500 Club (2/23)

Happy Thursday! It’s time for the 500 Club!

Before we get to today’s prompts, here’s a quick recap of the rules.

  1. Choose one of the prompts below.
  2. On your blog, write a 500-word story or scene based on the prompt.
  3. Post a teaser to your story in the comments below with a link to where we can read the rest.

Easy, right?

Here are today’s prompts:

1. Create a character who is the opposite of you and write a scene from his or her point of view. Be sincere. Honest. Don’t judge your character.

…or…

2. Write a flash fiction story with the opening: “The day the sun went dark…”

Happy writing!

Turning Your Rough Drafts Into Gems

(I know it's not quartzite, but it's pretty.)

“Mom, what does sandstone turn into?”

My daughter recently finished a geology unit at school, and was quizzing me on the things she’d learned.

“Quartzite,” she said. “What does the sandstone need to turn into it?”

She didn’t really wait for me to answer. “Heat, pressure and time.” She launched into an explanation of the process, using her hands to illustrate the pressure transforming the metamorphic rock.

It got me thinking about writing. (Okay, most things make me think about writing.)

The process writers go through transforming a work from first draft to finished project is similar.

The writing process requires heat, in the form of energy, passion.

It requires pressure, in the form of revision. Putting each sentence under scrutiny, and making it do as much work as possible.

And it requires time. Time for writing. Time for letting a manuscript simmer. Time for critiques and revisions. Time to cultivate the next idea.

Remove any part of the process and you don’t end up with a finished project. You still have sandstone instead of quartzite. And what is sandstone, compared to quartzite? Weak. Brittle. Unable to stand the test of time.

I guess the takeaway is simple: trust the process. Provide the energy. Do the work. Give it time. You may just end up with a gem.

What’s inside the heart of a story? Slice it open and see.

This week, we’re talking about the emotional core of your story. Tying back into what I was saying last week about endings: you can’t write a proper ending unless you’ve tapped into the emotional core of your story. Without an emotional core you might create something entertaining, but not something memorable.

The best thing I’ve ever read on the subject is this post by Chuck Wendig, who argues that while a story can be about any subject, and deal with any emotional theme, the core of the core is always sadness “like the black cyanide seeds at the heart of the apple.” He uses the notably un-sad movies Star Wars and Die Hard to make his point. I agree with him absolutely. Why?

Because in the end, everything dies, even you and I. It is only the hope that some force, call it God or love or the human soul, is so powerful as to fall outside the brutal entropy of time, only that blind, willing hope, that enables us to shuffle on as human beings.

The thought that we can create something outside of ourselves, a story that will touch others long after we have crumbled to dust, is what drives to us create. It’s the closest to immortality you can quantifiably get. I lived. I loved. Don’t forget me when I’m gone.

There is a desperate sadness in that; and your sadness may be leavened with joy or pragmatism or fear, depending on your personal beliefs, but the sadness is the one constant, the absolute universal, the pain of being human. And that is why it’s the core of the core.

Any story needs conflict. Conflict is two things: suffering, and resistance to suffering, which often begets yet more suffering. We are amused by this because we understand it intrinsically. (And comedians understand it best of all. You laugh, so you don’t cry.)

So the conflict, the plot, is easy. What’s harder is finding the grace notes; the killing line of dialogue, the expert conveyance of mood through setting, the tone of your particular word choice — every single sentence should do more than simply advance the plot. All these elements must work together to build your story’s broken heart. If you do it well enough, that broken heart will beat all the same.

Listen.

 

Endings Never Come Last

For me, writing the ending of a story is the easiest. I think this is because it isn’t the last thing I write. In fact, I would go as far to say it’s the catalyst that gets me to write the story.

Let me break down my process, for the most part.

It’s the heightened physical reaction I get when I figure out the end of my story.

First comes the initial idea. Whatever it is, be it an interesting character, place, concept, or event. Doesn’t really matter which, as long as it’s interesting. Then I start writing. I just throw words on the page. Doesn’t matter if it’s clunky or chronological as long as I’m getting the words out. Then it happens.

Some might call it divine intervention. Some might say the muse spoke to them. Still others might swear that alien lizard people summoned them from another dimension to scry their inner-most secret plans. Me, I call them goosebumps. That’s right.

Goosebumps.

I get covered in them. It’s the heightened physical reaction I get when I figure out the end of my story. At this point I’m usually only two to three thousand words in. Put another way, that’s about eight to twelve pages into the novel. At that point, I have to write the ending or risk forgetting it.

After that, I’ll outline all the rest before I continue writing. Edit. Revise. Repeat.

I look for the goosebumps. I need the goosebumps. When I read the ending when I’m done writing it, the goosebumps have to be there. No goosebumps, no story.

There’s been a few times I’ve written through some ideas without a single bump. Not one raised hair. In those instances, I put the story down and moved on to the next story. That’s not to say that the goosebumps won’t come later. Better late than never. And since it got filed away (because we never throw things away), it’s easy to go back to it.
So when do you write your endings? At the end? Beginning? Or are you the Robert Jordan type and keep writing and writing and writing, without a care in the world for endings?

500 Club (2/16)

Feel like you’re dragging today? Finding it tough to tackle that blank page? Sounds like you can use a little stretch, some creative calisthenics. A quick writing prompt will get you going in no time.

Here’s what to do:

  1. Write 500 words based on one of the two prompts below.
  2. Post it to your blog.
  3. Give us a small taste in the comments below along with a link to the full text.

And now on to the prompts:

1. Your Senses: Write 500 words focusing on the sense of touch.

2. Writing Challenge: Break outside of your comfort zone. Write 500 words from the point of view of someone unlike yourself. Examples: Little person, amputee, autistic, or deaf.

*Feel free to change the name or sex of the characters as needed.

Harvey Is Dying

Featured

Harvey's namesake

There are few things that can bring a true writer down. A writer can write even when he or she doesn’t feel like it. A writer writes even when more questions are written then answers. A writer writes because that’s what writers do. That being said, I think I’ve encountered an issue to bring my word count to a trickle.

My computer is dying.

Harvey, my name for my laptop, has been a trusty workhorse for more than six years. From coffee shops to conventions, Harvey has been a companion to which I’ve spent countless hours. I’ve stayed up late into the night to help him through a few viruses. Updated him in timely matters. Kept him safe inside a nicely padded bag. When his battery finally gave out, I stuck by him and a close by outlet. And when the cord started to expose the wiring, I diligently taped it up.

Alas, now I can hear the death rattle in his spinning hard disk, drastically undersized compared to today’s standards. There were days when I had to wake him three or four times before he started to function at just a shadow of his former glory. His stop-stutter response to each keystroke or lagging cursor desperately trying to keep up with my tracing finger are signs I can no longer ignore. I must close Harvey’s screen for a final time.

He will be missed for there is no way I can replace him. At least not currently. Of my three stations I work between, he took the brunt of my creative time. The home computer offers little in the way of a quiet enough setting and I exercise stealth when writing at work, but neither offered me the mobility of network capability as Harvey. So how will I carry on?

I will be forced to drag out the ancient relics of pen and paper.

That’s right. Do today’s kids even know how to use these or what they were for? Well, my plan for the time being will be to write things longhand, and when the opportunity strikes, I’ll manually transfer it to the more well-known digital format. Sure, it’ll slow things down, but let’s look for that silver lining.

I can still write. Being I’m a writer and that’s what writers do, that’s a good thing. Two, while I’m typing it up, I get a chance to edit it. Almost like a second first draft. At this point I’m not fully in edit made, but glaring errors are hard to miss.

So I will soldier on. Maybe one day there will be a laptop to fill the void Harvey has left. It won’t be soon. (Unless anyone knows of some really good deals. *ahem*) Until then, I will write when I can, and what matters most to me. And to Harvey I offer a three key solute.

[Ctrl] + [Alt] + [Del]

500 Club (2/9)

It’s time once again for the 500 Club, the little flash-fiction game that could!

How to play:

  1. Choose one of the two prompts below.
  2. Write a 500 word flash based on the prompt, and post it to your blog.
  3. Drop a link in the comments below so we can read the rest. Give us the first line or two to bait the link.

Today’s prompts are based on misunderstandings:

1. Everybody thought Mary was the nicest girl.

…or…

2. Dear John. Let me clear up a few things for you.

 

Oh dear! Have fun and happy writing!

Writer, Interrupted

It’s confession week. Here’s my confession:

My writing has been hampered of late.

Here’s my reason:

Ouch.

A couple of weeks ago, I cut my finger catching a broken drinking glass. Stitches and steri-strips and numbing shots, oh my!

Needless to say, I’m behind in just about everything. But the good news is today I got my stitches out and I am typing this post 100% unhindered. Hooray!

This means it’s time for me to get back to writing. And if any drinking glasses should throw themselves hari-kari from the countertops again, I shall LET. THEM. FALL.

Working the Middle

It’s easy to get lost in your own story. After all, you’ve created these wonderful characters to spend your time with, and sent them on incredible, if sometimes unbelievable, adventures. You might also have painted lush settings ripe for exploring. Then there comes the day when you pull away from the story, look around and say…

“Where the hell is this all going?”

If you can’t answer this question, you need to stop right where you are and figure it out. Otherwise, you’ll write yourself in circles with material that will all end in your Deleted Scene File (You are keeping a DSF, aren’t you?)

I’m going to throw you a couple of suggestions to help you answer that question. For this next part, I’ll be speaking mainly to the pantsers out there. The outliners don’t seem to struggle as much with this part of the story. Although that shouldn’t stop you from trying it. Just because you have an outline doesn’t mean you have to stick to it.

1.

Try going back to a key turning point in your story. Change what happens, and write about 1,000 words based on the new outcome. Does it work better? Does it resolve the wall you might have bumped into? Whichever scene you decide to go with, throw the other in your DSF. That way you can change it back without the extra work.

2.

Try a character interview. In separate document, throw out a bunch of questions to one of your characters. Of course you’ll ask important questions related to motives and personal goals, but don’t forget to throw in some random questions, too. Ask things like “What is it about your favorite junk food that keeps you snacking?” or “What is your most useless talent and how did you develop it?” Just make sure it’s an open-ended question, and you might be surprised at the gold that can surface. Maybe a character has a talent you didn’t realize that would take you to the next part of the story. These random questions also help jog your brain to look at your story from a new angle. That’s always helpful.

3.

Put the story down and write something else for a while. The worst thing you can do as a writer is to stop writing. If you come to an impasse and can’t find a way out, you probably need more time to find the right solution. That’s okay. It happens. In the mean time, don’t let your craft suffer by not writing at all. That will guarantee a prolonged wait to your ending. Maybe even indefinitely.

These are several things that I’ve used and found helpful. If you have tricks of your own, please share them in the comments. I’d love to try them.

Stuck in the Middle

This week we’re talking about middles. Not middles as in waistlines. Middles as in that section of your novel that connects your brilliant beginning with your stunning conclusion.

Middles can get murky. They can catch you like quicksand and suck you down to oblivion. Stall you out like the doldrums. Cut you off at the knees.

Okay, enough dramatic cliches.

There are some telltale warning signs you’re headed into a swampy slowdown.

You might be in trouble if:

  • Your character stares out the window, thinking
  • Two characters pass the time talking about what’s happened up to that point, rehashing information they both know but are saying anyway for the reader’s benefit
  • You take up wide swaths of chapters describing the scenery in minute detail while your characters sits at a table doing nothing

Do you see a common denominator? No movement.

The key, I’m quickly learning, to getting through the murky middle is to keep your characters actively moving through the story. In order for them to do so, you’re going to need…

A plot.

I used to be a pantser. I would sit at the keyboard and wait for the story to land in my head and flow through my fingers. And too many times my novels fizzled about halfway through.

I had no plot.

And then I read Save the Cat, by Blake Snyder. And I learned how to map out my story before writing it.

Guess what? It worked.

I’ve written two manuscripts since I learned how to Save the Cat, and both times, I’ve zoomed right through the middle. My stories maintained their energy and the momentum carried them through to the conclusion. Yay!

Now, you might be shaking your head, thinking outlining and plotting aren’t for you. That’s fine. We all have our own processes. But the next time you find yourself stuck in the middle, you should consider evaluating where your character is, where you need him to be, and how to get him there before you write another word. It’s okay. Your character will wait for you. He’s not doing anything anyway. He’s just staring out the window.