What Could Happen?
I've heard any number of writers talk about keeping a notebook as they write their novels, something in which they record minutiae of all sorts. Because this thing I've been working on for so long has been taking so long, I decided to start a notebook for it, separate from the actual novel itself. My idea was that it be not just a place to keep character details but a brainstorming tool to pour ideas into, random ideas of all kinds specifically about this project. Right now, as I go through the pages, I see character profiles, a mindmap of character relationships, a list of questions about random plot possibilities, a list of questions about the world and its magical mechanics, and so on.
Lately, my issue has been the muddle in the middle. I have a vague idea of where this novel is going to end up, but getting there has been stymying me and I've been stalled-stalled-stalled. Tonight, in an effort to figure out where and how things might go, I opened the notebook to a clean page and, across the top, I wrote: What could happen? And I wrote a list. So far, it's a full single side of a page, but I have even more ideas and plan to continue this work in just a few minutes.
This has been part of the problem: I have a lot of ideas. But what I'm discovering as I jot down these ideas is that they're crystalizing more for me than they have while I've stewed over them mentally. Somehow, writing the ideas down is making me process them, making them more dynamic and more tangible. Some ideas suddenly seem less plausible than others. Some make more sense and fit more with where I want to go. One or two might provide twists that hadn't occurred to me before.
Clearly I need to get back to this exercise.
My point in stopping to write this LJ entry, though, was to record this experience and to share it, because while for some folks it may be old hat, there might be something here that might be useful to someone else. This is new for me, carrying this notebook, this brainstorming tool with me everywhere I go. And this exercise of asking, without limits or judgments or second-guessing, what might happen, is liberating. I'm writing down everything that occurs to me, even the most absurd, out-of-character possibilities.
Those ideas, especially the absurd ones, are helping me think about my characters from other perspectives. What might they do? If they did such things, such unexpected or bizarre things, why would they do them? What would their motivations be? What things would push them to those outer limits? How far would they--or wouldn't they--go? It's a very powerful thing. It makes me think about what they're truly passionate about, what or who they'd risk their lives for. It gets to the core of character in a visceral way. It's exciting.
Anyway, try it. If you're having trouble getting to where you need to go in your novel, give it a shot. Spill it all out, pages and pages if you have to. That's what I'll be doing tonight--continuing the exercise. It's really, really cool.
This is what it's supposed to feel like, when you're writing. This is what's supposed to happen. It's supposed to be fun.
Lately, my issue has been the muddle in the middle. I have a vague idea of where this novel is going to end up, but getting there has been stymying me and I've been stalled-stalled-stalled. Tonight, in an effort to figure out where and how things might go, I opened the notebook to a clean page and, across the top, I wrote: What could happen? And I wrote a list. So far, it's a full single side of a page, but I have even more ideas and plan to continue this work in just a few minutes.
This has been part of the problem: I have a lot of ideas. But what I'm discovering as I jot down these ideas is that they're crystalizing more for me than they have while I've stewed over them mentally. Somehow, writing the ideas down is making me process them, making them more dynamic and more tangible. Some ideas suddenly seem less plausible than others. Some make more sense and fit more with where I want to go. One or two might provide twists that hadn't occurred to me before.
Clearly I need to get back to this exercise.
My point in stopping to write this LJ entry, though, was to record this experience and to share it, because while for some folks it may be old hat, there might be something here that might be useful to someone else. This is new for me, carrying this notebook, this brainstorming tool with me everywhere I go. And this exercise of asking, without limits or judgments or second-guessing, what might happen, is liberating. I'm writing down everything that occurs to me, even the most absurd, out-of-character possibilities.
Those ideas, especially the absurd ones, are helping me think about my characters from other perspectives. What might they do? If they did such things, such unexpected or bizarre things, why would they do them? What would their motivations be? What things would push them to those outer limits? How far would they--or wouldn't they--go? It's a very powerful thing. It makes me think about what they're truly passionate about, what or who they'd risk their lives for. It gets to the core of character in a visceral way. It's exciting.
Anyway, try it. If you're having trouble getting to where you need to go in your novel, give it a shot. Spill it all out, pages and pages if you have to. That's what I'll be doing tonight--continuing the exercise. It's really, really cool.
This is what it's supposed to feel like, when you're writing. This is what's supposed to happen. It's supposed to be fun.