How I Write, Or: Outlines Are For People Who Know What's Going On.
I've been thinking about this for a while, now -- I'll forget about it, but then Mari will say something that'll remind me and I'll think about it again. This is looooong (lots of parenthetical asides and examples) and rambling (I kept thinking of things I wanted to say) so I'm putting nearly all of it behind a cut.
- - - -
Ever since I decided that I wanted to be a Real Writer (which I am, now, I have a rejection slip!), I've fretted about how I write. Not about the grammar or vocabulary side of things; I know my style can be a little odd (or dull, depending on how tired I am), but I've never really worried about that.
No, I worry about the fact that I love starting in media res, and while I know what kind of an ending my stories must have, I often have a hard time getting there. I'm smashing at middles, and okay at beginnings; it's the tying them together and writing something other than "...And then they all lived happily ever after, except that one annoying guy, who had to sit in a mud puddle for the rest of his life while everyone else had copious amounts of fabulous sex and were repulsively sweet and sappy toward one another." for an ending that I have problems with.
I've tried a lot of things: outlines, storyboards, the snowflake method, interviewing my characters re: their motivations, etc. The only thing that ever remotely worked for me was the last one, because I discovered that when faced with the usual outlining questions my answer was always the same: I don't know. And I don't! At least not before it happens, anyhow.
For Example:
I went back and re-read a bunch of my old Konamasi stuff, in specific the stuff where Richard De Garlea broke up with Nick Travis and decided that his world was now as bleak as your average teen Goth's. His mother (bless her) rolled her eyes and sent him on vacation, where he annoyed his downstairs neighbors (Conrad Whose Last Name I Suddenly Can't Remember and Maus Voci* by playing NIN/Stabbing Westward at stupidly high volume... Despite the fact that Rick really isn't interested in doing anything except being MISERABLE!, somehow Conrad and Maus manage to change his mind about that. Fast forward through a bunch of stuff, and the last thing I wrote left Rick in Conrad's bedroom, getting ready to sleep with him for the first time.
Instead of starting with the sex, I decided it'd be more interesting to start with Maus' reaction to Rick and Conrad sleeping together. I knew one thing about his reaction, before I started writing, and that's that it wasn't going to be a happy one. The thing was... I didn't know anything ELSE about it, though.
It turned out to be kind of childish, actually, because Maus is still a teenager (his age changes on a regular basis; he's anywhere from 16 to 18, not that I've been able to pin it down) -- and because he'd never really had to deal with anything quite like the disappointment/heartbreak of finding out that the person he had a crush on didn't (quite) feel the same way. (Maus' homelife before Conrad was quite sheltered, yes.) Then, after he got over his initial snit, he decided to try something else: kissing Conrad.
My biggest secret for writing things is just to write the interesting parts. Conrad and Rick having sex? Eh, while I've not seen it before, it's not nearly as interesting as Maus discovering that Conrad wants to sleep with Rick. Maus having a fit and then deciding that maybe Conrad just needs a demonstration of how Maus feels/what Maus wants? Interesting! Rick sitting at home thinking about Conrad? Blah. Conrad trying to figure out just what the hell he wants from life? Interesting! Rick doing whatever it is he does? Blah.
So I went with the interesting stuff. I had a feeling that Maus was going to try kissing Conrad, but it wasn't until he actually did it that I knew. And then that opened up an entire pantry of cans of worms, which was even more interesting. Sometimes I see myself less as a writer and more of a conduit -- I'm just here to give these people a way to exist; when I feel like that as I'm actually writing I'm delighted. I'm just the transcriptionist for them and the less they notice me and get on with their lives the better.
If I'm writing and something feels forced, I'll take it out (popping it into a file called 'Excised From [whatever]', Just In Case) and try again. If it's forced, it means that I'm either imposing too much of my will on the scene or I'm not listening to the characters properly, and either way it makes for crappy writing. For Example, here's a couple of things that I pulled out of Carrot And Ilsther for whatever reason:
It seemed a little odd to call it a club -- the building appeared to be a converted barn or something. It had all the amenities of a club, though, from the doorman/bouncer and the coat-check to the elaborate soundsystem, well-stocked bar, and long line outside the ladies' room. Multicolored lights swept over the hardwood dancefloor, changing bright plumage into otherworldly colors;
"You wanna do anything in particular this weekend?"
"Um, well... I mean..."
"Besides that."
"Would you like to go to Redcliffs? It's a bit of a jaunt but it's an amazing place."
"Redcliffs? I don't think I've ever heard of it. What's it like?"
"It's, actually, it's only one cliff. But it's gigantic, and it's made of this red stone. You camp in this kind of pocket on the western side, and from about the middle of the afternoon if the weather's been good 'til the sun starts to go down you can just soar for hours on these incredible thermals. It's... Mum and dad took me there, once, before the twins were born and I never wanted to leave. I don't remember anything else about the trip there or back, except that I made an unholy scene and my father actually spanked me in front of other people."
"That sounds interesting. Okay, sure, let's go up there, then.
The first bit I took out because it was edging toward "there was a brown wooden table in the room. It was made of wood. It was brown. It was a table." territory. (Plus it wasn't interesting, since I'd already written the scene that involved that particular setting. I didn't feel like I needed to describe it, since the characters had already moved on... Never mind the fact that, y'know, OTHER PEOPLE who don't live in my head might like to know what it looked like.)
The second one I took out because it wasn't right. Ilsther didn't sound like himself, and I really didn't like that. I liked the idea - Ilsther wants to take Carrot to a place that he loves and is significant in his family history - because it's one of those things that everyone does when they fall in love with someone they're inclined to marry (plus I love a Happy! Ilsther), but the execution was not so great. Fortunately, my second try was much better:
"Hey, ladybird," Ilsther said.
"Ladybird?"
"I thought of it this morning! It sounds nice, and isn't too weird... Is it?"
Carrot thought about it. "No, it's fine. I like it, actually." She smiled, wondering if it was strange to feel so delighted by a pet name. Of course, she hadn't had many, in her life, so...
"I'm glad. I actually called you to see if you had anything in mind for the weekend," he said.
"This weekend? No... I hadn't actually gotten around to thinking about it."
"Good! I, um, wanted to take you to Redcliffs this weekend. It's a bit of a trip, so we'll need to leave at about lunch time on Friday."
"Redcliffs? Where's that?"
"It's about fifty miles to the northeast. There's a little town called Ha'athsel about five miles from it, and that's where everyone going to Redcliffs stays."
"Huh. What's up there, besides the town?"
"Um, it's a surprise. I think you'll like it; it's not a bad thing..."
"Okay," Carrot said. "Since it's you, I will wait and be surprised."
"Good. I'm going to go talk to my parents and make the arrangements after that. Good! We're going to Redcliffs, we're going to Redcliffs," Ilsther sang.
Carrot laughed. "Well, I know one thing about it already," she said.
"What's that?"
"You really like the place."
"I do! My family goes at least once a year, ever since the twins were old enough. We missed a few years right before and after they were born, but now... And this time it's just me and you, though. Although... I wouldn't mind if you came along, if my parents said it was okay. If you like it, and if you want to."
"Sounds like fun," she said, suppressing a sigh. "You don't think they'd object, do you?"
"It is." Ilsther nodded. "Probably not. I'm pretty sure mum's over her little snit... She talked to you for a while yesterday, didn't she?"
"Yeah, she did, for about fifteen minutes. She didn't seem to be unhappy with me, but we were only discussing the price of food."
"If mum was unhappy with you, you would know. She did give you a second piece of pie and you didn't even ask for it."
Carrot laughed again. "If she was mad at me, I wouldn't get seconds?"
"Not unless she threw it at you, no," Ilsther said with a grin.
It's still a little stiff at the beginning, I think, but it's not as bad as the first time around. Plus it gave me a chance to get Ilsther's pet name for Carrot in there, which is good. (Looking at it again, while it's sitting right there, allowed me to see that I let my own speech-patterns slip into Ilsther's mouth, which isn't good. I fixed it above, but that's something I'm going to have to keep an eye out for when I reread the original file.)
So far, my methods have served me well. I get a lot more writing done by skipping things that aren't interesting, and the writing I do is doubly interesting because I'm doing my best to let the characters do and say what they want to. It drives me a little crazy, sometimes, because I occasionally have ideas about what certain characters will or will not be doing, ever, in a million years, if I have anything to say about it! and they ignore me and do their own thing. Like Conrad and Maus, to return to my earlier example.
When I decided that Conrad and Maus should meet, I had already decided that they were only going to be Just Friends and that was it, full stop. A nice little Platonic pair, the two of them, while Conrad and Rick could fuck like rabbits for all I cared... And then all of a sudden ten (real-time) years went by and Maus had apparently simply been biding his time, because when I went back to see What Happens Next, he has a head full of Ideas that I have no say in. And that's how he ends up sitting on Conrad and saying that he wants to be taken advantage of. Me? I'm just the transcriptionist, what does he care about me? Heh.
Also, apropos of nothing, I found out that Maus has this neat set of little laminated cards that he uses when they go out to eat. They say things on them like 'Yes, please.' and 'No, thank you.' and 'When you have a moment, could I please have some more water? Thank you.' Conrad or Rick still order for him, usually, though places that offer picture menus do allow him to order for himself. So if he had to survive on his own, he could, at least when it comes to restaurants. *Blinkblink* I wonder if Conrad set something up with the phone company so that when anyone uses his line to make a call to emergency services, a little note pops up that one of the people at that number cannot speak? Probably. If he didn't think about it, Rick probably would have mentioned it. (I really like the three of them as a unit, they're fascinating.)
That's really what all of my writing secrets boil down to: skipping the boring junk and listening to the characters, because they're the ones that know what's going on. I don't have anything pithy or deep to say about how I write dialogue, except to say that it's listening to the characters again. Finch sounds different than Ilsther; Carrot's voice is much different than Maus'. (And now that I think about it, she and Mistress Miaro are the only two female characters who have leading** roles in anything I've written in the last five years. Wow. That's kind of...sad, in a way.)
Of course, this method does have its drawbacks: you can't say 'well, there's that scene done, just [number] more until the denoument!' or tell someone that you've only got [number] more scenes until the big fight. And then there's the lack of transitions -- not that transitions are absolutely required or else, there are plenty of books, movies, and shows where the A-plot ends with a fade-to-black and when the next scene fades in, it's the B-plot and we're meeting new characters without any explanation as to how (or even IF) they're related to the A-plot.
Last but not least, for me anyhow, is the fact that it would be nice if the scenes hung together on some sort of overall framework, like... A plot. And while will-they-or-won't-they is great for a scene (or scenes), it's not that compelling when that's all you've got as a plot. Writing in this slapdash, scattershot way is really not good for that kind of thing, particularly if you're one of those people who likes wheels-within-wheels plots. And then there's endings!
I'm a happy-endings junkie; if the characters don't get to (figuratively) sigh happily and gaze into one anothers' eyes while treacle-y music swells in the background and they mutter 'I love you'/'I love you' at one another then it's not my idea of a good time. I liked the way I ended The Kelvath/Avrath Thing, with Kelvath looking over his shoulder for one last look at Avrath as he left, but damn if it was dissatisfying to leave it there. So I wrote an epilogue, where they didn't get down on one knee and pledge their hearts to one another, but there was kissing and happiness and that made me feel better.
Even my not-so-nice characters get happy endings, usually -- Khobelithalichen Myrsaalth, for instance, isn't the nicest guy in the world and he ended up with almost everything he wanted (in order: Myers, The Murkowski Spire, the warm fuzzy feeling of having pulled off The Heist Of The Millenium). There was one thing he didn't get, but that's because the people involved were already dead, alas. Finch isn't terribly nice, either, but he's got Herbert, and they're relatively happy together, so.
...And that's really all I have to say about that, at the moment. I'm going to go do something else, possibly involving a nap. Maybe more writing -- I have some things I'm working on for National Masturbation Month that I want to get done before the month is over, so.
* Maus Voci was Maus Biederlack. That was his name when he first showed up in Konamasi/Tuunvat; there have been a few refinements made to his backstory and so he became a Voci instead of a Biederlack. Besides that it helps to differentiate him from Maus Biederlack of Shadow Lawn -- they look the same, but have very very different motivations/difficulties in their lives. Plus Shadow Lawn Maus can speak, he just doesn't do it very often.
** This is an unintentional pun, honest. *Giggle* *ahem*
- - - -
Ever since I decided that I wanted to be a Real Writer (which I am, now, I have a rejection slip!), I've fretted about how I write. Not about the grammar or vocabulary side of things; I know my style can be a little odd (or dull, depending on how tired I am), but I've never really worried about that.
No, I worry about the fact that I love starting in media res, and while I know what kind of an ending my stories must have, I often have a hard time getting there. I'm smashing at middles, and okay at beginnings; it's the tying them together and writing something other than "...And then they all lived happily ever after, except that one annoying guy, who had to sit in a mud puddle for the rest of his life while everyone else had copious amounts of fabulous sex and were repulsively sweet and sappy toward one another." for an ending that I have problems with.
I've tried a lot of things: outlines, storyboards, the snowflake method, interviewing my characters re: their motivations, etc. The only thing that ever remotely worked for me was the last one, because I discovered that when faced with the usual outlining questions my answer was always the same: I don't know. And I don't! At least not before it happens, anyhow.
For Example:
I went back and re-read a bunch of my old Konamasi stuff, in specific the stuff where Richard De Garlea broke up with Nick Travis and decided that his world was now as bleak as your average teen Goth's. His mother (bless her) rolled her eyes and sent him on vacation, where he annoyed his downstairs neighbors (Conrad Whose Last Name I Suddenly Can't Remember and Maus Voci* by playing NIN/Stabbing Westward at stupidly high volume... Despite the fact that Rick really isn't interested in doing anything except being MISERABLE!, somehow Conrad and Maus manage to change his mind about that. Fast forward through a bunch of stuff, and the last thing I wrote left Rick in Conrad's bedroom, getting ready to sleep with him for the first time.
Instead of starting with the sex, I decided it'd be more interesting to start with Maus' reaction to Rick and Conrad sleeping together. I knew one thing about his reaction, before I started writing, and that's that it wasn't going to be a happy one. The thing was... I didn't know anything ELSE about it, though.
It turned out to be kind of childish, actually, because Maus is still a teenager (his age changes on a regular basis; he's anywhere from 16 to 18, not that I've been able to pin it down) -- and because he'd never really had to deal with anything quite like the disappointment/heartbreak of finding out that the person he had a crush on didn't (quite) feel the same way. (Maus' homelife before Conrad was quite sheltered, yes.) Then, after he got over his initial snit, he decided to try something else: kissing Conrad.
My biggest secret for writing things is just to write the interesting parts. Conrad and Rick having sex? Eh, while I've not seen it before, it's not nearly as interesting as Maus discovering that Conrad wants to sleep with Rick. Maus having a fit and then deciding that maybe Conrad just needs a demonstration of how Maus feels/what Maus wants? Interesting! Rick sitting at home thinking about Conrad? Blah. Conrad trying to figure out just what the hell he wants from life? Interesting! Rick doing whatever it is he does? Blah.
So I went with the interesting stuff. I had a feeling that Maus was going to try kissing Conrad, but it wasn't until he actually did it that I knew. And then that opened up an entire pantry of cans of worms, which was even more interesting. Sometimes I see myself less as a writer and more of a conduit -- I'm just here to give these people a way to exist; when I feel like that as I'm actually writing I'm delighted. I'm just the transcriptionist for them and the less they notice me and get on with their lives the better.
If I'm writing and something feels forced, I'll take it out (popping it into a file called 'Excised From [whatever]', Just In Case) and try again. If it's forced, it means that I'm either imposing too much of my will on the scene or I'm not listening to the characters properly, and either way it makes for crappy writing. For Example, here's a couple of things that I pulled out of Carrot And Ilsther for whatever reason:
It seemed a little odd to call it a club -- the building appeared to be a converted barn or something. It had all the amenities of a club, though, from the doorman/bouncer and the coat-check to the elaborate soundsystem, well-stocked bar, and long line outside the ladies' room. Multicolored lights swept over the hardwood dancefloor, changing bright plumage into otherworldly colors;
"You wanna do anything in particular this weekend?"
"Um, well... I mean..."
"Besides that."
"Would you like to go to Redcliffs? It's a bit of a jaunt but it's an amazing place."
"Redcliffs? I don't think I've ever heard of it. What's it like?"
"It's, actually, it's only one cliff. But it's gigantic, and it's made of this red stone. You camp in this kind of pocket on the western side, and from about the middle of the afternoon if the weather's been good 'til the sun starts to go down you can just soar for hours on these incredible thermals. It's... Mum and dad took me there, once, before the twins were born and I never wanted to leave. I don't remember anything else about the trip there or back, except that I made an unholy scene and my father actually spanked me in front of other people."
"That sounds interesting. Okay, sure, let's go up there, then.
The first bit I took out because it was edging toward "there was a brown wooden table in the room. It was made of wood. It was brown. It was a table." territory. (Plus it wasn't interesting, since I'd already written the scene that involved that particular setting. I didn't feel like I needed to describe it, since the characters had already moved on... Never mind the fact that, y'know, OTHER PEOPLE who don't live in my head might like to know what it looked like.)
The second one I took out because it wasn't right. Ilsther didn't sound like himself, and I really didn't like that. I liked the idea - Ilsther wants to take Carrot to a place that he loves and is significant in his family history - because it's one of those things that everyone does when they fall in love with someone they're inclined to marry (plus I love a Happy! Ilsther), but the execution was not so great. Fortunately, my second try was much better:
"Hey, ladybird," Ilsther said.
"Ladybird?"
"I thought of it this morning! It sounds nice, and isn't too weird... Is it?"
Carrot thought about it. "No, it's fine. I like it, actually." She smiled, wondering if it was strange to feel so delighted by a pet name. Of course, she hadn't had many, in her life, so...
"I'm glad. I actually called you to see if you had anything in mind for the weekend," he said.
"This weekend? No... I hadn't actually gotten around to thinking about it."
"Good! I, um, wanted to take you to Redcliffs this weekend. It's a bit of a trip, so we'll need to leave at about lunch time on Friday."
"Redcliffs? Where's that?"
"It's about fifty miles to the northeast. There's a little town called Ha'athsel about five miles from it, and that's where everyone going to Redcliffs stays."
"Huh. What's up there, besides the town?"
"Um, it's a surprise. I think you'll like it; it's not a bad thing..."
"Okay," Carrot said. "Since it's you, I will wait and be surprised."
"Good. I'm going to go talk to my parents and make the arrangements after that. Good! We're going to Redcliffs, we're going to Redcliffs," Ilsther sang.
Carrot laughed. "Well, I know one thing about it already," she said.
"What's that?"
"You really like the place."
"I do! My family goes at least once a year, ever since the twins were old enough. We missed a few years right before and after they were born, but now... And this time it's just me and you, though. Although... I wouldn't mind if you came along, if my parents said it was okay. If you like it, and if you want to."
"Sounds like fun," she said, suppressing a sigh. "You don't think they'd object, do you?"
"It is." Ilsther nodded. "Probably not. I'm pretty sure mum's over her little snit... She talked to you for a while yesterday, didn't she?"
"Yeah, she did, for about fifteen minutes. She didn't seem to be unhappy with me, but we were only discussing the price of food."
"If mum was unhappy with you, you would know. She did give you a second piece of pie and you didn't even ask for it."
Carrot laughed again. "If she was mad at me, I wouldn't get seconds?"
"Not unless she threw it at you, no," Ilsther said with a grin.
It's still a little stiff at the beginning, I think, but it's not as bad as the first time around. Plus it gave me a chance to get Ilsther's pet name for Carrot in there, which is good. (Looking at it again, while it's sitting right there, allowed me to see that I let my own speech-patterns slip into Ilsther's mouth, which isn't good. I fixed it above, but that's something I'm going to have to keep an eye out for when I reread the original file.)
So far, my methods have served me well. I get a lot more writing done by skipping things that aren't interesting, and the writing I do is doubly interesting because I'm doing my best to let the characters do and say what they want to. It drives me a little crazy, sometimes, because I occasionally have ideas about what certain characters will or will not be doing, ever, in a million years, if I have anything to say about it! and they ignore me and do their own thing. Like Conrad and Maus, to return to my earlier example.
When I decided that Conrad and Maus should meet, I had already decided that they were only going to be Just Friends and that was it, full stop. A nice little Platonic pair, the two of them, while Conrad and Rick could fuck like rabbits for all I cared... And then all of a sudden ten (real-time) years went by and Maus had apparently simply been biding his time, because when I went back to see What Happens Next, he has a head full of Ideas that I have no say in. And that's how he ends up sitting on Conrad and saying that he wants to be taken advantage of. Me? I'm just the transcriptionist, what does he care about me? Heh.
Also, apropos of nothing, I found out that Maus has this neat set of little laminated cards that he uses when they go out to eat. They say things on them like 'Yes, please.' and 'No, thank you.' and 'When you have a moment, could I please have some more water? Thank you.' Conrad or Rick still order for him, usually, though places that offer picture menus do allow him to order for himself. So if he had to survive on his own, he could, at least when it comes to restaurants. *Blinkblink* I wonder if Conrad set something up with the phone company so that when anyone uses his line to make a call to emergency services, a little note pops up that one of the people at that number cannot speak? Probably. If he didn't think about it, Rick probably would have mentioned it. (I really like the three of them as a unit, they're fascinating.)
That's really what all of my writing secrets boil down to: skipping the boring junk and listening to the characters, because they're the ones that know what's going on. I don't have anything pithy or deep to say about how I write dialogue, except to say that it's listening to the characters again. Finch sounds different than Ilsther; Carrot's voice is much different than Maus'. (And now that I think about it, she and Mistress Miaro are the only two female characters who have leading** roles in anything I've written in the last five years. Wow. That's kind of...sad, in a way.)
Of course, this method does have its drawbacks: you can't say 'well, there's that scene done, just [number] more until the denoument!' or tell someone that you've only got [number] more scenes until the big fight. And then there's the lack of transitions -- not that transitions are absolutely required or else, there are plenty of books, movies, and shows where the A-plot ends with a fade-to-black and when the next scene fades in, it's the B-plot and we're meeting new characters without any explanation as to how (or even IF) they're related to the A-plot.
Last but not least, for me anyhow, is the fact that it would be nice if the scenes hung together on some sort of overall framework, like... A plot. And while will-they-or-won't-they is great for a scene (or scenes), it's not that compelling when that's all you've got as a plot. Writing in this slapdash, scattershot way is really not good for that kind of thing, particularly if you're one of those people who likes wheels-within-wheels plots. And then there's endings!
I'm a happy-endings junkie; if the characters don't get to (figuratively) sigh happily and gaze into one anothers' eyes while treacle-y music swells in the background and they mutter 'I love you'/'I love you' at one another then it's not my idea of a good time. I liked the way I ended The Kelvath/Avrath Thing, with Kelvath looking over his shoulder for one last look at Avrath as he left, but damn if it was dissatisfying to leave it there. So I wrote an epilogue, where they didn't get down on one knee and pledge their hearts to one another, but there was kissing and happiness and that made me feel better.
Even my not-so-nice characters get happy endings, usually -- Khobelithalichen Myrsaalth, for instance, isn't the nicest guy in the world and he ended up with almost everything he wanted (in order: Myers, The Murkowski Spire, the warm fuzzy feeling of having pulled off The Heist Of The Millenium). There was one thing he didn't get, but that's because the people involved were already dead, alas. Finch isn't terribly nice, either, but he's got Herbert, and they're relatively happy together, so.
...And that's really all I have to say about that, at the moment. I'm going to go do something else, possibly involving a nap. Maybe more writing -- I have some things I'm working on for National Masturbation Month that I want to get done before the month is over, so.
* Maus Voci was Maus Biederlack. That was his name when he first showed up in Konamasi/Tuunvat; there have been a few refinements made to his backstory and so he became a Voci instead of a Biederlack. Besides that it helps to differentiate him from Maus Biederlack of Shadow Lawn -- they look the same, but have very very different motivations/difficulties in their lives. Plus Shadow Lawn Maus can speak, he just doesn't do it very often.
** This is an unintentional pun, honest. *Giggle* *ahem*