What Happens Next? (also DUST teaser)
There are times when I sit and stare at whatever it is I'm writing and wonder What Happens Next? And then I stare at it some more and wish it would hurry up and write itself, because I really want to know, dammit.
Whenever I'm stuck, that's the question that I ask myself: What Happens Next? WHN? is, possibly, the reason my stories get finished. After all, I'm not a machine. I can't just sit down and churn out a story with a complete plot and character arcs and twists and stuff. There's, you know, thinking involved. Also caffeine (I should put a "Sponsored by Coffee!" icon on all my stories). There's agonizing over whether this character would do or say this (they would) and whether or not Spike should be shirtless in this scene (he should) and if Buffy can, in fact, leap tall buildings in a single bound (she could, but it'd be hell on her kicky boots). So the agonizing happens and the writing grinds to a halt and then I'm stuck staring at the place I left off and wondering.
That's where WHN? comes in.
WHN? isn't an answer, though it contains them. It's a prompt. The single most important prompt in my writing arsenal, in fact. It has it's own little cushioned box with a lovely lacquered lid, and I lovingly open it every single day so the hinges don't even squeak.
When I pull out WHN? magic happens. Words get written. The story keeps going. Characters start talking and walking and leaping and sometimes take off their shirts and more often than not whatever they just did totally surprises even me. For me, that's part of the magic of WHN?--it makes me stop thinking about what the characters SHOULD do, if they lived in some perfect world in my head where everything went according to my (evil) master plan--which, admittedly mostly involves them getting naked and dipping themselves in chocolate and making suggestive eyebrow wiggles. Instead it makes me think outside of my little comfortable box, and the characters start doing things that I might never have thought of, but which are dictated by their own personalities and experiences.
It's also why, probably, my stories tend to be long. Because, while you can take two antagonistic characters with a subconscious attraction to each other and put them in a sticky situation and have them come out the other side as the most romantic couple in coupledom--I like to let things progress fairly naturally.
That's not to say that there isn't A Plot. There is. I usually outline my plots right at the beginning. But WHN? lets me explore the spaces between the plot points. It allows me to arrive at them naturally, and at the right pace for the story. Sometimes that means things take less time than I would have expected (honestly, the last chapter and Epilogue of "West of the Moon" were meant to be their own stand alone Part 4 and several chapters long--that didn't happen, obviously). Sometimes it takes them longer (DUST being an excellent example of something I thought would be short and has turned out ... not).
WHN? gets me past my writer's block. It keeps me writing every day, even if it's just a little bit. In my day job I'm pretty much asked to be creative CONSTANTLY, even in moments or days or weeks when I'm not feeling especially inspired. There are days my muses wander off, leaving me staring at a project dubiously and going "uh... guys? Little help here? Guys?" while they've vanished over the horizon chasing butterflies or pretty girls (my muses are male. Always. Yes, I'm a sexist bitch).
When I sit down at the computer and I'm staring at that little blinking, unmoving cursor, it's WHN? that makes it move. WHN? is always just on the other side of it, in the blank empty spaces that are waiting to be filled. WHN? lives just one sentence ahead, sometimes just one word. All you have to do, when you reach the end of it is ask "What Happens Next?" and then write it. Eventually, you have a story.
Of course, you still need that pesky Plot thing, and character arcs and CONFLICT (and CONFLICT deserves its own post, where I lament the loss of it in fan fiction)--but What Happens Next brings all of those together.
What happens when you don't know WHN? That can be a problem. At that point I usually toss in something random. Nothing moves a plot along like someone saying something they shouldn't, or making a mistake. If all else fails, however, give them something to deal with: a gunman coming out of nowhere, flocks of ninjas, or a bear. See what they do with it. You might just be surprised... but then you'll know What Happens Next.
Speaking of... Have some Nano updates (you'll notice I got a LOT done in the last couple of days), and another DUST teaser.
Words since Nov. 1st:
11843 / 50000 words. 24% done!
Total Words in story:
61495 / 100000 words. 61% done!
From DUST (my current WIP):
For the record, yes, Buffy is on her period. You can thank one of my betas, yakimama, for picking this excerpt for you guys.
Disgusted with himself, Spike tried to read some more. She wasn’t even his type--okay, so she was female, which was pretty much his type, but he generally liked his women tall and dark and mysterious. Not compact and muscular and bottle blonde. Besides that, she was bloody disgusting at the moment: scrubbed clean of her usual cosmetics, dressed in men's clothes, probably next to naked underneath... Not to mention all that weird human female stuff going on.
Oh, who the fuck was he kidding? She was bloody delicious like this. Vulnerable, sexy, and best of all, dripping like a coffee pot. She’d probably be repulsed by that thought, but hey, he was a vampire. Blood was sort of his thing. It made everything better.
“What are you staring at?” she asked, and he realized that he was watching her perky little tits dance under her top again.
Impulse said, tell her and shock her. Self preservation, however, won out with an eloquent, “Nothing.”
“You were not staring at nothing,” she said. “You were staring at me. Why?”
Was wondering how much weight you were gonna pack on scarfing chocolates. I was wondering what color your nips are when they’re all pointy like that. I was wondering if you’d let me lay between your thighs for the next three days and feast like a--
“You’ve got a bit of chocolate...” He gestured vaguely at her face, which was utterly devoid of chocolate of any sort. She swiped at her lips. “There, you got it.”
“Thanks--” Her eyes met his, then widened with horror.
“Don’t mention it,” he said, feeling more than a little horrified himself. “Ever. To Anyone.” Fuck. If this ever got out in the local demon community, he might as well stake himself. Making nice with the Slayer? He ought to be decorating the room with her entrails not... whatever the fuck it was they were doing.
Whenever I'm stuck, that's the question that I ask myself: What Happens Next? WHN? is, possibly, the reason my stories get finished. After all, I'm not a machine. I can't just sit down and churn out a story with a complete plot and character arcs and twists and stuff. There's, you know, thinking involved. Also caffeine (I should put a "Sponsored by Coffee!" icon on all my stories). There's agonizing over whether this character would do or say this (they would) and whether or not Spike should be shirtless in this scene (he should) and if Buffy can, in fact, leap tall buildings in a single bound (she could, but it'd be hell on her kicky boots). So the agonizing happens and the writing grinds to a halt and then I'm stuck staring at the place I left off and wondering.
That's where WHN? comes in.
WHN? isn't an answer, though it contains them. It's a prompt. The single most important prompt in my writing arsenal, in fact. It has it's own little cushioned box with a lovely lacquered lid, and I lovingly open it every single day so the hinges don't even squeak.
When I pull out WHN? magic happens. Words get written. The story keeps going. Characters start talking and walking and leaping and sometimes take off their shirts and more often than not whatever they just did totally surprises even me. For me, that's part of the magic of WHN?--it makes me stop thinking about what the characters SHOULD do, if they lived in some perfect world in my head where everything went according to my (evil) master plan--which, admittedly mostly involves them getting naked and dipping themselves in chocolate and making suggestive eyebrow wiggles. Instead it makes me think outside of my little comfortable box, and the characters start doing things that I might never have thought of, but which are dictated by their own personalities and experiences.
It's also why, probably, my stories tend to be long. Because, while you can take two antagonistic characters with a subconscious attraction to each other and put them in a sticky situation and have them come out the other side as the most romantic couple in coupledom--I like to let things progress fairly naturally.
That's not to say that there isn't A Plot. There is. I usually outline my plots right at the beginning. But WHN? lets me explore the spaces between the plot points. It allows me to arrive at them naturally, and at the right pace for the story. Sometimes that means things take less time than I would have expected (honestly, the last chapter and Epilogue of "West of the Moon" were meant to be their own stand alone Part 4 and several chapters long--that didn't happen, obviously). Sometimes it takes them longer (DUST being an excellent example of something I thought would be short and has turned out ... not).
WHN? gets me past my writer's block. It keeps me writing every day, even if it's just a little bit. In my day job I'm pretty much asked to be creative CONSTANTLY, even in moments or days or weeks when I'm not feeling especially inspired. There are days my muses wander off, leaving me staring at a project dubiously and going "uh... guys? Little help here? Guys?" while they've vanished over the horizon chasing butterflies or pretty girls (my muses are male. Always. Yes, I'm a sexist bitch).
When I sit down at the computer and I'm staring at that little blinking, unmoving cursor, it's WHN? that makes it move. WHN? is always just on the other side of it, in the blank empty spaces that are waiting to be filled. WHN? lives just one sentence ahead, sometimes just one word. All you have to do, when you reach the end of it is ask "What Happens Next?" and then write it. Eventually, you have a story.
Of course, you still need that pesky Plot thing, and character arcs and CONFLICT (and CONFLICT deserves its own post, where I lament the loss of it in fan fiction)--but What Happens Next brings all of those together.
What happens when you don't know WHN? That can be a problem. At that point I usually toss in something random. Nothing moves a plot along like someone saying something they shouldn't, or making a mistake. If all else fails, however, give them something to deal with: a gunman coming out of nowhere, flocks of ninjas, or a bear. See what they do with it. You might just be surprised... but then you'll know What Happens Next.
Speaking of... Have some Nano updates (you'll notice I got a LOT done in the last couple of days), and another DUST teaser.
Words since Nov. 1st:
11843 / 50000 words. 24% done!
Total Words in story:
61495 / 100000 words. 61% done!
From DUST (my current WIP):
For the record, yes, Buffy is on her period. You can thank one of my betas, yakimama, for picking this excerpt for you guys.
Disgusted with himself, Spike tried to read some more. She wasn’t even his type--okay, so she was female, which was pretty much his type, but he generally liked his women tall and dark and mysterious. Not compact and muscular and bottle blonde. Besides that, she was bloody disgusting at the moment: scrubbed clean of her usual cosmetics, dressed in men's clothes, probably next to naked underneath... Not to mention all that weird human female stuff going on.
Oh, who the fuck was he kidding? She was bloody delicious like this. Vulnerable, sexy, and best of all, dripping like a coffee pot. She’d probably be repulsed by that thought, but hey, he was a vampire. Blood was sort of his thing. It made everything better.
“What are you staring at?” she asked, and he realized that he was watching her perky little tits dance under her top again.
Impulse said, tell her and shock her. Self preservation, however, won out with an eloquent, “Nothing.”
“You were not staring at nothing,” she said. “You were staring at me. Why?”
Was wondering how much weight you were gonna pack on scarfing chocolates. I was wondering what color your nips are when they’re all pointy like that. I was wondering if you’d let me lay between your thighs for the next three days and feast like a--
“You’ve got a bit of chocolate...” He gestured vaguely at her face, which was utterly devoid of chocolate of any sort. She swiped at her lips. “There, you got it.”
“Thanks--” Her eyes met his, then widened with horror.
“Don’t mention it,” he said, feeling more than a little horrified himself. “Ever. To Anyone.” Fuck. If this ever got out in the local demon community, he might as well stake himself. Making nice with the Slayer? He ought to be decorating the room with her entrails not... whatever the fuck it was they were doing.