When writing is like alligator-wrestling
I've written 4 pieces of fanfiction in my life. The latest one, "Destination Unknown", was pure torture. I feel the need to vent about exactly what made this story so incredibly difficult for me, and the process I went through to get it done.
If any fellow LJ authors feel like reading such a thing, please let me know: Is this normal? Is it *whimpers* common?
When I began writing my Richie Ryan Journal story, I became upset about his death at MacLeod's hands. My subconcious went to work that night and handed me two images. One, from Archangel's Quickening scene, was a Richie's face red-lit and tormented. The other was of him standing serenly on a beach, next to a strange Immortal man. Each image was laden with a complex bouquet of emotions; negative for the first, positive for the second. Both images were very unreal, not in the sense of being unbelievable, but because they felt outside of reality.
I decided to write a story that would capture that feeling, and provide me with some closure about Richie's death. That shouldn't be too hard, right? *pause for hysterical laughter*
There are 3 reasons why I write.
a) It's fun.
b) I hope that other people might enjoy reading the stories I write.
c) The characters and plots move into my head and slowly take up more and more processing space until I need to move them out into the world from sheer self-defense.
"Unknown Destinations" had very little of a and b, but mucho c.
I started writing. I tried a variety of different perspectives: 1st, 2nd, and 3rd. I tried both limited and omniscient. Past and present tense. I wrote flashbacks of Richie's life. Nothing captured the feeling I was looking for.
I came up with an extensive backstory of Matthew Cooper. It started with his First Life as a Narragansett whaler. He was in love with the sea. He spent many lives as a fishermen or merchant seaman, served patriotic tours in the Navy, and met his death while on holiday from an oil rigging job. Then I realized that none of this had anything to do with the story I was trying to tell, and tossed it.
I attempted different styles: minimalist and surrealistic, realistic and kabuki. For anyone wondering, kabuki is a form of traditional Japanese drama. The characters strike stylized poses and declame to the audience. No, you can't read that version. I recognized it as a cry for help, and deleted it.
At this point, the thing was taking over my life. I couldn't stop picking at it. On the bus, at work, in bed when I should be asleep, while trying to watch TV. The thing just would not let go of me.
Finally, sick to death of the thing, I wrote an utterly conventional version and kicked it out of bed to my betas.
12 hours later, I recanted. Perhaps if I could make it into a series of freeze frame images, that would work? I asked my betas if they had any idea how they could do that.
In another 12 hours, before they even had a chance to respond, I had completely rewritten the story into a "freeze-frame" version similar to the now-published one, and sent it off to them again.
Yes, pity my poor betas. But they helped me improve it until it was fit for human consumption.
So, where am I at now? Still not completely satisfied. The thing doesn't match my vision, and I doubt it ever will. But at least I have succeeded in getting a publishable version of it together, and (mostly) gotten it out of my head.
I love and hate "Destination Unknown" in equal proportions, and call it "it" and "thing" far too much. Hopefully venting here will let my regain the rest of my usual inner tranquility.
To anyone who made it this far - thanks for listening.
If any fellow LJ authors feel like reading such a thing, please let me know: Is this normal? Is it *whimpers* common?
When I began writing my Richie Ryan Journal story, I became upset about his death at MacLeod's hands. My subconcious went to work that night and handed me two images. One, from Archangel's Quickening scene, was a Richie's face red-lit and tormented. The other was of him standing serenly on a beach, next to a strange Immortal man. Each image was laden with a complex bouquet of emotions; negative for the first, positive for the second. Both images were very unreal, not in the sense of being unbelievable, but because they felt outside of reality.
I decided to write a story that would capture that feeling, and provide me with some closure about Richie's death. That shouldn't be too hard, right? *pause for hysterical laughter*
There are 3 reasons why I write.
a) It's fun.
b) I hope that other people might enjoy reading the stories I write.
c) The characters and plots move into my head and slowly take up more and more processing space until I need to move them out into the world from sheer self-defense.
"Unknown Destinations" had very little of a and b, but mucho c.
I started writing. I tried a variety of different perspectives: 1st, 2nd, and 3rd. I tried both limited and omniscient. Past and present tense. I wrote flashbacks of Richie's life. Nothing captured the feeling I was looking for.
I came up with an extensive backstory of Matthew Cooper. It started with his First Life as a Narragansett whaler. He was in love with the sea. He spent many lives as a fishermen or merchant seaman, served patriotic tours in the Navy, and met his death while on holiday from an oil rigging job. Then I realized that none of this had anything to do with the story I was trying to tell, and tossed it.
I attempted different styles: minimalist and surrealistic, realistic and kabuki. For anyone wondering, kabuki is a form of traditional Japanese drama. The characters strike stylized poses and declame to the audience. No, you can't read that version. I recognized it as a cry for help, and deleted it.
At this point, the thing was taking over my life. I couldn't stop picking at it. On the bus, at work, in bed when I should be asleep, while trying to watch TV. The thing just would not let go of me.
Finally, sick to death of the thing, I wrote an utterly conventional version and kicked it out of bed to my betas.
12 hours later, I recanted. Perhaps if I could make it into a series of freeze frame images, that would work? I asked my betas if they had any idea how they could do that.
In another 12 hours, before they even had a chance to respond, I had completely rewritten the story into a "freeze-frame" version similar to the now-published one, and sent it off to them again.
Yes, pity my poor betas. But they helped me improve it until it was fit for human consumption.
So, where am I at now? Still not completely satisfied. The thing doesn't match my vision, and I doubt it ever will. But at least I have succeeded in getting a publishable version of it together, and (mostly) gotten it out of my head.
I love and hate "Destination Unknown" in equal proportions, and call it "it" and "thing" far too much. Hopefully venting here will let my regain the rest of my usual inner tranquility.
To anyone who made it this far - thanks for listening.