Tag Archives: Wolfe Butler

New Year – New Possibilities

In the last few weeks I have had the opportunity to visit a variety of different blogs. Many offer writing advice, both in general and regarding blogs specifically. All of them recommend posting consistent content on a regular basis. Some recommend posting every day. I would like for that to be my goal.

It is a funny thing that in the past few years I have pondered at length having a blog. I am opinionated and thought it would be nice to have a platform where I could rant whenever I wanted. Now that I have taken the plunge and started a blog, I find myself with few words. It is not for lack of crazy things happening in the world. One only needs to follow the Twitter feed of a few well-known individuals to have an abundance of fodder to rant or muse about. Still, the posts are coming with much more difficulty than I expected.

Another topic I have seen repeatedly is writer’s goals for the new year. Some have quite ambitious goals of writing five or more books this year. One writer told me he just set out a fourteen-year plan for himself. Another writer has listed in her profile that she had written over fifty books in five years. Fifty in five years? That figure blows my mind, especially since I languished for fifteen years on Getting Home and it still is not what I wanted it to be. I finally self-published for the sole reason that it would force me to stop editing and move on to something else. That is probably a tidbit I should not share with my readers, but the whole reason for this blog is for me to rant about things.

One or two completed books this year would be ideal for me. I have six works currently in progress. I have finally forced myself to commit to one, at least for the time being, and will hopefully carry on to completion of the first draft. In addition, I intend to post at least weekly posts on my blog. Posting daily would be a wonderful achievement. I know that if I impose that requirement on myself, one of two things will happen. One, I will start posting meaningless dribble. Or two, I will get so frustrated and discouraged that I will stop writing altogether. I have committed to too much to allow the latter to happen.

It would be nice to know what a variety of writers have for their 2018 expectations. I imagine the dreams of a newbie will be considerably different than the realism of a veteran writer. Please post your comments below or reach out to me on Twitter or Facebook. I would love to hear what you have planned.

Until next time…

Music for Writing

Music for Writing

To say I love music would be an understatement. As a child I spent hours recording songs as they played on the radio. Much of my allowance went to buying cassette tapes. Waves of excitement would wash over me as I hit record every time a new song came on the radio. When I got older I became obsessed with CDs and built a pretty enviable collection. Digital music came along, and my collection was growing exponentially until the option of music subscriptions. With some now, like Amazon’s Music Unlimited, you can listen to pretty much anything you want whenever you want. I buy much less music as a result.

This blog post is not about collecting music. Maybe I will devote another one to that topic later. Rather, I would like to rattle on a little about using music while writing.

Are you a writer? Do you play music while writing? If so, what music do you turn to?

My music tastes are very eclectic, largely decided by the mood I am either in or want to be writing about. If I am dabbling with a bit of romance, Adele or Dido might be my artist of choice. Dealing with confrontation I may turn to something a little angrier. Two of my fallbacks are Linkin Park and the heavier tracks from Evanescence. A mellow passage might turn me to Josh Groban, Sarah McLachlan or Enya. Looking to be happy or humorous, I may call on Michael Bublé.

Editing, we all know how painful it can be, typically points me to something without words so I can concentrate fully on butchering my work. My favorites are piano based, but there are many orchestral ones as well. There is a techno old favorite, David Arkenstone’s In the Wake of the Wind, that has been with me for decades. The soundtracks to A Beautiful Mind and Pride and Prejudice are also calming favorites.

I am not stuck in the past as many of the above references might imply. Streaming today’s pop, alternative and country stations frequently create the right mood or desire. Much of today’s music draws me, but a good playlist is like comfy slippers and a well-worn cardigan. Hence, I find myself returning to old friends often.

Perusing my digital playlists, I seem to be drawn to certain themes. Many of the songs in my collection have “home,” “breathe” or “rain” in the title. It remains a puzzle as to what that means. Still, I am fascinated by the fact that I am drawn to songs with similar subjects.

At times, rare as they may occur, I may turn off all music. Sometimes the voices in my head need to speak clearly for me to get through a particularly challenging passage. The silence does not last long. While it helps to focus momentarily, I tend to find myself drifting mentally or inclined to walk off and do other things. The music comes back on and I can (mostly) focus again. Music helps to drown out some of the lesser voices that are not needed in the moment.

Music is an important part of my writing ritual. What rituals are important to you?

Getting Home – Official Trailer

Getting Home – A Retrospective

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November 2017 will forever be a pivotal date in the story of my life. This month I decided to stop making excuses and a bucket list and start checking old items off said list. I have promised myself since I was a small boy that some day I would be a writer. In the second grade, writing with colored markers and crayons on three-lined paper, I began to tell my stories. That love of storytelling has since grown inside me, but this is the first time I have ventured out and decided to share my stories with the world.

This month I put my first novel out for self-publication. Getting Home is the culmination of fifteen years of hard work. It was the way I worked through the loss of my best friend and then the death of my soulmate. It was the means I used to forgive myself for past mistakes. It provided me with validation that I was not the monster I was rumored to be. It was my way to heal and forgive. It was my voyage to peace, to catharsis.

Book cover

It was a rainy August afternoon when pen first met paper. The words of the prologue came first. Writing a novel was my dream, but I did not have a story waiting to get out. I only knew that I wanted to write. I immersed myself in the moment I was experiencing: the rain outside, the sound of birds, the sound from the aquarium next to me. The prologue is almost entirely my experience on that August afternoon. From that simple opening poured the tale that I hope all of you will read. Tom Jacobs was born. He was as real as the pen in my hand. The sky was not fully dark that evening when I knew what path Tom Jacobs would take and how the journey would ultimately end.

With the flood of details that washed in upon me, it should have been a simple task to sit down and write every word. It would be an exceptional blog post if that were true, and many of you would be contacting me wanted to know the secret of writing a novel in one sitting. As I approached each part of Tom’s life, I was forced to look deep inside myself and discern what in me was the catalyst that spawned what we be Tom’s journey. That process and the subsequent chapters took years to complete.

Part of me feels like I cannot take credit for being the scribe of this narrative. Yes, I did put each word down on paper and those words seeped directly from my mind. I wrote the prologue and gave Tom his name, but from that moment on it was no longer my words. Tom became a real person relating his experiences and honoring me with the opportunity to put his journey in written form.

After fifteen years, Tom and all the other characters in Getting Home are old friends and family. I know their pasts, their likes and dislikes, and for some, I know how their stories end. I am not sure if I will ever put more of their words on paper, but I am happy to have known them.