So, we have a core idea for what a serial is supposed to be, but we need to establish some ground rules for ourselves.
This space is for getting better at writing using a specific high-level format: a serialized piece of fiction (or non-fiction, you all are welcome too), as opposed to a novel, a short story, or a non-serialized series. But what does it mean to get better? It’s vague. Each one of us could have a different opinion on this; we need something we can use to judge our progress.
I have three points, for now, that I use.
Quality
We are writing and publishing at a relatively faster pace. Nothing in that says low quality writing. Now, there’s a difference between quality writing and metaphysical literature, so don’t confuse the two. Tarzan was published extremely rapidly for its day, and other than horror, Stephen King is most known for his massive output of books. We may disagree on their narrative and linguistic impact, but both of those had “good” writing. Besides, this isn’t a lit class. It’s a shop class.
Spelling mistakes, poor plots, bad characters, and all around shoddy writing are not acceptable. We can aim for quality on the level of Souseki, Rushdie, Austin, or Wolfe, just as we can aim for quality the likes of Christie, Poe, King, or Takahashi (Shin or Rumiko), just as we can aim for the quality of harlequin novels, pulp fiction, or that perennial bugbear, Charles Dickens.
We simply must maintain a level of quality for our audience. There is room above that for technique and literariness. However, going lower than that, having poorly designed or poorly written stories, is unacceptable. Any speed we gain from publishing poor writing is worse than wasteful.
Speed/Consistency
As we rambled on in the definition post, the central focus is a speedy and regular publishing schedule. Work starts, is developed, and then gets published, often and consistently.
If we find a technique that makes the writing “legit super good,” but either takes forever or is wildly inconsistent, it must be discarded. We are making an implicit promise to our readers: this will be here often, on time, for a long time. Things will happen, sure, and please understand we’re moving along a little fast, so we may slip up; but that’s the exception, not the rule.
Mostly this means speed and reliability. Any useful technique must do both, or at least improve one without harming the other. Knocking out 8000 words in a day, occasionally, isn’t good enough. Getting six words down every day without fail isn’t worth it either. Both are vital.
It still must be quality. Effective, while being quick and consistent.
Sustainability
If this kills me, well, what will I do next week?
I’ve spent a lot of time trying to get things organized, ready, put in place, and that left me with nothing to show for it. No, get going, and get good. I have a plan I am working towards right now. A publishing schedule which sounds partially insane. I want that as my baseline, with side projects and other things on top of it. It shouldn’t kill me. But I can’t risk that, either.
Any technique or skill which gives consistent, fantastic results by destroying our health is worth knowing.
It cannot be used regularly, nor can it be our standard operating procedure.
Where the answer is: fuck, I got to write a 20k word draft in a day? Those days, pull that trigger. Pull out all the stops and let loose, and do everything to do quality, fast work. Do not slow down, do not hold back, and just hammer that thing out.
If that’s every weekend, we will burn out and die before getting close to anything worthwhile. It’s still work, it’s still a job, it’s still the long haul. Some of it will feel like it’s killing us, but actually, we just need to adapt. Get used to it as training. But sometimes it is killing us. If in ten years, I can’t still be doing this, then it doesn’t work.
It still needs to be fast, and it still needs to be good. But it also needs to be a weight we can bear.
One final point: Hobbyism.
I feel like this needs to be pointed out, even though it’s not exactly related to this post. I’m not here for fun. I’m not here to while away my time during commercial breaks. I’m not sitting at this desk because I have nothing else worth doing, and it papers over the ennui.
Sure, I might fail. No, that’s unrealistic: I will most likely fail and die aware of that. This whole project is probably a great show of effort to accomplish nothing. And I accept that; that’s not why I’m here.
I’m here because I want to be, and it is my reward to deal with all this. Writing this is my privilege, my vocation, and, if everything works out, the way I continue to eat.
Readers, I do not expect all of you to follow this. I have no problem with people who are not so serious, who want to be hobby writers, or who just enjoy reading and learning about things. In fact, if you aren’t interested in the blog, but like the stories I tell, fantastic. Thank you.
Some of these things will be more than you think are necessary. Some of them may appear to be overkill. As long as it meets the first three points, however, I don’t think there’s such a thing as overkill. Maybe it’s not required, but better is still better.
But remember, I wake up and think, “Hell yeah, this is what I get to do.” If I get a little overzealous or lose my perspective sometimes, forgive me. If it’s a hobby for you, take what you feel like and leave the rest behind. If it’s a job, treat it like one.
If it’s your dream, or your goal, then we will get to work. I know I’m still a dumb newbie, and you should know that too, but we’re in this together then. It’ll be a ride.
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