For Writers

Early Steps into Web3 Publishing

By on September 29, 2022   /   For Writers, Publishing & Promotion, Technology, Writing  

Over the past year, I’ve been experimenting with a set of emerging technologies in the publishing field, collectively called Web3 publishing solutions. Available tools in Web3 include smart-contracts, immutable ledgers, decentralized files, token-mediated licenses, autonomous organizations, artificial intelligence, and more. There’s a lot to learn, but these building blocks can be used to empower authors and reader communities, and to provide teachers with a cross-curricular bridge between STEM and Language Arts.

In their most favorable format, the upcoming generation of ebooks promises to be censorship- and piracy-resistant while providing a more equitable platform for diverse voices and new opportunities for collaborative storytelling.

Or it could all go horribly wrong, magnifying all of publishing’s existing problems while introducing new ones. A subset of these technologies enabled the NFT hype bubble, cryptocurrency speculation, and sketchy practices from some unscrupulous scammers. There are environmental concerns, although the best blockchains are orders of magnitude better than the worst, and are becoming incrementally more sustainable over time. There are many cautionary tales to learn from and reminders that the same tools, in different hands, can be used to build or to demolish.

In an attempt to guide the nascent Web3 publishing industry in a positive direction, I believe authors and readers need to get involved now, in these earliest days of Web3, and demand solutions that will lead to the best possible future.

In that spirit, with publishing partners Cent and Cryptoversal Books, I’ve been blockchain-publishing Wordler Village, named for the primary settlement in a REALM that’s been cursed by a Word Wizard. To stave off total destruction, the villagers must select a Wordler each morning to quest for the five-letter Word of Protection that will give their land one more day of peace.

Wordler Village is not a middle-grade series per se, in that I’m not writing it with middle-grade readers in mind, but as a middle-grade author, I naturally tend toward light-hearted fun amid the exploration of serious issues. And incidentally, the pool of five-letter words I’m using to generate the protagonists of each day’s adventure come from a familiar source that’s widely available.

Representation of a Wordle puzzle being turned into a story token using the author’s doodle artwork.

Story episodes of Wordler Village are available online. They’re always free to read and, for a limited time, in limited quantities, they’re free to collect. The revolutionary Web3-publishing part is that when you add an episode to your collection, you own the story token, just like you might own a physical book.

The story token can be moved from your online account to another storage space like you might move a book from one shelf to another. The story token can be given away. It can be traded. It can be sold. Each move is recorded to a ledger that proves authenticity, links to authorized and unaltered content, and belongs only to you.

Wordler Village has succeeded as a proof-of-concept, putting thousands of story tokens into the hands of thousands of readers. The project has proven that Web3 stories can be put into the world in a sustainable and responsible way, on an energy-efficient blockchain, using carbon offsets, with a focus on readers instead of investors.

Once Web3 makes it possible for digital stories to be owned and verified, the magic can really begin. Story tokens can provide admission to events or communities. Smart-contracts can personalize story content to each reader’s preferences. Tokens can link to licenses allowing collaboration on derivative stories. The ledger of token owners can provide a way for authors to reward their loyal readers with ongoing bonus content.

Today’s tokens have unlimited potential, but only if we speak up now to demand Web3 standards that protect author rights and provide new reader experiences. Up next on my personal to-do list is to incorporate AI artwork, provide character stats to make the story into a game, and link story tokens to licenses to allow readers to become co-authors.

The current storyline of Wordler Village is wrapping up this week. The NIGHTfall storyline deals with the aftermath of a Wordle that I failed to solve—I mean, of a Wordler who failed to locate a Word of Protection by the end of her assigned day.

This week’s episodes will remain available into next month. I’d be honored if they were the first Web3 stories in your collection. They’re free, they’re intended to last forever, and I’m hopeful that they can be the start of something beneficial to everyone. I’m also happy to answer any questions about this format and what we may be able to shape it into.

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Hop Down the Rabbit Hole

By on September 21, 2022   /   Articles, For Kids, For Parents, For Teachers, For Writers, Writing  

Writing is tough.

Writing is tough. At any level. From learning to put one word after another (and in order!) to construct one meaningful sentence to the classic high school essay to writing award-winning books, it isn’t easy. It’s a rewarding kind of tough, though. Challenging but rewarding as most creative ventures tend to be.

The blank page can be a fearsome opponent. The nothingness intimidates. One of the magical rewards of writing is overcoming the mountain of blank space with a word or an idea. The breakthrough lets the creative gears fall in place and allows the river to flow. 

Perhaps as daunting as the blank page is a second barrier to writing. Its roots lie in the way we are taught to write from day one in elementary school. It’s constrained, tightly-focused writing. The expectation a well-written sentence has to come out of the gate and hit the center target with great precision using a minimum of words. Don’t get me wrong, focus is an absolute in teaching beginning writers. What would written communication be like if we all wrote exactly like your favorite five-year-old breathlessly telling the story of how the clown at the birthday party tripped and popped the balloon elephant he was making which scared the magician’s rabbit who escaped and pooped while hopping across the birthday cake? 

So, out of necessity, we are taught to write tight from the beginning. We are taught we must not take a false step off the path or else, like in Bradbury’s A Sound of Thunder, we crush a butterfly and scramble the entire space-time continuum. But what happens when we’re ready to take a step and can’t see even a hint of a path? Like with the blank page, we can get stuck. Paralysis by analysis. 

See? Writing is tough.

So, what’s the remedy?

Well, we first need to loosen the thumbscrews of the deeply ingrained idea of user-focused writing. We need a distraction to help us step back and attack the blank page and/or the paralysis of a constrictive focus. Pull back and give yourself some space. That’s what drafting is. It’s finding your way but on a wide and sometimes rambling path.

(Psst, come closer. I don’t want the writing police or your high school English teacher to hear this.) There are also rabbit holes! Yes! The dreaded rabbit hole can help your writing in more ways than you think if you use them with discipline and measure. 

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is 640px-Down_the_Rabbit_Hole.png

John Tenniel, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

The rabbit hole of research is one of my personal favorite places to hang out as a writer. It’s part of what brings me joy as an ever-curious 58-year-old writer. I used to feel guilty about this research rabbit hole obsession until I discovered that, while the rabbit hole can be a distraction if entered unchecked, it was creating path after path after path for my writing. Paths forward, new paths, paths that veered away from dead ends on discarded writing projects. What has always been considered a waste of time and focus became a great creative tool for me. 

The rabbit hole has become a way to fight through blank page syndrome and break the shackles of tight, and often restrictive, focus that is still ingrained in my brain from elementary school. It’s an idea generator, a brainstorming tool, and a source of necessary or (often at the time) obscure facts which may worm their way into future stories. Out of chaos comes order.

Chaos into order.

The tricks to making the rabbit hole work for you as a writer are simple but can be difficult in execution. The first trick is to stay the master of the rabbit hole, whether it’s the internet, the library, a stack of articles, or books. You can’t turn yourself over completely to it and tumble endlessly from researching what kids might have eaten on the banks of the Nile in the Old Kingdom period to find yourself 45 minutes later checking out the latest Beyonce videos and fashions. 

The second trick is a very useful skill. The beauty of a skill is it can be learned, practiced, and mastered. It’s the ability to look at the chaos, organize it into a fashion that makes sense to you, and store the organized pieces for later. It’s like being a sculptor. Take a block of stone, wood, or clay and remove the pieces that don’t belong in the composition. The skill is the ability to manage information. The skill to find the gold hidden deep within the rabbit hole and then establish order from chaos.

As you can see, rabbit holes can be a writer’s friend and a valuable tool in the writer’s toolbox. Writing is tough. Any tools we acquire to help us over the hills and humps that stand in our way are more valuable than gold. Because, in the end, the most important thing in writing is writing that next word and building our stories one word at a time, brick by brick.

The moral of the story.

Find what works for you. 

Find what brings you joy in doing creative things. 

Do those things. 

Repeat.

 

Alex Lehner, CC BY 2.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0>, via Wikimedia Commons
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A Case for New Beginnings

By on September 5, 2022   /   Articles, For Writers, Writing  

Writing Excuses is in its 17th season!

For years now I’ve listened to a podcast called Writing Excuses. It’s a show that focuses mainly on writing technique, and it’s hosted by a plethora of veteran authors, one of whom is the very talented Brandon Sanderson. A few seasons back, Brandon made a comment about deleting the early chapters of a manuscript and rewriting them completely (in fact, Brandon talks about this often and even includes many of the deleted scenes on his website).

As a writer who barely scrapes together enough time to write a first draft at all, the idea of deleting entire chapters was (okay…is) pretty terrifying. All that work, all that setup, all those precious words just…gone. 

I have beginnings on the brain this month largely because I’m a middle school teacher, and September is a month of beginnings. New classes, new students, new Spongebob Squarepants socks. As I think about it now, there have definitely been school years that could’ve used a better introductory chapter. Life, of course, doesn’t allow us to delete and redraft, but as a writing technique this is something I’m warming up to.

Maybe you’re like me — balking at the thought of trashing entire sections of a manuscript. With that in mind, I’d like to make a case for new beginnings by highlighting a few authors who aren’t shy about laying their work on the chopping block.

The 10% Rule

In his book, On Writing, Stephen King recalls early advice from an editor that suggested his second draft should be 10% shorter than the first. The idea that much of editing is deleting transformed King’s writing and helped propel him to the success he has today. Writer and editor Erin Whalen digs into the details of this strategy on her blog, and it’s definitely worth a look.

Short Chapters

Another wildly successful author who’s recently branched out to middle grade is James Patterson. In countless interviews and articles about his craft, Patterson’s notoriously short chapters are often highlighted and pondered. So much of what gives Patterson’s books the punch and the pace they have is his willingness to sometimes say as little as possible. The underlying mantra here is not too dissimilar from my own mindset when I have to stop by a fellow teacher’s classroom on my way out at the end of the day — get in, get to the point, and get out!

 

Murder Your Darlings

This is perhaps one of the most well-known ideas where writing and editing is concerned, but just to be clear, no one is advocating for actual murder here. The phrase, which has taken various forms and been attributed to several different authors (William Faulkner among the most famous of them), centers on the idea that sometimes deleting the things most precious to us is the best way to advance a story. There are, of course, exceptions to this rule (Margery Bayne at the writing cooperative does a great job unpacking this idea more fully), but the takeaway for me, both as a writer and as a human, is to edit objectively. Getting swept up in the emotion of something is a surefire way to keep stuff around that probably needs to go, whether it’s chapters in a manuscript, junk in the attic, or toxic people in my life (but just to reiterate, actual murder is bad).  

The writing graveyard isn’t as scary as it sounds!

Whether you’re writing a new book or just starting a new season in life, a willingness to remove the unnecessary and even start over entirely is profoundly helpful. I’ve already got a few chapters in my new manuscript that need to go, and thanks to techniques like the writing graveyard, I don’t necessarily have to toss anything permanently (though I suspect some of it should definitely be tossed permanently). 

Best of luck as you embark on new beginnings this fall, and feel free to drop other editing strategies in the comments. Happy writing!

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