Pseudographia

writing or something like it

In the last week, I’ve started four new documents—an idea for revising a draft, two new short stories (at least one of which will become part of an in-progress novel), and this post for Pseudographia. In addition to the other short stories and novel that I’m working on, that’s a lot to keep track of. Without a system, it can be hard to keep focus. Without focus, I can spend all my time starting projects and no time finishing them. So, it’s important for me to keep track of all works that are “in progress” and focus on moving those through the process from initial ideas through early drafts, revising, editing, and eventually submission and publication.

In Ulysses, I keep all of my active projects in a smart folder by tagging them with the term “in progress”. As I create new projects, they are automatically added to this group. For novels, all chapters are placed in the novel’s folder, and only the active one is labeled “in progress”. Each week, I review the folder and remove the “in progress” tag from sheets I haven’t worked on in the last couple of weeks. Pruning the list helps me keep it limited and relevant.

Another way that I keep the group relevant is to try to limit the projects in each stage of writing. I may be coming up with ideas for one story while drafting a second, revising a third and working on the query letter for another. In addition to my fiction, there is often a blog post or article in the “in progress” folder. Unlike fiction, the lifespan for posts is extremely short—it either moves to publication in a couple days or is archived and subsequently forgotten.

Committing to tracking and completing “in progress” projects has allowed me to focus on the writing that is most important to me and to maintain my momentum. The system is nice to have, but the commitment is necessary.

Do you have a good strategy for staying focused and making progress on your writing or other projects? If so, let me know on Twitter: @jamescraig.

I’ve had a big idea, a capital B capital I Big Idea, knocking around my head for 5 or so years now.

Many of the concepts are well-established in science fiction, but I think this world has a unique twist on them. And I think that the shape of the story also has a unique way of unfolding and fitting together. Hopefully, a way that’s both sustainable for the story and for me as a writer because this could be my big idea for a while.

And it’s been so exciting to see how the themes fit together, how the presentation of the story makes it interesting from both a narrative and, potentially, business standpoint. It’s been fun writing exploratory stories in this world, ones that are unlikely to end up in the main storylines but that are useful to get to know the world and possibly interesting enough to stand on their own.

So, in the last couple of weeks, I’ve been transitioning from planning to writing. And it has been…pretty terrible. I mean, it makes me reconsider why I ever thought I could be a writer, why I ever wanted to be one.

So, I went back to planning, and patched up a few holes, worked to improve characters. And, it’s been a slog getting back into the actual writing.

I’m aiming at a 5000-10000 word chunk to start things off. Ideally, that’s a couple of weeks. But between the general reality of starting a story, work, kids, sickness, the school year, it’s gotten off to a much slower start—roughly 750 words of prose in a week. Oh, it pains me to look at that number.

I constantly forget how hard this process is. I forget the excitement smashed by terribly slow, terribly written first drafts. I forget that it’s often easier to write 500 words on an outline than 500 words in a story. I forget that I spent more than two years writing my first novel, revised it twice, and then re-wrote it completely one last time.

This project is exciting, and terrifying, and I’m still trying to make the transition to writing it out. Getting to the revisions is a more successful strategy than trying to avoid them. I’m working to get out of this sinkhole, but it may be a bit messy in the meantime.

The last few of weeks have seen the release of Scrivener for iOS, by Literature and Latte, and a long-awaited update to Ulysses by The Soulmen.

Long ago, when I barely had the money to spend on a meal out, I made the decision to spend the little extra I had on Scrivener for Mac. It changed my life. Well, it at least improved it significantly.

I was a college student used to the Microsoft Word shuffle. Every time I wrote, the challenges of formatting and arranging the paper took an inordinate amount of time. Scrivener allowed me to plan and write efficiently: my undergraduate thesis on environmentalism in American literature, my first novel which allowed me to earn my master’s degree, the draft for my second novel, and the short stories and articles that composed my websites.

The fundamental elements of Scrivener, then and now, are key for many people writing long-form works (novels, dissertations, films) and collections. A Scrivener project is a unified directory containing chapters or sections, notes, and additional resources such as images, PDFs, web pages, and other files. It has a beautiful focus view, keywords, writing targets, and much more.

But the standout feature for me with Scrivener is the ability to view the same documents in writing, outline, and cork board/notecard view. No note-taking or outline app that I’ve tried is as powerful in this way. It allows you to quickly switch between writing, viewing the structure, and arranging sections. The outline view even includes the notes, keywords, and targets that you’ve attached to chapters. Changes in one view (moving a scene in the corkboard view) are reflected in the other views (the move is reflected in the outline view).

The iOS version of Scrivener brings these features to iPhones and iPads. Now, you can work with your Scrivener projects across Mac, iPhone, and iPad. But don’t expect to do so in the way you are used to with other Apple-ecosystem cross-platform apps: there is no iCloud and there is no automatic sync. Windows and Linux compatibility, the complex nature of the Scrivener project file format, and iCloud’s standard behavior (auto-saving amongst other things) makes Scrivener and iCloud a poor fit for each other (read more about it in this blog post from the Scrivener team). To work across multiple devices, Scrivener relies on manual syncing through Dropbox. And while this would have been a godsend when their iOS development was first mentioned years ago, it seems anachronistic now. I am constantly working across different devices, so I’m not sure that the merge conflicts saved by using Dropbox would outweigh those caused by requiring a manual sync process.

That’s not the only drawback to Scrivener’s complexity. While I have tended to use Scrivener as a text editor and not a word processor, there is still some of the complexity of font selection and formatting there. Scrivener can display and export text in some pretty amazing ways (e.g. combined drafts in ePUB, PDF, .doc, and more), but those take either finding the right template or fiddling with settings for quite some time. The user interface is a bit busy, and the settings are still a bit confusing, more akin to Word for Windows than contemporary iOS apps.

A few years ago, after moving to an iPad for much of my fiction writing, and trying out WriteRoom and Byword for their cross-platform ease, I decided to stop waiting for Scrivener for iOS and try Ulysses. Ulysses had just added its own iPad app, and it was just what I was looking for in my writing at the time (mostly short stories and blog posts). Since then, The Soulmen have extended the iOS version to the iPhone.

Cross-device compatibility in Ulysses is amazing. And the syncing just works over iCloud (or Dropbox if that’s your choice) unless I’m editing a document on two devices at the same time (a mistake I’ve only made a couple of times). Updated text is auto-saved and quickly makes its way to all devices. If you tried Ulysses in the early days of multiple device support and found it slow, you may want to try again—it’s made great strides.

Ulysses is text editor with the option of using Markdown or Textile formatting (a way to show styles for text, notes, and links using regular characters like asterisks and parentheses), which makes it easier for me to focus on the writing and not the layout or presentation. Whereas Scrivener gives you a project view by default, the basic use of Ulysses is a screen with text, and optionally some statistics and a list of texts to choose from. While Ulysses saves each sheet of writing as a file, you don’t name files or view them in a “finder”. Each sheet is shown as a preview of its title and the first few lines of text.

Coming from Scrivener, Ulysses can seem downright spare. There’s not a comparable outline view or note card view. You can approximate an outline in how you group sheets, but it’s not nearly as powerful for the purpose of outlining. There are keywords, goals, and attachments, but they’re available per sheet and not per projects (update: goals are available to groups1). Speaking of, you can group sheets into folders and sub-folders, but there isn’t a comparable idea of a project in Ulysses. Luckily, you can still see the content of sheets grouped within a directory or using a keyword or tag and edit them together in the editing pane. You can also combine or split sheets easily.

Scrivener does offer some output options for html, ePub, PDFs, and doc files, but they are not the stars of the show. I would be even less likely to create an ePub version of a book from Ulysses than Scrivener (Calibre has been my favorite choice for creating e-books in ePub and MOBI). The newest version adds output to WordPress websites (both .com and self-hosted). Publishing to WordPress is a killer feature for me, especially on iOS where publishing to WordPress has been complicated and frustrating. The allows me to skip a large manual process and focus on the writing.

Ulysses is about writing quickly and without distraction. Where Scrivener is like a software development environment but for writers instead of programmers, Ulysses is like a souped-up typewriter, especially when combined with an external keyboard.

Many writers swear by Scrivener, and for good reasons. Keeping planning, notes, goals, and writing together can save mental energy otherwise spent on managing resources. Scrivener for iOS also has a nice, clean look that I hope Literature and Latte ports to their Mac version (and maybe adapt for Windows and Linux).

For me, however, I like the simpler environment that Ulysses provides, as well as the flexibility to work on whichever device feels best for the task or that I have on me at the moment without worrying that I don’t have the last additions or edits.

With iPad multitasking, I’m also not concerned about putting an outline from OmniOutliner or a mind map from MindNode off to the side when needed (both apps also sync across Mac and iOS automatically). I’ve found having multiple simple tools to not be as much of a struggle in iOS.

I wouldn’t recommend keeping projects in Scrivener and Ulysses for the long term, but I would recommend trying both of them out and seeing which fits your writing style best. Cross-platform compatibility and syncing make it easy to write in the most convenient and effective way at any given time. It also makes it easier to adopt iOS as a primary writing platform2.

With these releases, long-form writing tools on iOS have grown up. Scrivener and Ulysses for iOS have caught up if not surpassed their desktop counterparts.

  1. https://twitter.com/ulyssesapp/status/766597088914399232
  2. MindNode, Ulysses and GoodNotes for iOS, the iPad Pro, Pencil, and an external keyboard have allowed me to create a paperless writing process that I can carry with me almost everywhere. It’s powerful to be able to generate ideas, write, and edit at almost anywhere and at any time.

The house I grew up in sat on the corner of a residential street and a divided thru-street. It wasn’t until I was in junior high that the city planted trees in the median. Until then, the road was broken by a narrow strip of St. Augustine grass cut short like the rough of a golf course. Most of the front yards matched that aesthetic, broken only by a few Texas live oaks, cottonwoods, or crepe myrtles.

Our house had two live oak trees out front when I was young, before lightning split the first along the trunk. The second was hit—by lightning, again—years later when I was in high-school, and only saved through an elaborate system of wires and bolts. We added holly bushes along the front of the house, just under the windows, with fresh pansies planted beneath throughout the spring and summer.

As a kid, I spent many summer hours sitting on the front porch, a small 3×3 portico providing just enough space to escape from the rain or sun, depending on the weather. We would sit on the single step underneath the roof’s overhang, where we could keep a watch on the comings and goings of the neighborhood.

That’s where my best friend and I played countless card games of war and where we collected roly polies and earth worms. It’s where we watched the cars speed by coming from the country or neighboring cities, through our neighborhood, and on to the shopping mall. It’s where we patched up scraped knees after riding bikes and skateboards and where we ate ice cream cones and popsicles to cool down.

That front porch was a meeting place before football and baseball games played up the street, bike rides to the convenience store for 2-cent candy, and hiking trips through the woods behind the school in the next neighborhood over.

It was also where I traded away a few pages of my Mark McGwire baseball cards for a handful of Jose Cansecos, and where I learned how to bet the spread on football games.

In high school, I traded my front porch for other front porches—my best friend’s that was next to his driveway, where we tinkered around with his ’65 Mustang. My girlfriend’s with the swing, where I checked my watch repeatedly, waiting until the exact last moment before I needed to leave to beat, or at least arrive close to, my curfew.

In college, we sat on the front porch of the dormitory well into the night because that was the only time the air was cool enough to enjoy being outside. And later, we sat on the front porch of our apartment, drinking coffee or beer, talking about politics, music, and relationships with equal fervor and trepidation, learning how to become adults.

Our front porch isn’t used much these days, perhaps because none of us, even the kids, have much time where we’re just sitting around the house. But as the Texas summer stretches out in front of me, I am reminded of that front porch from years ago and all the ones that followed because, for me, the front porch is home that you share with others.

I’ve been using my iPad as my daily driver for the last few months, first my Mini, then the 12.9-inch iPad Pro I purchased after the release of the 9.7-inch Pro.

I’ve been on the lookout for a replacement for my 2009 MacBook Pro 13-inch for a couple of years now. I first thought it would be the 12-inch MacBook for the portability and power of OS X. But it seems like a computer built for last year rather than next year. I’m fine with one port, but I would have preferred Thunderbolt 3. And though I don’t have a 4K monitor, I would like the ability to run one at 60Hz if I’m going to keep a computer for another 5 years.

The iPad Pro intrigued me when it was first released, but it seemed too large, and the software didn’t seem to differentiate it from the smaller iPads.

But a lot changed in my workflow in the intervening time. I used my iPad Mini more and more for writing because it was much easier to take with me to work and the coffeeshop, especially in addition to my work computer. An 4.5 pound computer isn’t much on its own, but it’s considerable as extra weight. My iPad and keyboard were about 1 pound combined. I kept them with me in my bag.

And, despite a more active writing schedule, I wasn’t actually using my laptop as much, even at home.

Occasionally, I would pull my laptop out for paying bills. And I only did that because that’s where my passwords are stored. I created most of my accounts before I could sync them across devices, before there were even devices available to sync across. And while I do update passwords, inertia has kept them on my laptop.

The iPad Pro is able to take over almost every function of my laptop. Passwords and setting up my website are the last two reasons to use my laptop for me. And, I’m looking at other options, such as 1Password for my passwords. I’ve just done some maintenance on my website, so it can probably last for another 6 months to a year without further need of FTP or command-line work.

The iPad makes for a great writing environment, as good as a laptop. And it’s an even better editing environment, with the ability to write directly on documents using the Apple Pencil. I am able to replace my paper-based revision and editing process, and able to keep more notes in reach without having to carry extra paper, folders, and notebooks around. When updating my stories and articles, my marked-up document sits comfortably beside my text editor on the 12.9-inch screen.

The iPad Pro and iOS can’t do everything an desktop-OS computer can, but it can do enough for now. I’ll be handing my laptop to my wife to replace her white MacBook soon. And I’ll keep a bootable backup on hand in case I need to reach any data (thanks SuperDuper!). If I need a desktop computer in the future, I’ll get one. But, since we’re almost there with mobile-first hardware and operating systems, maybe we’ll actually get there first.

This is how I remember it. My family had gone on a trip to Pike’s Peak. I was sitting on the steps of the motel pool, playing with a toy boat.

My mom was on a lounge chair on the deck, and my brother and sister were swimming. One of them called to my dad. He went to them.

The boat floated away from me. I reached out for it and slipped off the steps. My hand grabbed for the boat as my head dropped below the surface.

I was two years old. I couldn’t swim. I couldn’t breathe.

That is my earliest memory, and I’m the only one in my family that remembers that day that way. It could have been just a few seconds before my father grabbed me and placed me on the deck, not enough time for anyone else to fear harm, to form a mental snapshot of that moment. But, I was two, and I was scared that I would never come back up to take another breath.

Despite repeated lessons, I didn’t learn how to swim with my head below the surface of the water until I was seven years old. I didn’t venture past the shallow end of the pool for another couple of years after that.