Refile to the Recycle Bin

On Monday, I mentioned the idea of scraping off the paint -- undoing what one has done -- in the effort to create art. I think this is fitting. Sometimes, it seems to me, that the biggest part of editing is not finding the right word to put on the page -- though that is important -- but actually finding all the words that do not belong on the page, and getting rid of them.

In a letter to F. Scott Fitzgerald in 1934, Hemingway wrote, “I write one page of masterpiece to ninety-one pages of shit. I try to put the shit in the wastebasket.” Yes, even Hemingway produced some bad writing. No one is immune.

He's not alone in cutting the rubbish. John Green claims the best part of his books come out in the revisions and that he's lucky to use 10% of the original draft.

Sometimes, the key to good writing is just cutting the junk.

While I hope my ratio is slightly better than 1:91, that's sometimes how I feel about my writing. For The Thief Book, a good 70% of the original draft probably made it into the rubbish bin. In my revision of my first draft of Cordamant's Heir, I sliced a good 10k off. And, you know, I really feel both projects were the better for it. The Thief Book just ended wrong, and it all had to go. Cordamant's Heir came in really heavy and contained either plot threads that weren't going anywhere because I didn't want to develop them or had parts that were just redundant.

The first time we write things, they are generally not brilliant. Sometimes, they just need a spit shine. Other times, they need a fair amount of nipping and tucking. Other times, they just need a hacksaw and a trip to the recycle bin.

The trick is telling the junk from the masterpiece.

Do you feel like you end up binning most of your original MS, or are you often able to keep most of what you put down? How do you feel about major cuts?

Revisions, Revisions

Sadly -- or happily, I can never make up my mind -- I'm not doing revisions right now. However, I recently agreed to move chairs and things for a local show. (It's a nice gig, actually. Great people, light work, and I get to see the one-acts several times for nothing. Have I mentioned lately I really like theater?) I worked the dress rehearsal, and thus heard the script for the first time. One of cast members said, "You're going to see a completely different show tomorrow." I didn't know if that could be as different as she made it sound, but with a challenge like that, you better believe I paid attention the next night.

Massively different show.

The second night, about two pages of script I hadn't heard before suddenly appeared. (Hey, things happen at dress rehearsal. And if I didn't notice it missing, it means they must have carried it off well. They're quite good.) Changed so much. Suddenly, the relationship between two characters became radically different. This effected the relationship these characters had with a mutual friend, also a part of the show. And a how lot about one of the character's back story became apparent. Totally changed the way I looked at him.

What does this have to do with revisions?

Well, the differences between the versions I saw made me think of different drafts of a book. Between version one and version two, character motivations may change, you might become aware of back story you hadn't previously known, or minor -- maybe even major -- characters might meet with a sudden, untimely death by way of a red pen. Things happen. Things change.

I remember writing the Thief Book. Between versions one and three, nine characters fled into the night never to be seen again, at least in that MS. One new bloke appeared on the screen, and one girl's part grew to subplot sized.

The long and short of it is, in between drafts, things change. Lots of things. Sometimes big things. Huge, colossal, size of a small town with mid-sized populous things. We must accept this. Our stories are not carved in stone. No, they are forged in metal. Thus, they can be taken apart, melted down, reforged, remade, cut off, reaffixed, and otherwise altered. Nothing's perfect, and nothing's permanent.

Things change. Life happens. Roll with it.

How's your writing coming? Revisions? Things changing? Big changes? Small changes? What's the biggest change you've ever made to an MS in between drafts?

Character At First Sight?

(Disclaimer: While I fully intended to return in September to a schedule of posting five times a week, it has come to be my opinion that my summer schedule of posting three times a week is much better; therefore, I'll be sticking with it for the foreseeable future. And yes, I just used a semi-colon, because they -- and people who use them -- are just that awesome.)

First of all, a welcome to any newcomers to the blog. Glad to have you with us. I'd put out cookies, but I'm told that Internet cookies are generally unwelcome. And happy Labor Day to everyone. :)

On the regularly scheduled programming...

Once upon a time, I watched an episode of Bones in which Booth talks to Bones about old married couples who claim that they just saw each other and knew that they belonged together. Then, once upon a slightly later date, I read a column by Dan Savage who claimed that such a phenomenon is (and I'm paraphrasing) mostly caused by couples who've been together a while misremembering how they met and imagining that they always knew what they've now long for so long but didn't know at first.

I'm not going to say how I feel about actual life couples in this instance, but the difference between these views certainly reminds me of different perspectives on character-writer relationships. (Bet you didn't see that coming.)

I once heard a story that J.K. Rowling said that Harry Potter walked into her head fully formed. That would be, in my opinion, an example of the Bones case.

There is another way. I know that personally, characters usually do not march into my head fully formed. Instead, I tend to see snatches of their lives flashing before my eyes, not their whole self. For example, with Cordamant's Heir, I think the first thing I ever saw of Amira's life was her execution. There's a lot I'm still learning about her in the writing process. Or, with the Thief Book, the first thing I knew was the Code, then DiSpirito. The MC didn't arrive until later. I think of this as the Dan Savage style.

This got me wondering if characters do appear to some people in a magical vision or something. Maybe some characters really do appear before an author fully formed and demand to have their story told, a la Six Characters in Search of an Author. That hasn't been my experience, but I'm not the world's leading authority on the subject. Maybe people find a character slowly, but misremember is as happening in a flash. I don't know. I still remember where all of my MCs have come from, and so I doubt I"m likely to misremember them in the future.

I don't know if either method is better or worse than another. All I know is what works for me, and what works for me has been working pretty well so far.

How does it work for you? Do your characters come to you all at once or in bits and pieces? Do you get a mix of both? Do you have a preference? Fan of Bones?

Thief Book 3.0

On Saturday, I finished Draft 3 of the Thief Book. (Finally, a full fledged draft. Usually, they get hinky numbers like Draft 2.5. But that's a story for another time.) I'm happy.

This Draft is, in my mind, a significant improvement over the old draft. I expunged the melodrama in Chapter 3, broke Chapter 3 into two chapters to save it from being painfully long, and replaced the last 3k with an ending that didn't scream at the top of its lungs "I'm trying too hard!!!"

A step up from the last draft where I cut 38k, three characters (including one I'd intentionally written into the text), and changed the entire ending, this kept more than I tossed. I cut 5k, replaced a bit over 2k, and 3 scenes, each to replace with a smaller moment in a different scene. It certainly hurt a lot less this time around.

This might be, dare I say it, locked. Not that there won't be some tweaking with word choice and such things, but I think I've got the plots/events and emotional arcs set the way I like them. For the first time, I'm not setting the draft down for a break with a lingering, niggling sensation of something not being right. (Or, you know, having a whole list of things that need to be fixed.) I think I've finally hewn my wood into the proper shape, as it were. I'm feeling that good about it.

How are you guys coming along with your WIPs?

Easy Button Endings.

While I was in Canada, I had the chance to see the play Two Gentlemen of Verona by William Shakespeare. Overall, it was a good production of a play I'd call mediocre at best. (Sorry, Bill, I'm sure you tried. Still, you've done better.)

Really, this issue with Two Gents (and this will be delicately phrased to avoid spoilers) is the ending. In the middle of a scene of tremendous drama and conflict (or at least potential drama and conflict), there's a short pause wherein every character who is justifiably ticked off at one of the two gents just magically decides -- all at the same time, mind you -- that never mind, they're not mad anymore. As far as I'm concerned, someone might as well have hit an easy button in the hopes of wrapping the nonsense up quickly.



My objection to Easy Button Endings is quite simple: they're ridiculous.

Let me expand on that point before anyone gets offended. I know that claim sounds harsh, but I tend to find that any ending that wraps up ever single issue in the story in a single scene (especially in a very short scene) is radically oversimplifying human emotions or bypassing several perfectly legitimate reactions and responses a character could (and probably would) make in the hopes of creating a simple and neat solution.

I firmly believe that endings are the most important part.

(Yes, I had to invoke Secret Window. Always. If only because Johnny Depp is awesome.)

Therefore, when I see someone do something like this, or as I'd probably call it, blow the ending, I find myself tempted to drop the book and gripe to whoever's on hand (to the Other One's unending joy).

Endings should be good. They should be interesting, inventive, reasonable (read: physically possible and sense-making), and they should reflect the way these characters and, you know, actual humans might respond in the given situation.

For example, if a many tries to murder his girlfriend with an ax, most women would not leap at the chance to take that man back. If a character has a deathly phobia of spiders, she probably won't be carrying one in her purse just in time for it to come into play in the final scene.

If they ending doesn't work, the reader is going to feel very frustrated. And, as far as I'm concerned, they'll have a right to, because many readers (myself included) read for a resolution of some sort. They did their share of the work by reading the whole book, and it's only fair that the writer should do their share and write an ending worth getting to.

That, in my opinion, means taking the time to resolve the plot and resolve it in a way that makes sense and flows in terms of logic, the laws of physics, and human emotions.

I, myself, have occasionally been guilty of an Easy Button Ending. I'm editing the Thief Book and am scrapping the last 4.5 pages, because I took the easy way out and wrote an Easy Button Ending. I'd gotten tired, and the MS was running long, so I slapped an ending on there that doesn't logically track or make sense for the world of my story. Bad me. I shouldn't do that to a reader.

Do you share my frustration with Easy Button Endings? Do you not mind them? Have you ever felt like a writer was using an Easy Button to wrap it all up? Do you own an Easy Button? Do you share my love of Johnny Depp?

How Soon Is Too Soon?

On Wednesday, I gave into my compulsion and began revising my new ending to The Thief Book. Happy, happy, joy,joy. There's some serious changing going on, definitely cutting at least 2000 words, probably writing another 2000 or more. This'll be draft 3-ish. It'll be interesting.

A friend who Alpha read Draft 1 saw my revisions-in-progress and insisted I email her my newest work. I said, "Maybe after this draft." She prefers now. She's just got that sort of personality.

The part of me that wants to hear what someone else thinks would rather like me to send her draft 2.5. The part of me that knows that draft 2.5 contains bad dialogue, an unedited ending with lots of extra words, and a scene of ridiculous melodrama, say, "Mmm... I'm thinking no." I don't know just yet what side will win out.

This calls to mind for me a debate I had a few days ago with Captain Film Major about the writing process and, more specifically, early drafts.

It is my personal belief that a first draft is between a writer and maybe a trusted Alpha. However, I tend to let my first drafts only be scene by me. I like to keep my own schedule and let my own thoughts have a go first. Also, my first drafts tend to have unneeded scenes, excess prose, and poorly defined characters, because I'm often making things up as I go along and learning as I go.

Personally, I don't think the MS can defend itself against the criticism and critique of any other reader (who doesn't love it quite as much as I do) until it's in Draft 2 or 3 at least. Draft 1 is rough and no one needs to see that.

Captain Film Major endorsed getting another eye to look at one's work very soon in the process. In some ways, this view makes sense to me. When I worked on Miss Snitch, I gave the chapters to an Alpha as I wrote them. She could give me notes about the characters and plot arcs as they formed, which for that project I felt useful, since I was truly writing that one off the cuff and didn't always know if it all made sense. Sometimes, also, an Alpha can weigh in on plot and character and open a window for the story the author might not have seen before or notice a hole forming that the author is missing.

How do you feel about this issue? How long do you wait before showing your work to someone else? Does you time limit change with each project or are you always consistent?

Wait, That's Mine?

You ever hear those stories about writers accidentally putting a lot of their personal lives or personal histories into their works? Or that adage about writing what you know?

Well, from time to time, I think about my work and realize I pretty well tossed those things out the window. A lot of what I write doesn't bear a strong resemblance to my own life. More often than not, I'd say any resemblance is pretty weak. Sometimes, I look back on something I wrote and think, "Where in the center of the world did that come from?"

Charlotte, my MC from The Thief Book, is a staunch Catholic. So is Leo, her love interest, and Alessia, her mentor. I've known a lot of Catholics in my life, but I am not one. That's why, now that I think about it, I'm a little surprised about how much Catholicism there is in the text. I'm really not the most religious of people, and most people I know aren't overly observant, yet I somehow wrote a character who considers her faith one of the central and unshakable aspects of her life. That, in hindsight, does surprise me. I'm almost wondering where this girl came from in my mind.

Do you ever have such realizations about your work? Do you ever write something into your story and not feel wholly sure how that idea became part of your subconscious?

At the Beginning Again

That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I am once again starting fresh. Not at the beginning of The Thief Book, thank the powers that be of the universe. No, I'm writing again. Something new.

As I finished the rewrites on The Thief Book, I also finished a quick edit I'd been doing on Miss Snitch. And, when I thought about jumping right in and putting them into the book, my heart sort of sank, because it just made me think that all the writing I've been doing lately was rewriting and editing, rehashing and reshaping old ideas and characters instead of creating new ones. This made me sad.

So, I opened up a word document, pulled the idea that's been stewing for a month or so up to the front burner, and started typing. And you know what, I'm enjoying it. I'm enjoying it a lot. I'd forgotten how much fun writing a first draft could be.

I'm back at the beginning, and I couldn't be happier.

How are your writing endeavors going?

The Thief Book 2.5

That's it. I'm done. Well, done-ish.

Yesterday, I finished the rewrite of the Thief Book, the draft which I have dubbed version 2.5. Yes, 2.5, because my process is just special like that. And by special, I, of course, mean, in need to intense assistance, lots of moral support, and a strong cup of coffee. Except I don't like drinking coffee, so maybe I'll just offer it a strong mug of tea.

This would be more exciting for me, if I didn't know it were going to soon be followed by The Thief Book 3.0. /headdesk/ But, I'm not going to think about that fact or the three scenes in need of major rewriting at the moment. For now, I'll just let it sit on it's flash drive (long story, that), and wait while I pretend to work productively on something else.

Okay, I'm just going to say this. This draft got long. The first draft came in about 10k longer than I thought, and I cut a bunch of stuff from this draft, so I figured it would cut down to the intended size. Nope, it's shot up to 120% of its original size. That draft ate its Wheaties. That and two of my minor characters were gifted with a subplot during the rewriting process. What can I say, it happened while my back was turned.

But, in the mean time, I have plenty of other revisions and rewriting I can devote my time to. (Okay, now I'm rather wondering if it's just been too long since I pulled out a new idea and wrote from scratch. It's been a lot of rewriting lately. But, then again, this could be the fact that it's the middle of the night talking. So, please ignore the previous for the moment.)

Anyway, I hope you are all having a fabulous day. Hope the weather's lovely. It's actually been remarkably sunny here lately. It fills me with guilt, since I can't type outside so I'm indoors all the time. But, enough about me. How are you all doing?

Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch

So, I've been working on The Thief Book a lot lately. I'd hoped to have this draft done by the end of April, but outside forces changed things up. But, I made good progress, and by May 1st, I only had five scenes yet to go. No problem, right?

Well, it wouldn't have been a problem if I'd just been able to write those five scenes. The problem? Things just kept getting worse. Not for me. For my characters, I mean. I'm fine. But, in the process of rewriting the book, I'd upped some of the stakes along the way, which meant I had about three more problem strands for my characters that need to be resolved and otherwise dealt with. So, I can't just wrap things up super fast like I'd hoped.

Starting point: 5 scenes to go.
5000+words later: 3.5 scenes to go.
The currently very tired part of me wants to introduce my head to my desk repeatedly.

That's the other thing. My first typed copy of this book weighed in at 70k. Since I'd been imagining this book as more of a 60k story, I was quite surprised. (Well, it turns out I was a bit of an epic failure at estimating the length of my handwritten draft.) But, I'd assumed that during the rewriting of the end, I'd pare down 7-10k.

Guess what else I fail at. Making this thing shorter. It's already at 70.5k again, and I still need to write in 3.5 scenes. Minimum. (Head meet desk. Desk meet head. You two are going to be great friends. +_+) (Sorry about my humor. It's late and I didn't sleep too much last night.)

I guess this is the part when I'm happy I get more than two drafts. So, when I finish this draft up, I get to look forward to yet another round of slash and burn edits. **half-hearted fake cheer**

How is everyone else's writing going? Having fun with your WIPs?

Further Fidgeting and Fretting

As I said yesterday, fidgeting is something distinctive and unique to each person. The hard thing about having distinctive fidgets when one is pretending to be someone else on stage is that your character, being a different person, is not going to fidget the way you do. I know I'm having some difficulty removing my particular mannerisms and frets from my characters so that they can each be unique. And this got me thinking, I've got to do the same thing with my writing.

When I write, I need to get inside my character's heads and find out how they think, speak, and move. They obviously won't do any of these things just like the other characters. They're their own people. They're not each other, and they're certainly not me.

One thing I've noticed rewriting The Thief Book is that a lot of the main characters are sharing a particular mannerism of mine. Arching an eyebrow.

One of the things that frustrates Captain Film Major about me is my incessant use of my eyebrows. My friends in high school used to tell me that I'm fluent in Eyebrow. They might have a point. Using my brows, I can communicate, "Are you serious?!", "Would you please get over here now!", "What? I'm confused," "I am intrigued. Tell me more," "You're so totally into him/her." It's an expressive language.

But, here's the deal, Charlotte isn't me. Leo isn't me. DiSpirito isn't me. So, unlike me, they're not all going to be communicating with Eyebrow. (Unlike English, it's not a widely spoken language. The other fluent speakers seem to be The Other One and my best friend, though others I know are conversational. Which means, unlike English, I can't reasonably expect my characters to know it.) They're unique individuals, and I have to respect that and let them communicate as they would.

Writers must expunge their own characteristics from the book. While some of oneself can fall into the book, not every character should look like a replica of the author. The characters need to develop into full personages on their own, with their own fidgets and ticks, not the author's.

Do you ever have notice yourself or your mannerisms randomly appearing in your work? How do you deal with that? Do you ever find the author or his or her ways sporadically appearing in his or her work?

Fidgets and Frets

Right now, I'm acting in a play. The play is an interesting and intriguing experience, and acting is certainly different for me. But, one thing's that I've started to notice now that I have to look at the acting, instead of standing in the wings and looking at costume pieces or properties, is the fidgeting. It turns out, people move. Sometimes, they move without meaning to or without realizing what's going on.

What this got me thinking is that, since everyone fidgets in real life, characters must fidget in books.

People don't all fidget the same way. Most have a specific fidget that they use all the time. I play with one of the rings on my left hand or I fasten and unfasten my watch. (I'm sure other people love my fidgets, since they both produce a tiny clicky sound.) Those are my fidgets. One of the girls in the play has a habit of playing with her skirt, bunch it, smoothing it, tangling her hands in it. That's her fidget. Another girl is in the habit of moving her feet, generally shifting from one foot to the other and playing with them. That's her fidget.

All fidgeting is distinctive. So, character's fidgeting should be distinctive too. Those tiny things they do when nothing is going on with them or when their nervous or when they're bored, those things should be something they do and no one else. Because those things tend to be a part of a person that are just theirs. It should be the same for characters.

In The Thief Book, one of my characters tends to flip a certain coin when he's nervous or has a free moment or is thinking. I like the use of the coin in the context of the book. I like the flipping motion. And I really like that he's got a fidget. I like it.

Do you like fidgets and frets in book characters? Do you like writing them in your own characters? Any particular frets stand out in your mind in books you've read or written?

Good, Better, Best, And Yet...

Much to my chagrin, I am not a top-geek. I'd guess I'm about a 6 or 7 out of 10 on the Geek Scale.
I don't have an encyclopedic knowledge of Star-Trek, Star Wars, or Rocky Horror Picture Show. I haven't read Tolstoy, and my knowledge of Asimov is strictly a persistent (and correct) belief that people shouldn't design robots that can violate the three laws. I also haven't played chess in months. So, yeah, geek fail. But, if there's one thing I can geek out about is languages. Well, ones that I know, at any rate. (Sorry, my klingon and Elvish are both abysmal.)

I'm currently studying Chinese, and Chinese has these funky things call RVC verbs. Now, I've completely forgotten what RVC stands for, but it's basically an attachment to the verb to explain the state of the verb.

Now, I get it, this probably does not sound like something fun, interesting, or worth geeking out over. But, a while ago, I learn this RVC ending '完 wan,' which means 'to finish' and another '好 hao,' which is 'to finish properly and to satisfaction.' And these endings can be attached to the verb '寫 xie' which means 'to write.' When I learned that, I stopped and geeked out in my mind for about five minutes. I got pretty happy, because I'd learned a verb construction, a word, that we don't have in English to describe a common concept in my life.

Whenever I write anything, a report, a poem, a novel, there's going to be more than one draft. I never get it just right the first time. Tragically, I am a mere mortal. But, usually, if someone asks how it's going, I'll say, "Well, I've got something I can hand in." You know, failing all else and all efforts for improvement are barred, I've still got a complete. 寫完. There's something done.

But, let's admit it, first drafts are never perfect. There's probably weak character motivations, plot holes, and scenes that don't make sense because of changes you made later in the process. And once those things are done, there's probably writing that needs to tighten, factual consistencies to check, and other minor edits. It takes many drafts before a project can be close to 'finished.'

They say DaVinci carried the Mona Lisa with him all his life, because he never considered it truly finished. He was still working on it always. That was a man who understand the difference between a potential stopping point and being properly finished.

The Thief Book is currently in draft 2.5. It's still got quite a ways to go before it'll be 'finished.' I don't know if I'll ever consider it properly finished. But, that's always something to look forward to.

Okay, geeking out over.

How do you feel about your drafts? Do you think it's ever possible for a project to be 'finished'? When do you let a project go if it isn't 'finished'?

What do you like to geek out about?

Bye, Bye, Bye

So, I've been working on the end of The Thief Book. I've tapped out several scenes. Some are basically old scenes just retouched to fit the new details, others are accomplishing the same objectives as old scenes but are not the some, and one or two are entirely new scenes to blend it all together to fit the new ending.

But, the other day, when I flipped through my old draft to recapture mentally the objective of that scene, I noticed something. The two characters in the scene were Prince Leo (Love Interest Guy/Chief of Police) and Prince Drake (Heir to the kingdom/Leo's elder brother). That's when it hit me, Drake was redundant. See, Leo already has a little brother, Fisk, who is philosophical and special, and who had already been introduced into the story. And, quite frankly, they were filling the same role: sounding board for Leo's ideas/make Leo smarter than he is, because sometimes he's stupid and set in his ways.

Okay, in my mind, Drake and Fisk were not the same guy. Drake is a traditionalist, so he doesn't understand Charlotte (MC girl) either, but he's also highly pragmatic, which sometimes goes against Leo's insistence on obeying the rules no matter the cost. Fisk is philosophical, which makes him more likely to understand Charlotte's perspective, and he's more likely to think Leo's strict adherence to the rules is a bit cracked. So, they both counter Leo in a way I like.

But, they're both countering Leo. They're both achieving the same objective. Which means I don't need both of them. And, since I've already introduce Fisk, and I enjoy his moral flexibility (if I'm not a fan of his name), I'm keeping him.

Sad for Drake.

Okay, I've snipped characters from stories before, from this story in fact. However, this time feels like the first time, to me. Probably because this is the first time I cut a character who played a large part and who I'd actually envisaged in the tale and intentionally wrote in. I'll miss Drake. He was a nice bloke, in his way. Unfortunately, I'm playing Master of the Universe, and I have to be brutal.

This is going to sound a little cold, but characters in books must serve a function. And, it should be a unique function, otherwise they're not just taking up space without adding anything to what's going on.

Now I'm going to draw a comparison to Harry Potter, because I really like Harry Potter, and I've discovered it's an almost universal point of comparison and understanding. Hermione and Ron are both Best Friend characters. However, they don't fulfill the same function, even in that role. Hermione is the smart one who gives Harry wise advice and information that he wouldn't otherwise have but really needs. Ron provides camaraderie, support/back-up, and the male perspective on all issues. And they both, at one point or another (and often at the same time), provide conflict and drama. They fulfill different functions, so they both belong in the text.

Do you guys have much experience cutting characters? How did it make you feel? Have you ever run across characters that you found redundant? How did that make you feel?

Ideas Are Shiny

That's how I see it. Ideas are shiny. Really shiny. I could be sitting in a room of tinfoil reflecting sunlight, and ideas would win out 9 times in 10. I don't know where ideas come from or what they're made up of exactly, but whoever makes ideas must put in a lot of glitter.

Now, I say this, because I recently became rather distracted by an idea and wondered off from where I was meant to be going. What can I say, it was a seriously pretty looking idea. Too bad this was one of those times when I really needed to get a specific something done and not wander away.

Moving on...

I feel reasonably sure that I am not the only person who gets distracted by shiny ideas. Because, well, I'm not that special or hyper-distractable.

This sometimes happens to me in my writing. In the previous draft of my WIP, Charlotte (happy, happy MC) was supposed to be meeting Alberto (Close friend). Instead, she went off on a trip under the bridge to hang out with Luca & Co. (Other friends). A nice shiny idea that came with some interesting characters. Too bad that following the shiny took me so far from where I needed to go that it would take thousands of words to resurface on the path Charlotte needed to be on and to manage the related complications. So, it would seem, following the shiny doesn't always work.

However, sometimes, it's nice. One time with this WIP, I followed the shiny from Anna-Maria (a.k.a. the porcupine) to a minor invasion of her privacy (because, well, those things happen) to her boyfriend and her fabulous little subplot that I now really enjoy. The Shiny, it would seem, can sometimes lead us down some very interesting paths.

I guess what I'm advocating is giving the shiny its fair chance. It might lead to the witch's house of candy and cake, or it might lead to the big rock candy mountain. The shiny might be a risky bulb of light leading off into the marshes of death, or it could be that light at the end of the tunnel leading some place really awesome. Give the shiny its fair chance. Think about where it wants to lead you. It might be somewhere you want to go.

How do you feel about the Shiny? Do you get distracted by it sometimes? Where has it lead you in the past?

Feeling Fabulous?

During discussion of what makes a good thesis, a teacher once said, "You're thesis should make you think, 'Wow, that's interesting. I want to think more about that.' You don't have to think, 'Wow, that's possibly the best idea I've ever had,' -- though that'd be good -- but you should certainly think you've hit upon something great."

That made me think of the Chaucer in A Knight's Tale. During one of the scenes, he's introducing William (the MC) to a crowd and gives one of his characteristically amazing speeches, and when the crowd erupts in applause, he cries, "God, I'm good."

(About 4:10 to 4:42, if you want to watch. Had to put up the video. Paul Bettany is that good.)



I think we all know that writing is not like that all the time. We often enough look at the a hundred words (you, you know, ten thousand words) and say, "What in the name of ice cream was I thinking? This is ridiculous?" Then the delete key becomes your best friend.

But, every now and then, we write something and think, "Okay, that was fabulous."

A while ago, my friend read the line in The Thief Book,"Charlotte could smell him from where she stood several paces off. 'Would it kill him to bathe?' she wondered. Flavian, it seemed, thought it would," and she laughed aloud. That made my day. I got to think, "Yes, I'm good. That's what I do this for."

I think that's what we all do this for. We sweat and stress and cry over wording, characterization, story, and all the first. We work our hardest, all for that moment when everything comes together and it works. And, maybe, for once, we get to think, "God, I'm good."

How you thought that lately, in writing or in life? What elicited the emotion?

Predictably Unexpected

The other day, Piedmont Writer posed in a post an interesting question: "Do you ever do something to your book that was never in the way you originally saw it?"

Okay, this is currently happening to me with The Thief Book in a big way, since apparently my characters decided the new ending was a chance to Carpe Diem and totally change everything from what I'd expected. They want to talk about their feelings and grow as people and nonsense like them. (Curse them. Don't they know I've got a schedule and plans?) But that's a conversation for a different time.

Basically, what I'm trying to say is that I've a feeling most writers encounter a moment when the story just stops going to way we thought it was going to go. If it's not in the first draft where characters sometimes grab the wheel and drive off in whole other directions (and, let's face it, that happens), it's during the revisions, when you realize things need to change and go a different way or the characters decide to politely (or not so politely) inform you that they'd like to take things in a different direction. Today, I watched a vlog in which John Green stated he generally throws out 90% of his first draft. Things change in revisions.

But, this is a good thing. And, more than that, it's a natural, sort of unavoidable thing. A long time ago, Lady Glamis said something about everyone growing. (Sorry. I'd link to the original post, because it was pretty brilliant, except I couldn't remember the exact language, so Google wouldn't help me.) Anyway, to me, the ideas seemed related.

See, Glamis's post, if I may paraphrase, and if I'm not making too bold with the original content, said that over the course of the time it takes to write a book, we all learn a lot and grow as people and writers. Therefore, from the time we start the first draft to the time we end it, and even more from the time we write the first draft and the time we revise it to make the second (or later) draft(s), we could be in a very different place as writers. So, from there, we try to fix things up to be equal to where we are now. But, of course, we grow even more in that time, so it's an unending cycle.

Well, it seems to be that sometimes, we're getting jumped and surprised by our stories, because we've grown more than we thought. So, all of a sudden, these ideas and realizations come to us that we didn't see or think about before, because now we are wise enough to see them.

So, I'm warning y'all know, you're going to be surprised. You'll be surprised by your ideas, your characters, your writing, and even yourself. It's going to happen. Expect the unexpected.

Okay, sharing time: whose been taking by surprise lately? Anyone's writing/ideas/characters do something really crazy and unexpected lately?

Back to Basics

A while ago, I read a post on someone's blog (I don't remember whose, unfortunately. If you have any idea, feel free to tell me) about getting back to the basics of one's story. I think the post was about remembering what the story was about as you write it.

I think this is very important. One has to remember what the story is really about, what tale one is actually trying to tell, or there's a pretty good chance the story is going to run all over the place and look like a half-baked version of four or five things. That's not what we want. I'm not disputing that there can be more than one story going on at once, but we'd like everything to be fully baked, wouldn't we.

I've come up to think problem myself. Working on The Thief Book, I realized that one of the reasons I really didn't like the ending I'd written was because it looked like a whole different story. I'd somehow lost track of the story I'd been telling -- which I really liked -- and accidentally got into some weird other sort of thing. I knew I needed to get back to the basics of the story and work from there.

I think that getting back to the basics of the story, the real kernel of it all, is very helpful. If you sense you're floundering in the story or don't know where to go from where you're at, ask yourself what you basic story is, what tale you're trying to tell. Use those basics to get a handle on where you are. This will allow you to focus on the one idea at a time and not going wandering off into the misty marshes of randomness.

Caveat: If you're a panster, you're probably not going to know what the basics are until you've got your first draft to work with, or maybe until you're pretty well into the draft. But, when you're re-figuring your story with what you've got, knowing your basic point can still be very helpful.

How do you feel about the basics of your story? Do you attempt to keep in line with the basics? Do you spend a lot of time trying to get back to those basics?

Happy Catchup Time

As you might remember, I got behind in my goals for the week. And I just couldn't let that stand.

So, yesterday, I grabbed my edits on The Thief Book and typed and fixed, and I made it all the way up to where I would have been if life hadn't interfered with my process. Which means, only 6 more pages to go, and I'll have finished getting in all my line edits on Part 1.

Now, I won't consider this portion of the book 'set' until I've gone back and inserted the Ideas I had while editing. Yes, there were a few nice thought bubbles that formed during my editing process, so now the fronts of both parts are bedecked with post-its. Now, I just need to slip them in where they belong.

Still, I'm willing to call Friday's work a victory. Really, it's a bit of a tie, from what I'd hoped to get done, but all things considered, I feel comfortable departing the field and calling it a win.

I hope everyone else is having a smashing weekend and fabulous Saturday.

How are your writing goals/life goals coming along? Any plans nearer to fruition? Any nice thought bubbles lately or good news?

Faith in Equal Powers

Okay, everyone, repeat after me: My reader is not an idiot.

The readers of books are intelligent, rational beings (you know, in general. I'm allowing for a certain degree of wingnuttery in counting as rational). They aren't idiots. And we shouldn't treat them like they are.

Since reader's are a clever bunch, they get what the writer is telling them. Often the first time around. Sometimes, it bears repeating, especially if it's a complex point or one that's been building up over multiple scenes, or is really important. But, by the third time, the reader's pretty much got it.

We've got to trust our reader's to know what we're saying. If we don't trust them, they'll be able to tell, and they'll just upset, chuck the book on the floor, and read something else that treats them with a little more respect. The repetition makes a reader want to say, "Yep, got it. Not an idiot over here. Move it along." It's not nice to treat people like they aren't smart enough to understand.

I'm super-guilty of this. I'm looking back over the Thief Book, and I think I repeated the basic point (not a very important one, mind you. Just a bit of info I intend to reference later) about 9 times in the first 5 chapters. Even I wanted to say, "People aren't stupid. They get it." So there's plenty of crossings out on those marks.

I'm not claiming that every reader is a rocket scientist/neurosurgeon/creator of literary masterpieces the likes of which I cannot fathom capable of comprehending incredibly complicated schemes the first time through with only minor explanations. But, I am saying that you should treat the reader like your intellectual equal. Have faith that they can grasp things as well as you can.

Things should be explained in relationship to their level of complexity (at least once, most of the time), repeated often as necessary (one rinse and repeat often doesn't hurt), and summed up neatly if the occasion warrants it (which, if you're schemes been put together over several scenes, might bed the case).

For more discussion on trusting your reader, click here.

Do you trust your reader? Do you feel you sometimes don't put enough faith in the reader? Do you put too much faith in them?