All posts by D.A. Adams

D.A. Adams is the author of the Brotherhood of Dwarves series and the Sam Skeen saga. He received a Master of Arts in Writing from the University of Memphis in 1999 and taught college English for 16 years. He is the father to two amazing sons and resides in East Tennessee.
General Posts

Thursday Afternoon Ramblings

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I’ve reached a point with this manuscript where I feel like the story is either coming together perfectly or splintering into something incoherent.  I can’t tell which right now.  Up to this point, I’ve felt pretty good with the focus and direction of the plot points, but right now, as everything compresses together for the climax, it feels unruly, and for the first time in my writing career, I feel like I’ve painted myself into a corner without being certain how to paint myself back out.  Part of that is because of the twist that occurred around chapter nine, one which I kind of anticipated but wasn’t certain would happen.  Once it happened, it has taken on a life of its own and completely changed the ending of this book from what I had envisioned.  From experience, I know that can actually be a good development, but I also know that if I lose control of the natural flow, the ending could disintegrate on me.

It’s a delicate balance between allowing the story to develop naturally and steering it in the proper direction.  On the one hand, I feel like this twist has been pretty powerful and will change the entire complexion of Roskin as the protagonist.  On the other, I don’t want to force the climax to happen in a way that seems contrived.  The biggest obstacle I’ve encountered is making the time of the various plot points come together precisely without relying on some cheap trick to have it work.  Over the next few nights, I have to figure out how to blend it all together or risk losing the tension that’s coming to a head.

This is one half the exhilaration of writing and one half the madness of it.  I love when these surprises happen, and I know my best course of action as a writer is to get out of the way and let the story tell itself.  However, for four books, I’ve been juggling various plot threads to bring them together at this moment, and now that I’m there, it feels as if the threads are unraveling on me.  These next two and a half chapters will determine what quality of writer I am.  If I can make this work, I feel like this will a very good book.  If I can’t, the whole series could implode on me.  And I only have a week and a half before the semester begins.

No pressure.

For Collin and Finn

Wednesday Night Ramblings

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boys
Dear sons, since you’ve gone back to Florida, I’ve missed you desperately.  When you’re here, I feel whole and alive and happy.  When you’re gone, there’s an emptiness in my heart nothing can fill.  I don’t know why you haven’t been calling me as much as you used to, but I miss talking to you and hearing about your days.  You’re both growing up so fast, and I want to share as much time as I can with you.  You’re my guys, and I love you both more than you can imagine right now.

I’m exhausted from working on this book.  It has taken nearly everything out of me to write it this summer, but I’m almost finished.  One day, if you read my books, I hope you’ll both know that I wrote them for you, to give you something of me that you could cherish and remember and pass on to your children and grandchildren.  You both are my inspiration and motivation, and even though we aren’t together as much as I’d like, I hope one day you’ll find joy in reading this series.

It’s almost time for me to write tonight, and both of you are probably sound asleep right now.  I wish with all my heart I could pop my head in your room, watch you sleep for a few minutes, and kiss your foreheads.  There’s not much harder for parents than to be separated from their children, and for me nighttime is the worst.  While I’m writing, I hope both of you are enjoying happy dreams and resting comfortably.  Please, know that I’m always thinking about you and missing you.  Hopefully, I will see you again soon, and hopefully, we will talk tomorrow.

General Posts

Late Night Ramblings

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I’m having one of those “it’s hard not to be bitter” nights.  I’ve been working at this craft since I was 17.  I’ve spent countless hours honing my voice and learning how to pace a scene.  I’m damned proud of each of the books I’ve written, despite their flaws, because I know with each one I poured all of my passion for this craft into them. The first three of the series were written under conditions that were as big of obstacles to creativity as I can imagine, yet somehow I persevered and managed to create three pretty good books.  Despite the quality of my writing, I still feel mired in the muck of obscurity.

Part of what makes me bitter is that piles of horse dung like Twilight make millions, while many writers like myself kill ourselves at day jobs, hoping for a break.  It’s hard not to be bitter.  I’ve worked my ass off this summer to finish book four before school starts back because once the semester begins, I’ll be so overwhelmed with bullshit I won’t have the creative energy to write much new prose.  Night in and night out, I’ve hammered out scene after scene, believing this book is even better than the first three.  Only time will tell if I’m right.

Another aspect of the creeping bitterness is social media.  In this age, it’s absolutely essential to have a social media presence just to be noticed, but everywhere is so inundated with crap, from stupid cat memes to political diatribes to gossip that it’s hard to be heard among the din.  Then, there’s the clusterfuck known as Twitter.  I’m sorry, but I hate Twitter.  It’s just endless noise, barely recognizable as English, and try as I might, I can’t make any sense out of it.

At this point, I feel like the line from “Slow Rollin Low” — “Ain’t that just like a fool / Want to ride on them trains / When them trains is all gone.”  I’m a dinosaur, an antiquated relic.  I feel like all of my hard work has been for nothing.  Usually, what sells in high volumes are the bubblegum shit like Twilight or the smut porn like Fifty Shades of Gray.  It’s hard to sit here and not be bitter when I feel like my talent has been wasted.  And please, before anyone comments about how I’ve touched lives, consider that a whole mountain of good feelings doesn’t pay the electric bill or buy a bag of groceries.  I don’t need wealth, but I do need to make a living at this.  Otherwise, it just seems self-indulgent.