As a writer, I know I’m not unique in having this issue. I sit down, and try to hack out a book or a review or something of that sort, and I feel like I’m doing little more than shuffling forward at hundred-year-old tortoise speed. This first draft is taking forever, I take ages between querying new agents, augh, I have to come up with another blog post.
This morning I decided to flip through a writer/artist book I haven’t skimmed in a while, The Artist in the Office by Summer Pierre. And I landed on this quote in the book:
How perfect. A reminder that writing, or any kind of creating, is a laying of bricks. You do these things one at a time, and it doesn’t seem like much, but you look back and you realize you’ve built a wall, a house, a skyscraper with each little addition.
It doesn’t matter that I only wrote a page this morning. I have one more page than yesterday. I entered a contest yesterday — one more contest. I’ll query an agent this week — one more agent. I’ll run today, and that’s one more mile. I’ll hit the Publish button, and there’s one more blog post.
It all adds up eventually, hopefully to something.
Might be time to reread this book.
What’s one thing that you’ve done today? Did you read a book? Draw a picture? Outline a chapter?
The above is one of my favorite writing quotes, because it applies almost directly to the way I write my stories. I outline only just enough to keep track of things that I’ve thought up that I think I want to get to at one point, though any scribblings I do is more brainstorming than laying down any sort of a map for the story. I think this is a great way to write, for me at least: it keeps me excited the whole way through, as I figure out what will happen in the next few scenes, and I discover things about my characters and their world as I go.
Of course, writing this way comes with some problems. Much of the world building and back story has to be put in after I’ve done the first draft, simply because I wasn’t aware of most of that stuff before I first started scratching away in my notebook. My “research” is done concurrently, or after the fact, since I didn’t know what I needed to read up on until halfway through the story, when the plot and theme became apparent to me.
Still, I love to write my novels this way — but sometimes it can put me into a bit of a panic. Such as, when I’m approaching the end of the story, and I have sort of an idea of what the conclusion should be, but I cannot for the life of me figure out how the heroine will actually achieve that goal. All the solutions I come up with are cheesy, or weak, or simply don’t fit with the character I’ve come to understand. And of course, I begin to worry: that I’m not going to figure it out, that I’m going to slam face first into a wall, and as I hobble away to tend to my battered self I leave the almost-finished-but-not-quite story behind never to be touched again…
Then, as I’m doing my as-I-go “research”, I come across one idea, a single word really, that sparks an idea, that blooms into a bigger idea, and suddenly…I know what my heroine does. I know how everything gets fixed, and how the story slides into its conclusion. I might change it (I’m certainly changing most of what happened before, this is a gross-messy rough draft), but now it feels solid, like something I can work on without having to worry about the whole thing collapsing.
It worked out. Just like it always seems to do.
How do you write? Do you just pay attention to what’s in your headlights and review the trip when you’re done, or do you need to map out the whole road before you can even get in the car? Let me know!
Last week, Hank Green posted a vlogbrothers video titled “You Will Be Forgotten…And That’s OK.” This was in response to a popular Tumblr post where the original poster revealed a fear of living an average life and never doing something to be remembered by, and he was concerned about the fact that so many people seemed to share this anxiety.
Watch the video, definitely, it’s less than 4 minutes long, but here’s a gist of what he said: oblivion is inevitable, and it’s impossible to be actually remembered for forever. Besides that, the idea of being permanently successful is a myth; as he points out from his stance as a “successful” person, you can have many successes, but being successful and satisfied one hundred percent of the time just isn’t a thing.
This struck me, because, I think, that’s something that bothers me, too. I want to be remembered, I want to be known. But…why?
It’s a hard thing to grasp, but I believe this feeling comes from not quite understanding my own motivations. I want to be a writer. Being a writer makes you sort of famous, so that seems like a “why”. But is it?
If I can be a famous enough writer, I’ll make enough money off of writing to be able to make that my vocation. I’ll get the satisfaction of knowing that I’ve done something well when other people like what I’ve done. When other people know that I’ve done this thing, and like it enough to pay me money for it, I will feel “successful” and “remembered.” With that as the seeming goal, having not reached that point yet is, well, kind of depressing.
Hank Green’s video helped remind me to not get caught up in this. Becoming known for my writing is a byproduct of what I want, writing for a living. It’s not what I’m actually aiming for. If I don’t ever become “famous”, or whatever, that’s not a problem, because that’s not what I’m trying to do.
Hank ends the video emphasizing that what’s important is the good things you have done, and the good things you will do, “…things that you’re gonna make and have already helped make.” Who cares if I won’t be remembered. I’m WRITING now, and I’m going to keep writing, and creating, and just doing things that hopeful add an ounce of happiness to the world (even it’s just my own world). That’s the thing that matters.
Here’s Hank’s video, embedded below. But check out the whole vlogbrothers channel; they’re really smart, sensitive dudes.
Snow removal at my condo timed weirdly with a hair appointment, so instead of moving my car and then fetching it less than an hour later, I decided to pass part of the morning in the coffee shop alongside my hairdresser’s. I crammed a notebook and book into my purse, ordered a croissant, and took up a big portion of a table, set to get some work done.
I’ve left the house to write before. For a week when I still lived with my parents, I spent the better part of the morning in the local library editing away on the then current story. Since then I’ve pulled out the notebook on airplane trips and when I’ve waited in hotel rooms, but it’s been a long time since I left my house with the specific intent of writing.
In the course of an hour, I got quite a bit done. I picked up a momentum and got a few pages written. When I took a moment to pause there was plenty to look at: the town cops coming in for their regular coffee, an older couple saying grace over their egg sandwiches, a pair of teenagers yammering away, happy. At home I have the distraction of the TV, the dog (though I love her so), the mess of my house that really ought to be picked up, those novels that actually should be organized in a different way… I still had my phone to distract me a little, but all the pointless junk I usually look at becomes less important when I move myself to a different scene. A quick skim of Facebook became less a death to my productivity, and more a chance to breath before diving back into the deep end.
I’m lazy. Once I’m home, I have a hard time pushing myself out the door. But maybe I can try a little trip outside of my nest on a more regular basis, and who knows — maybe I’ll finish my work. (As long as all those buttered croissants don’t choke my heart.)
Writers and creative types, do you ever leave the house to get your work done? Do you find it helpful, or even more of a distraction than your desk at home? Do you thrive in coffee shops, or is a nice calm quiet library (oh, I crack myself up) more your thing? Let me know!
When I’m in the midst of a story I like to write at least a little bit, every day (sometimes weekends are a wash, I’ve learned to deal with it). This can be hard. Sometimes I’m busy (work in the morning) or tired (I slept too long). Other times I just don’t feel like I have anything to write. I feel blocked, uninspired, like everything I would write anyway would be a waste so why bother?
Rolling rolling down the writing hill…
Luckily, I’m gullible. I’ll tell myself, “Just write a page.” Or two, or three. Depending on the time I have, on what I feel I could be up to. I just have to write as much as I say, and then I’ll stop. And you know what happens? I write it. I get out that page, or four. But it’s a trick, e I keep going. I write for longer than I said I would, sometimes generating an extra paragraph, usually coming up with another few pages.
By pushing myself to my morning goal I get myself rolling down the hill. I’m excited about the story, I have too much momentum, I can’t stop now! So I keep writing, and the pages fill up, and even if I eventually change most of what I put down today, I’m pushing forward — I’m in it.
For a few months, much of my writing time has been spent on researching and plotting a story that had been sitting in my head for quite some time. I read books, looked up myths, took notes, and thought out the characters and plot as deeply as I could.
Finally I thought I’d figured out enough of what was going on to sit down and write the story. So I opened the notebook, put pen to paper…and I was bored. No matter how long I kept at it, I couldn’t get excited about the story I’d been preparing to put to paper for so many weeks. It simply wasn’t sparking for me.
Then, I got comments back on a story I had sent to one of my writing friends, a short piece that I had written months ago. I’d been unsure if this was a stand-along piece or a chapter one of something bigger. I had been unable to think of where to go with it next, so I shelved it until sending it along to this person. The comments I received were so enthusiastic, and he even asked the question I’d shortly puzzled over myself: was there more?
Maybe I’ll get back to the crows someday…
Bolstered, I tackled this slightly older story again, this time only brainstorming for a couple of days before rushing into the real writing. I’ve written dozens and dozens of pages now, a great majority of them to be definitely thrown out, scenes that I re-imagined different ways one right after another. I know I’m generating a hot mess as I go, but I feel the story in my fingers, and I feel right and accomplished when I finish the pages. I haven’t gone back to my plotted story since.
I’ve uncovered something about myself as a writer through this. If I plot and outline too much, I lose excitement, the need, to bust the story out. But if I jot down ideas as I go, and let the story take me wherever it pleases, I feel excited, invested, and as if the story is taking up more of my brain even when I’m not writing. Probably at least 90% of what I’m doing now will be reordered, rewritten, or thrown out by the time I reach the very end; my method is not the most efficient, and considering I like to know what the plan is so much in life it’s strange that I operate this way in writing. But I’m better, more productive, as a writer if I don’t lay out much of the track.
Writers, do you plot out your stories first? Or do you scribble out a hot mess and carve the plot out after?
Last week was our week long vacation down on Cape Cod, and as usual I had more plans for myself than I actually understood what to do with. I was going to do my new book research, read most of my critique partner’s novel, catch up on a bunch of books. Instead I went to the beach, walked the dog, and did an intense amount of napping.
Despite how strapped for time I sometimes feel with my normal schedule — near full time work, taking care of the house, making myself exercise — the regular happenings of my week actually help my writing projects, in that I know what time I have set aside to work on them. Generally mornings, before and maybe just after breakfast, and then until noon if I’m not going to my job until later that day. On vacation, despite all this open time, I manage to spend less on work, I think because I lack part of the urgency. I don’t get up as early, I don’t have a desk to sit at and get me in the right mindset. Also my husband, and often his family, is right there, waiting for me to spend time with them and state what I want to do that day.
So, on vacation, my regular routine won’t work. And that’s fine. There are plenty of times in my life where my routine has morphed to fit the lifestyle I’m living, like how I work in the morning now rather than night when the family slept like I did when I lived with my parents. The problem is, with a vacation, it’s a short term change that I have to get into right away and try to keep up, until I quickly ditch it again for the old one I’ve grown so accustomed to when I get home. I figured out how to make it work a little better by the end of the week, and while I still didn’t get as much done as I wished, I was able to complete something.
Figure out your new writing time. Is there an hour when everyone’s in the shower and you know you won’t be bothered? A period right after lunch when you would normally just rest? Can you go to bed a half hour later? It’s your vacation, but maybe waking yourself up before everyone else stumbles to the coffee is the only thing you can do. I did that a bit, forcing myself up at 7:00 with the dog, so I could do my research and make my notes.
Don’t give up that time. It’s a vacation, plans are fluid, you might feel you need to give up late night writing in favor of ice cream, or the morning for a big out-to-eat breakfast. Guard that time, though, or set aside something else specific. I’ve found that when writing time is a “when I get to it” kind of deal, it tends to not get done.
Separate yourself. Maybe you can write within a crowd. I can’t. Depending on what kind of project I’m working on, the more activity going on around me, the harder it is to focus on the story at hand. It doesn’t help that everyone suddenly shows interest in what you’re working on once you crack open a notebook in their presence. Hide in your bed, walk to the coffee shop. I’ve gotten work done while curling up in a chair opposite someone taking a nap — no one’s going to be too loud in that room.
Small goals, please. You’re probably not going to write as much as you would at home, despite your lofty intentions. Set little goals: I’ll write a page, I’ll annotate this chapter, I’ll edit 5 pages. Then you’re not stressing yourself out (you’re on vacation, man) and you’ll close the laptop with a little sense of accomplishment.
Relax. Writing on vacation is not the same thing as taking time off specifically to write. You won’t finish your great amazing novel now; this is just to keep your head in the game, keep your wordsmithing sharp. Worry about marathon sessions and intense edits when you get back to the dusty corner of your own house, not when you’re supposed to be choking on sea water and crisping your lily-white skin at the beach.
Do you try to keep up a writing routine when you go away, or do you treat it like any other job and leave it all behind? How do you keep up the quota on your vacation?
The genre of storytelling I seem to have settling into the most firmly is middle grade fantasy. The novel I sent out is in that category, as is the one I’m currently editing and the one stewing in my head. Even many of the short stories I write, while probably better suited for an older audience (I’m assuming, I haven’t found that audience yet) fall into the fantasy category.
Fairy in Irises by Dora Wheeler
It makes sense. I’ve loved the genre, ever since I was a kid with Narnia books and through adolescence where I devoured Pern and Forgotten Realms books. So, it makes perfect sense that I would pick this as my niche.
Unfortunately, I have a problem, a pretty devastating one for a fantasy writer — world building. When it comes to building up the history of my world, the locations, places, even the shape, I’m just no good at it. Partly, this is because I find the whole process a little…boring. (Please don’t throw rocks at me.)
In reading and writing I’ve always cared the most about the characters, where they’re going, what they’re doing, how they grow, which I stand by as one of the most important parts of the story anyway. But sometimes, it’s like my characters are moving with a bubble wrapped around them, and everything outside that bubble is completely blank until my character passes through. I can’t picture the shape of things, fail to imagine the placement of, or distance between, locations, whether their only mentioned or actually visited by my characters. And I forget to people the world with characters aside from them, from important leaders to members of a crowd, and even manage to leave out more varied creatures (if there’s going to be a pet baby dragon, or an annoyed pixie, there’s got to be a few other beasts, right?)
It’s harder for me, so I don’t get as much joy out of it, and so, kind of, I ignore it. But I can’t. I need to learn to fill in all the blank spots, to have answers if someone asked me what happens in a different place other than where my characters are fighting their battles. Because, if I really know that world, maybe there’s more I can draw from it to make my characters, and their journey, even better.
I’m working on it now with the novel I’m editing, figuring out the creatures and the shape of the land just outside her perspective. Maybe doing this can help me with the rewrites — if I don’t get bored of it first.
Is there an important part of writing or crafting a story that you find tedious? Or one that you simply struggle with, no matter what you try?
I briefly mentioned in my last post that I have another novel idea I’ve been working out, for a while. The first idea explosion came to me a few years ago, and it’s been building and expanding ever since. I’ve got my three main characters, I feel like I know who they are, what they are, how they’re connected, and what their issues are in this book. But I don’t know what they’re supposed to do.
I’ve got a vague idea of what I want to be building up at the beginning of the novel, but I haven’t any idea what I’m building up to. I don’t know who my bad guy is, I don’t know the threat, I don’t know the ultimate goal. It’s incredibly frustrating.
I often start stories with a shadow of an idea of the end, but at least that’s there, the shadow. If there’s a blankness, it has to do with the conclusion, not the whole real plot leading up to it. If I were to start writing this now, I would only be working towards emptiness, and if I got to that emptiness before another spark filled that gap then I would be completely stuck, and I don’t want that.
What I need to do, I think: immerse myself in kid’s books, the creepy kinds (I want this to be pretty creepy) and research, something I’m really bad at. Crows feature heavily in this idea, and I need to learn more about them, what they actually are, and also, maybe, what they are in myth and fairy tale (incidentally, if anyone knows a good crow myth I will love you forever if you send it my way.) Hopefully something will take shape, big enough to fill that space.
When you have a new idea, do you let it stew? Or do you dive in and worry about filling in the gaps later?
Last week I finished the rewrite on my novel, and sent it off to my critique partner to read. Since then, I’ve tried to figure out — what do I do?
Before I started on this rewriting mission, I had plenty of other projects I was working on. Reviews, short stories to write and edit, blog posts. These were things I concentrated on for a short while, a couple of days or maybe a few hours at a time, and I grew accustomed to moving between projects to keep me interested and prevent burning out on one thing.
Then, for over a month, I went back to this story, a story that I spent most of my creative time on for the past few years. I let myself get immersed in just this thing, and aside from some other obligations (some real some self-imposed) I didn’t write anything else.
Now, I’m back to that after time, waiting to hear comments and find out if more massive edits are required before I move onto the next stage again. I could go back to writing those stories, working on those other projects…but coming down from that big thing, I feel like much of my writing energy is temporarily diminished, and it’s hard to get myself back into the habit of jumping between stories and ideas.
So I’m doing little things. My critique partner sent me work of her own, almost as long as what I sent her, so I’m reading that, making comments, concentrating on helping her. And I’m letting myself stew on another novel idea, one that’s been taking shape in my head for a couple of years but still hasn’t formed any fingers or toes. I’m also going over already-written stories, ones I want to edit, fix, and send to friends so I can make a try at publishing them in magazines. Mostly, though, I’m reading, taking in children’s fantasy and adult memoir and emotional graphic novels, filling myself up with other people’s words more than I would when in the middle of my own story, letting my brain just take a break from writing and read, filling myself up so when it’s time to really, really write again, I’ll be ready.
Do you find you need a break between projects, or at least big work? What do you do to build up the motivation to write again?
hadow of an 
Angela Sylvia 