Confessional Classic: 3 Tips to Make Your Writing Stronger

The PLC is on vacation, please to be enjoying some of our favorite posts from the vault. Happy Holidays!

This week’s 3 Things… theme is 3 Things I wish I’d known then. Here are three pieces of advice on writing I wish I had understood as a wee moppet with 12 point Courier twinkling in my eyes.


Cutting is Not Losing. You write your novel. You print it, read it, and realize something doesn’t work. An entire subplot doesn’t work. Maybe 10,000 whole words don’t work.

I used to cling to those smelly scenes, unable to “waste” my work by such merciless cutting. But here’s the thing:  Serious cutting doesn’t make your work disappear. Every word you write is a step in the right direction. Every word you write makes you a better writer. Being able to see that something doesn’t work just means you’re a better writer now than you were when you first wrote that storyline. Cutting 10,000 words that don’t work isn’t a loss. It’s a gain.


Take Tiny Bites. Writing a novel, revising a novel, these are huge projects. They can be overwhelming. And when you have a lot of work on your plate, it can send you into a tailspin.

I used to let the sheer enormity of my own ambition overwhelm me, sending me straight into writer’s-block-land. But I have found if I tighten the scope of what I need to do on any given day, my project becomes much less intimidating. Don’t worry about the next 50,000 words. Only worry about the next scene. One scene a day. Start with that, and you’ll find yourself doing more.

Don’t Use The First Idea. This advice came to me from the incomparable Jim Sallis. Once I really understood it, it became one of the most valuable pieces of writing advice I have ever received. Our first impulse is often generic. So don’t use it. I’m not talking about those brilliant-gut flashes you get, I’m talking about everyday writing-work.

Here’s an example:

One of the characters in my current work in progress is a servant. She was caught doing something wrong and was to be punished by her master. I thought I would have her whipped. Because when I did something very wrong as a child I would get a spanking.

I started to write the scene. As I wrote I realized a whipping would be boring. Everyday. So I stopped. I thought about my setting (a bedroom), thought about the disciplinarian (a power-hungry sadist), and I thought about my servant and what would hurt her the most. What I wrote instead of the whipping surprised me. It wasn’t obvious. It made me sick to my stomach afterward.

And every time I read that scene now, I get chills.

So what about you? What do you know now as a writer that you wish you’d known then? I’d love to hear it.


Confessional Classic: That Is The Question

This week we’re reaching back into the archives. I originally wrote this post in January of last year. Coming up on January of a new year, I find it’s still true. I hope you do as well. Wishing our American readers a wonderful Thanksgiving!

That Is The Question

This week our subject is kick starting your writing. I planned to write about my favorite writing prompt and talk about how I get my stories off the ground. But I just read a chapter from Ignore Everybody: and 39 Other Keys to Creativity by Hugh MacLeod — chapter 13, “If you accept the pain, it can’t hurt you” — and it kind of hit me like a two-by-four.

Here’s the gist:

Any creative endeavor is going to require you making necessary sacrifices. Making sacrifices is painful. If you succeed in your creative endeavor, the sacrifices were worth it. If you don’t succeed, you’ve still gained valuable experience from trying.

But not trying? Not trying brings a pain worse than failure.

MacLeod suggests it’s best to undertake any creative endeavor with the idea you won’t receive any recognition for your work, and that it won’t be worth the time or effort or sacrifice. If you take on a project with this mindset, you strip away any frivolous or secondary motivations (e.g., money, fame, movie options, awards), and you’re left face-to-face with a simple question.

“Do you make this damn thing exist or not?”

When I read that question, I set the book down and took a mini existential trip. I analyzed my motives. Why am I a writer? Why do I sacrifice time with my family and friends to write? What if my work amounts to nothing? Do I still sit my butt in the chair? Do I still stare at that blinking cursor and wait for my characters to whisper in my ear?

Is holding a completed manuscript in my hands worth the effort, even if I’m the only person who ever reads it or even know it exists?

MacLeod then says, “Once  you can answer that honestly for yourself, the rest is easy.”

He’s right. After I thought about my answer, I felt liberated. All that other stuff fell by the wayside and it was just me and my story. It was simple. And I couldn’t wait to get back to work.

I guess that’s one way to kickstart your writing. Or, I guess depending on your answer, kill it completely.

Getting productive with the produce

I must confess: I’ve been stepping out with a tomato.

I hate to strut on in to the confessional box, but I’ve been kicking ass and taking names this month, for I have discovered the mental nitrate that is the pomodoro. Pomodoros are very simple: here’s how you do one.

  1. Get a timer and set it for 25 minutes
  2. While the timer is running, work steadily on your task. Do not answer your phone, check your email, facebook, twitter. Do not go to the bathroom. You are WORKING, and nothing else, for the next 25 minutes.
  3. When the timer goes off, pencils down. Midsentence, mid thought. Stop. Pat yourself on the back and reset for 5 minutes. This 5 minutes is exclusively for farting around. Go bumble around in the kitchen, do some sun salutations, play with a rubix cube, give your kid a wet willie. Whatever. You can look at the internet if you want, but total disconnection from the machine is most restful.
  4. 5 minutes up? Mark an X on a spare sheet of paper. You have completed one pomodoro. Set your timer back at 25 minutes and go again.

The imposed structure of the pomodoro technique means that you work through the hard stuff, where you’d normally get frustrated and take a break (never to return) and stop when you’re hot, so that you’re chomping at the bit to get back to it. The breaks keep you from burning yourself out, so you can work all morning and not feel washed out for the rest of the day.

I started doing my pomodoros with an egg timer, because I find the quiet ticking sound to be essential— it’s unobtrusive but reminds me that time is running out. After a few days I switched to the free Android app, PomLife. I like the app because I can tweak the settings to have a faintly audible ticktok and a vibrating buzzer, which is ideal for working when the kid’s in bed.  I can also keep to do lists, and it’s really gratifying to see that, for example, it took me 10 pomodoros to complete the edits I received from my last class submission.

I don’t do poms every day, only on those occasions when I don’t get a chance to write until after 8 pm, and I’m wiped from my daily hausfrau grind. It’s only 25 minutes. I mean….…I can do that. And once I do one, I can usually kick out another. Now I’m in a groove where I’m putting in solid work every single day and feeling very encouraged by the results. Steady, flowing, unblocked— it’s a fantastic feeling, and I recommend it to anyone who’s got something that needs doing. So, you know, everybody.

Writing Slump? Journals Help

Slumps happen. For me, slumps revolve around time management, or really, my pitiful lack thereof. All it takes is one day of not writing, and the next day is that much harder to get the words out. To make matters worse, the level of difficulty I have in getting back to it, is compounded each day I don’t write.

So how do you break this vicious downward spiral?

Here’s something I’ve found works for me.

When I first started on this writing journey, I compiled journals with thoughts and ideas. I attended Creative Writing classes and kept all of the notes and short pieces based on writing prompts. At the time of writing them, I had no idea were to go with these small bits. Some ideas I didn’t feel my craft was up to it yet. Others were shuffled in and lost amongst an onslaught of creative whims.

Writing those journals boosted me to where I am today, helped hone my craft. So why couldn’t they help again? During a rather long writing slump, I cracked open one of my old writing journals. Honestly I think I did it to waste time, because when you’re reading, you’re not writing. But a funny thing happened.

As I was reading those old entries, my brain remembered the sensations of when I first created them. That spark I was missing was suddenly there again. I used that spark and applied it to the tinder of my current project. The flames did follow.

It took a bit to get back into a regular groove, but that initial kick in the pants wouldn’t have happen without my old writing journals.

“But S.C.,” you might ask, “what if I’ve never started a writing journal?”

To which I would answer, “Then what better time to start?”

Get yourself a journal. It doesn’t have to be fancy. If you get an odd idea, even if it’s only a phrase or name, write it down. Partake in a writing prompt. There are plenty of books filled with prompts, or visit here every Thursday for the 500 Club (or dive through the 500 Club archive on any day). It’s not necessary to act on everything you write down. Just keep adding. Eventually an idea will so fully engross you, you’ll have to give it your undivided attention. Keep the book, though. Keep recording ideas.

And when that nasty slump comes on, you’ll have another tool at your disposal to shake it off.

Greasing the mental wheels: What to do when you’re stuck

Being stuck mid-story is a miserable feeling. Taking some time off seems like the natural solution, but it can misfire, badly. A walk around the block and a cup of tea is a break that may help you, letting your laptop get dusty for three weeks while you avoid the problem will only make things worse. If you’re not letting a completed draft ripen in your desk

Despite all my rage, I'm still just a drunk moose in a tree...

drawer between full revisions, taking more than a day away from your work is a mistake.

And when we get stuck, what is really going on? We’ve written ourselves into a corner and have become inflexible, unwilling to toss the work we’ve put in, even if it’s not working for us. We’re trapped in our own heads, unable to see a solution. All we see is the problem.

 

TALK TO SOMEBODY. You are frustrated. Get it out. Talking aloud will engage a different part of your brain, allowing you to examine your problems in a different light. Find someone who is a good listener, willing to tolerate frustrated rambling, someone who will be sympathetic, who may ask open-ended questions about your problem instead of trying to offer solutions. You do not want someone else to offer you solutions, no matter how well-intended. You do not want someone else to try to write your story for you. What do you want is someone who will listen to you spin your wheels until you get yourself unstuck naturally. If you don’t have anyone like in your life, you can be that person for yourself. Here’s how.

Open up your notebook or word processor and start writing about the problem. Express your negative feelings. Vent like a madman. And then… go past that and begin brainstorming. What else could happen in your story that would cut that knot? A new character? A different locale? Should your protagonist make a different decision earlier in the story? Could you cut that broken scene altogether without losing anything? Could you start at a different place in the timeline?

What do your characters want? Invite them into the conversation. Let them speak in their own voices about the story. Give them the opportunity to explain themselves- you’ll find if you prod them they’ll open up to you- mine are always vocal once I give them the mike.

Don't let the voices in your head be shy...

Above all, don’t allow yourself to be limited by what you’ve already written. Cutting can be scary, so don’t do it just yet. Instead, open up a new document and write something new: try out a scene from a different point of view, look for unexamined points of conflict and explore them. Allow yourself to riff and play, noodle around and jam out. Be free, have fun. Remember why you started doing this in the first place and just enjoy the sensation of creating something new. When the dust settles, you just might have a new scene that solves your problems. It’s hard to cut, unless you’ve got something awesome sitting in “ALT THIRD SCENE.DOC” just waiting for you to paste it into the manuscript.

If you’ve discussed your problems and tried some zero-pressure rewrites and are still thwarted and uninspired, it might be time to let go of that story and start another project. That’s okay. Not everything works. The worst thing you could do is stop writing altogether- that’s how writer’s block is born.

Distraction-Free, Full-Screen Text Editors: Can They Help?

Like most writers I know, I use Microsoft Word to do the bulk of my writing. I’ve looked around for other software, but none can compare to the editing power of Word. The only things that it’s missing (okay, one of the things that it’s missing) is a Distraction-Free, Full-Screen Text Editor (DFFSTE). Continue reading

Three Sneaky Tricks to Slide in Settings

You can’t fly without solid ground beneath you. Nope. You can’t. You can’t get momentum. There’s no light, no wind. Just an empty void.

And by “fly,” I mean write, of course.

I also mean imagine. And most of all, I mean telepathically commune with whoever reads your words. No one is going to be able to follow your plot if your story isn’t grounded in a believable setting. They’ll be too distracted, trying to figure out if the story is unfolding in a greasy spoon or a daycare or a very small hole in the ground.

But the devil of it is, nobody likes reading huge tracts of expository land. Well, a few people do, but honestly, exposition-lovers are an anomaly. Personally, I hate writing setting via exposition and I double-hate reading it. So, here are my tricks to slide in setting, and yes, they are all interrelated.

Work in setting through dialogue.

“Scalpel,” said Dr. Singh.

Where are we? Probably an operating room. A BIG WARNING ABOUT THIS TRICK- do NOT have your characters say things like, “Wow it’s a beautiful day here in sunny Tampa, isn’t it Sybil?” People don’t talk like television announcers. Setting via dialogue should only happen through dialogue that is contextually related to the plot.

Work in setting through detail.

I picked the scalpel up off the grass, wiped the edge with a leaf, and handed it to him.

Oh God, we’re not in an operating room. We’re outside? Cleaning surgical equipment with LEAVES? Is this guy really a doctor? (Note: go back and change Dr. to Doc and you’ve got yourself a medic, who would most definitely be using a scalpel outside.)

Show setting through the character’s eyes.

I held my breath, tasting the sweat on my lips, as Dr. Singh sliced into the spore-burrow on Rachel’s forearm. Hail Mary full of Grace, the Lord is with thee. Rachel gasped, but held steady as the doctor dug. Blessed art thou among women. The hot evening wind began to rise, rippling the grass around us, making tiny whips of my hair. The Doctor paused, and I shifted around so that he could work in the lee of my body. He nodded once, grunted and dug his fingernails into the bleeding flesh. And blessed is the fruit-

“Ha,” said the doctor, plucking out the spore. He flung it down and I watched it quiver in the double-dusk as it expired, my prayer answered and broken by the sight of it. A pack of kraggen coughed in the distance, attracted, no doubt, by the scent of Rachel’s blood on the wind.

God I hate Capra-9.

Well now we know, we’re not in Kansas anymore. We’re on Capra-9, so it’s probably the future. We’re outside. It’s evening. It’s hot. And it’s hostile.

If you must have pure exposition to round out your setting, and you probably will, keep it to a minimum. Any pure exposition you do write ought to be as clean and graceful as you can make it, and if it is coming from a view-point character, it should be infused with their personality. My protagonist hates the setting he/she is in, so he/she probably has lots to say about it. In this scene I would do that and then I would pull out of his/her head and back into the moment, taking care to provide more sensory details- colors, sounds, scents, sensations, general temperature, light source and quality. I’d definitely fiddle and tweak with the inner-thought to outer-action ratio so as not to slow the scene down too much. I might even chose to hold off on the inner-thought bits until later. Whatever works best for the flow of the story.

And there you are, three sneaky tricks that gives the reader gets all the setting they need without forcing them to wallow through a turgid block of text. If you’ve got any tricks of your own, please share ‘em in the comments.

Save the Cat and Keep ‘em Reading

Can you escape a dystopia in under 500 words? THE BREAK is up at Brain Harvest. Go read it and see.

That was awesome, wasn’t it? And now, today’s post.

Amy’s recent rave review of Save The Cat inspired me to get my own copy. She and other writers have praised Blake Snyder’s system of organizing a screenplay (or novel). It’s the outline for pantsers, apparently.

Well, I would love to tell you that I sat down, read the entire book, and immediately adopted the system, but the truth is that I haven’t made it past the book’s opening. Not because StC is bad, but because StC knocked my block off in the first pages, and whenever that happens with a book on writing, I stop reading and think until I’m all thunked out.

The first thing your protagonist should do is save the cat.

Or tell off a bully. Or comfort a friend. Something small but kind, something that makes the reader understand who this person is, and more importantly, something that makes the reader like and identify with the protagonist. Even if he’s an antagonist, hell, especially if he’s an antagonist.

No one is horrible all the time, everyone carries within them the spark for redemption. So maybe your antagonist robs a store- and gives some of the money to a soup kitchen. Or better yet, maybe he’s got partners in that store heist that decide to rape the girl behind the counter, and your antagonist stops them. Maybe he does it in a sneering, smarmy way, but he still stops them. In that case, saving the cat is committing the lesser evil, but it still makes you like the guy. He’s a jerk, but he’s an interesting jerk. He makes you want to keep reading.

Liiiiiightbulb!

And yes, Gru from Despicable Me is a perfect example of this- in his opening scene he teases a little kid, freezes everyone in line at Starbucks with an ice gun, takes someone else’s coffee- and tips the barista. Perfect. He’s weird, ugly, and selfish, and we already like him. Even his crime is pure wish fulfillment- I mean, who hasn’t longed to freeze everyone ahead of them in line at Starbucks with an ice gun?

So whether your hero is a goodie or a baddie, make a strong first impression. Save the cat!

What Are You Waiting For?

It happened again the other night. I’d made a new acquaintance, and in the course of our chatting, the subject of writing came up.

“I have an idea for a story,” she said. “I’ve even written some of it.”

“Why don’t you finish it?”

“Yeah, I should. I will. Someday.”

Someday.

On Monday, a fellow writer and friend of mine passed away after a very brief battle with cancer. Her death was sudden. Shocking. My first thought on hearing the news was, “How is this possible?” My second thought was, “She never finished her novels.”

To my knowledge, she’d written three, but never completed them. I don’t know why, but I suspect it had something to do with Someday.

Not long ago, Laurie Young wrote a guest post here at the PLC called Writing Scared. Please read it. Laurie put a lot of wisdom into that post, wisdom that has hit home for me this week.

Yeah. Writing scares me. Well, not so much the writing part as the sending-out-for-others-to-read part.

But dammit, I don’t want to leave this earth not having tried.

I’ll resist the temptation to post the “carpe diem” clip from Dead Poets Society. But can you stomach a few quotes?

How do these strike you?

To always be intending to live a new life, but never find time to set about it – this is as if a man should put off eating and drinking from one day to another till he be starved and destroyed.  ~Walter Scott

Waiting for the fish to bite or waiting for wind to fly a kite.  Or waiting around for Friday night or waiting perhaps for their Uncle Jake or a pot to boil or a better break or a string of pearls or a pair of pants or a wig with curls or another chance.  Everyone is just waiting.  ~Dr. Seuss

As you grow older, you’ll find the only things you regret are the things you didn’t do.  ~Zachary Scott

For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin – real life.  But there was always some obstacle in the way.  Something to be got through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid.  Then life would begin.  At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life.  ~Fr. Alfred D’Souza

You will never find time for anything.  If you want time you must make it.  ~Charles Buxton

Many people die with their music still in them.  Why is this so?  Too often it is because they are always getting ready to live.  Before they know it, time runs out.  ~Oliver Wendell Holmes

Fear not that life shall come to an end, but rather fear that it shall never have a beginning.  ~John Henry Cardinal Newman

And this one for my friend Derek:

Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans. ~ John Lennon

At the end of my philosophical gnawing, all I’m left with is a question. A simple question that breaks the legs out from under all of my excuses. It’s a question I pose to you here in all seriousness.

What are you waiting for?

Starting Is Half the Battle

If you start today, and write one word every day, by the end of 2011 you’ll have written a flash fiction story of 354 words.

If you start today, and write ten words every day, by the end of 2011 you’ll have written a short story of 3,540 words.

If you start today, and write 100 words every day, by the end of 2011 you’ll have written a novella of 35,400 words.

If you start today, and write 1000 words every day, by the end of 2011, you’ll have written a 354,000 word epic.

If you start today.

But starting is half the battle.

You have so much to do. You’ve got your job and your meetings and your commute and your family and your shopping and your house work and your yard work.

Yes, you want to be a writer. It’s your dream. You have so many ideas for stories. You scribble them down in a notebook. Someday you’ll write your novel. But not today because today you have the job and the meetings and the commute and…

One word.

Ten words.

100 words.

Do you know how long it takes to write 100 words? Have you tried?

Maybe you’re unsure how to start. Or afraid of doing it wrong. Maybe you’re intimidated by the idea of it all.

I find it intimidating at times. I’m often unsure how to start. I’m always afraid of doing it wrong.

And that’s the case for almost every author I’ve ever talked to about writing. But here’s what I’m sure they’d say, and I what I say, too:

Start anyway.

You don’t have to have fancy paper or special pens or a lighted candle or absolute quiet or any of those other things resistance is telling you that you need.

All you need to do is write a word, and then the next, and the next.

One word a day, if that’s what it takes to get you started.

Just, whatever you do, get started.