles were in short supply. But talking to them? Useless, like yelling at a cloud. They just kept doing whatever they were doing, oblivious. Only, unlike a cloud, they tormented the people of New York City.
To read the rest of Sean’s story, check out Urban Harvest: Tales of the Paranormal in New York City, available from Amazon this Sunday (tomorrow)!
A Radiant Reverie 