Sequels, the lament

I love sequels. I love getting to take those characters out on another hair-brained adventure. It's the nature of us as humans to crave very strongly the "Same but Different" feel that a really good sequel is supposed to give you. I love sequels.

Right up until the moment I'm the one writing it.

With sequels, part of the problem is that we've been training to write the first book in a series, not the last book or the middle book. One thing we have going for us is that there are some really amazing sequels out there:

The Empire Strikes Back

and, umm, you know, that other sequel...

Okay, I'm gonna level with you, there are very few sequels that make me happy that I'm dealing with a sequel. There's something about sequels that make me tremble in fear. Largely, the biggest fear is that people lose their ability to tell stories. For instance, the reboot of StarTrek: the absolute pinnacle of the movie (for tension purposes) happens 15 minutes before the end, and then Spock goes and punches out Khan. *sigh* And this is a common problem in sequels. The actual beats are misinterpreted by the very people in charge of making the sequel. And I live in fear that I'm also making those mistakes.

Of course, the real problem with writing a sequel is This Song!


(That's what we do in Hollywood)




(And everybody knows that the sequel isn't quite as good...)

D is for Development

This one isn't so much of a forbidden topic as it is about etiquette.

My head is detached from my body and floating in the ether!

What I should be doing

As a writer, there are things that people love to tell us to do. I think this partly stems from one of two ideas: writing is easy, and writers are robots, methodically turning out words in perfect order (ha! I just had to wipe away a tear that made me laugh so hard). I’m only seeing this side of it so much because my family can’t quite pick up on the idea that I finished a novel and it wasn’t published the next day (or week or year), and why do I need to start writing another one. While I do devote many hours to writing, often missing sleep, or skipping tv shows or even time in the hot tub, I am not a machine.

In fact, I’m pretty human with all the silly problems that come with being human. Yes, I’d love to be able to work at a 6K a day pace, or revise faster than I draft, or—for the sweet love of chocolate—give a polish read that is faster than 15 pages a day (I shake my fists at thee, oh great slower of my productivity).

So what I should be doing? I should be writing. It’s what we should all be doing.

What have I been doing? Well, I’ve been writing. I’ve also been obsessively checking twitter and query tracker and watching some of my favorite tv shows (how did I go so long without knowing about Idol!!!!). I’m dancing. I’m practicing dancing. I’m drooling over shoes for dancing. And I’m going to tumblr. Then, after being well marinated in procrastination, I write. Sometimes the writing goes well, sometimes it’s crap. Sometimes I land 6K in a day, and sometimes I’m pleased with six words (okay, reality check: I’m never, EVER, pleased with six words. I find that sort of pace torturously slow, and I have no patience for it. Those writers who do and can? Saints, pure and simple, and I’m not a saint).

What are your thoughts? Do you procrastinate much? Do you obsessively follow something that if you could give it up, you’d suddenly have a bazillion more hours in the day to do everything else (you know, like fold laundry and write books?).

First drafts, you know what people say about them

Things aren't going as fast as I'd hoped with my current WIP. Ah yes, so this is where most of you say “Eat your words! It takes three months to finish your first drafts, I. Think. Not.”

Well, who knows, but for those of you keeping track, I am just past the half way mark for the time, and just under the halfway mark for the actual novel. This would seem to be a recipe for disaster, but writing is a funny business, and I suspect that I’ll catch my 18^th wind here any day now. Why do I sound so confident? Because I’ve been here before.

So that makes it easy, right?

Umm, no. Not at all. In fact, last week, I’d have told you that there was no way on God’s green Earth that I would finish this book this millennium let alone the next six to eight weeks. So what changed?

Are you ready for this? Whenever I write a rough draft there is this thing that happens: I want the novel to be awesome in the first draft. No really, I feel like the more I write, the more incredible my first draft should be. I feel like I've gotten better, and at some point in my life my first drafts will be ready for prime time. As in, I'll just slap them together and throw them back out into the world, because I'll be a great writer, so my first drafts will also be awesome. 

I’ll warn you now: this way lies madness.

Let me be frank: My first draft sucks. All first drafts suck. But it usually takes me about 35K words before I can go through the week of moaning before I suck it up and start to move on. This time it took a little longer (two weeks for those of you keeping count), but the end result is the same: I give myself permission to have a crummy, sucky, I’d-rather-lick-the-bottom-of-my-shoes-after-running-around-the-duck-pond first draft. That is to say, I follow Maureen Johnsons’ Permission to suck video. If you haven’t seen it, go HERE and watch it now. First drafts are terrible. As in they are so awful that there is nothing worse.

The hard part about this, is that we are writers and we want our writing to be awesome. When it isn’t we start to think that the reason is because we suck. Nope! That’s not the case. Every first draft is an opportunity to stink up the literary canals with hideousness. As a writer, your job isn’t just to write a first draft, it’s to turn the first draft into awesomeness. That means editing and revision. In the mean time, write something. It won’t be pretty, but a crap draft is a billion times better than no draft.

Say it with me people: First Drafts Suck.

And of course, the only way to write the stupid thing is to give myself permission for it to suck. Recognize that it’s going to be so bad I’ll probably have to rewrite the whole thing (and boy-howdy, this one is going to need more spit shine than all the shoes in the Navy!). Which is to say, it ain’t easy, so cut yourself some slack and write that hideous first draft.**

**I think it’s important to note that not everyone has the same process, and pretty much mine is to rewrite the whole effing book, so if that doesn’t work for you, find something else. This, however, is how I write. As in, the only books that have “worked” for me were written like this.

Oh look! SHINY!

I know I’ve talked about how I consider myself lucky that I have more ideas than I’m ever going to be able to write. I’ve also mentioned that I feel like the way I get my ideas is entirely unprofessional, like I should be able to totally train up that whole idea generating part of my brain.

Nope. 

Not a chance. 

See, when a shiny new idea strikes, it just plows me over. There I am driving down the road, and BAM! Shiny New Idea, one fully formed novel downloaded into my brain from the Zeitgeist. Seriously, I stopped to write the query letter synopsis for it. 

It really was that fast. One minute no idea. Next second, a fully formed novel complete with protag, antag, sidekicks, and minor villains. The WHOLE THING! Like seriously, how can I even think a whole novel in a second? It’s completely impossible. 

And yet, I’m now penciling in appointments with Alicia Rodriguez (my MC, who comes complete with a full background story including exs, college and an overbearing grandmother who just wants her to marry a nice Latino boy). 

Did I mention I’m currently in the process of writing about pirates! I don’t have time for a news reporter with a black belt in Judo! 

*sigh*

And then, my new MC has the gall to suggest she get upped in the queue. Umm, no, sweetie, I’m finishing with the pirates. Then you. I promise you’ll get your turn. 

So yeah, pluses: I never have to worry about where next idea comes from.

Draw backs: I might need a stick to beat my Shiny New Ideas into line.

How about you? Do you nurse your ideas along, or do the stalk you down dark alleys for inappropriate times (like just before job interviews)?

On First Drafts

So, many of you know that I bowed out of A to Z because last year I commented 50,000 words worth. This year, I said "Hey wait, that's a novel," so I decided to write a novel instead. But I'm in that place where I'm having a hard time switching from polishing to drafting. I've never had that problem. I'm a big fan of the fast first draft. First drafts need to exist. They need to explore characters and plot so that by the end I as a writer know both.

I'm a super steady drafter. I take 12 weeks to write a novel. Every. Single. Time. There are exactly two exceptions: my first two novels, and let's just say those aren't going to make daylight anytime soon, ya know?

When I write, I try to use the first draft like an exploration of the story. It's sort of my way of seeing if a story is viable. I know this is a huge waste of time if I get to the end and say "Nope, no story here," but it's how I write. I've made extensive outlines, I've made NO outlines, but the only way I've found to tell if there is a novel is to write the story.

And to get over it being a complete waste of time, I've decided to just write my first draft as fast as possible, because, seriously? Pretty much the whole thing gets rewritten.

An example: I wrote a novel, in the allotted 12 weeks. I thought it was really clean. It was. I decided that there were a few things that could be done better. Just a few. So I rewrote the first 20K. Cool. Then I rewrote the last 15K. Then I added 20K and cut 15K. Then I gave it another pass where I added another 10K and cut 6K.

If you do the math, you see that I gave my supposedly clean novel, the one that was pretty good, and pretty close "finished," 65K new words. It's just over 75K. So only 10K from the original draft remained. Those original 65K were apparently less than, well--how to put this nicely?--crap.

I know that there are plenty of people out there who write a first draft, tinker with it a little, then call it awesomesauce on toast. To you I say, "Kudos!" because I can't work like that. I have to know exactly how the story ends before I can layer in all of the subtext (I suck at subtext... erg!) and describe things in a meaningful way. I probably suffer from some sort of attention disorder (OH SHINY!!!), but I have a limited time to get out a first draft. After that, I can tinker. 

The reason I'm putting this out there today, is that I think figuring out your process is a huge step in becoming a "real" writer. It took me a lot of time to figure out what kind of process worked best for me, and I'm still a work in progress. But there's more than one way. In fact, every process that leads to wonderful story is totally valid, but just in case you're struggling, this is my process: Write the crummy first draft (quickly to reduce the pain). Figure out if it will even work. Then replace practically every word with another word (and expect to do that part more than once).

Good luck out there, and go write!

This is the hard part

I used to think the hard part about writing was when you sat down to write.

I used to think that the hard part was getting up the courage to send query letters.

I used to think the hard part was revising a novel after you got nailed with form rejection letters (or worse, Silence).

I used to think the hard part was carefully listening to the feedback people gave you without becoming a defensive monster of rage.

I used to think waiting was the hard part.

I used to think the soul crushing self-doubt was the hard part.

Now I know that the real hard part about writing is whatever you’re doing right now. It’s all hard. Some of it is harder for some people (I am not a revising fan, for instance), and some of it is easy (courage enough to send my work into the world? Probably not an issue for me—keeping me from sharing has always been the hard part). It’s all hard. This moment is hard, but since we live through it, we start to think, “Oh, querying wasn’t that hard compared to this new hell I’m in: submission!” Or “I used to think writing a rough draft was hard, until my editor/beta reader/wonderful mother who reads all the time suggested that I take out my favorite scene.”

It’s this moment that is hard. Writing is hard. Every second of it is hard. Some parts are more fun than others, but none of it is easy.

But why, Rena, Why is it so hard? I love it so much, and it makes me want to pull my hair out!

I’ll tell you.

It’s not a secret after all.

Writing is hard because it is the greatest thing ever. It is more powerful than any other form of communication (doubt me, read the Hunger Games then go watch the movie; I cried more for Roo's death than the whole movie--though I did enjoy the movie tremendously). It is hard because everyone wants to do it. If it weren’t so hard, you’d never be able to find a good book because—literally!—everyone would do it. If you doubt me, go into any public place and ask if anyone has an idea for a book they'd like to write.

I’m not joking. Writing is hard because it is the greatest pursuit in the world.

And, yeah, I know people are rolling their eyes at me (I mean, shoot, isn’t Halo the most important pursuit in the world?), but it’s true. Writing is hard because otherwise, it’s just words.

Now get back out there and write. This is the hard part, but you can do it.

Routine and how it's okay to suck at it

I strive for consistency, but I fail.

I spent weeks gearing up to start revision, and nothing. It’s not writer’s block (something that I don’t really believe in; I mean really? No one ever talks about Sculpter’s block, so why should writers be special like that?). But it was less productive. There were things that I dreaded, so I didn’t start. Once I started, I moved at a slogging, tummy-turning speed. That first day I called myself awesome for making 200 words (go wonder writer!).

The next day it was another 300 words that got me the pat on the back.

Then I turned out 3000 new words, just like that. And since then, I’ve been flying. Of course, it’s a revision, so not everything needed to be rewritten from scratch, but the first 10,000 words are brand spanking new. This is pretty typical for me. Super slow, then super fast.

Getting started was the hardest part. For the beginning, I felt like I’d never get going. I felt like there was no reason to get started. It was like the very idea of working on the project was stupid. I have a Shiny New Idea, surely I should be developing that into a novel instead of wasting my time revising. Does any of this sound familiar? I’m neurotic enough that I know I’ve talked about this before, but sometimes I feel like we have these ideas about how writing should work.

When I draft, I have an idea of how much I should be able to write in a week, a quota if you will. But how I get to those words is a jumble of sprints and flares of note taking, punctuated by long hours of not getting stuff done, doing laundry, and doing the day job. I wish I could say that I really have the discipline to just sit and work, but I don’t. I work hard, and then I don’t. I have stretches of incredible productivity followed by absolutely nothing.

I’ve come to accept this about myself because if you set goals for yourself that you can’t (or don’t) reach, something happens. You get down on yourself, and then it’s harder to make any goals. I know people talk about having a daily quota. I can’t do that, I have to have weekly goals so my goals are flexible enough for me to get lost cleaning out closets or grading exams without going through the I’m-not-getting-work-done crazies.

What works for you, slow and steady wins the race? Or do you take off like the rabbit only to find yourself napping at the end? I always thought it was funny story since they both ended up at the finish line at about the same time…