Call the GARDS!!!*

You know, it’s Friday, and I haven’t watched Legolas by Laura in a long time. Sure it’s been around, but really, this is worth seven minutes.

Now before you watch you should know some things: 

a) This is fanfic (dubbed badfic for reasons).

b) It’s unknown if Laura (the writer of this) was actually a Troll. Apparently someone claiming to be the author said they wrote it badly on purpose. Someone also claiming to be the writer said they wrote it badly because they have learning disabilities.

I’m going to tag this one as not totally safe for work. Not because there are naked bodies (all the parts are covered up) but because you’ll probably start laughing too hard to hear the next joke.

*(that’s misspelled on purpose)

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!

Mommy, where do ideas come from?

 

I know some people struggle with inspiration, and I am blessed that I am not one of them (I’m sorry, I really do feel your pain). Sometimes, my ideas grow into full novels, and sometimes they get scrapped early on (I almost always know by the second chapter). I was recently asked where I find inspiration, and I quipped that inspiration finds me.

I feel lucky that my inspiration is so insistent (I swear, it really is like lightning strikes or a train runs me over, and pop! I have an idea for a novel). Sometimes, I wish I had a little more consistency when it came to ideas. Sure I can come up with ideas, but my novels really do pop into my mind almost fully formed. This is not how everyone gets their ideas. And once, to prove to myself that I could, I took another route. I didn’t write the novel that dumped itself into my brain. I started with a little seed of something, and laboriously developed it. Like an architect, I designed the conflict. I dreamt up the world. I designed the bad guy to fit the MC. I threw rocks at my MC, and she scrambled up the plot tree like all the other stories. People who have read that story absolutely love it. They love it just as much as the novel ideas that plow me over in the grocery store, ensuring that I forget to pick up the milk.

Which is to say, ideas are cheap. Yes, I get them in great spouting torrents that will ruin my whole day because I have to write down every scrap of note that comes my way. But—BUT—ideas can be developed from the tiniest moments in your everyday life. They can be cultivated and coaxed into very compelling stories.

And here’s where people will just want to shoot me: it’s a skill, not a talent.

The ability to take an idea and develop it into a rich and powerful novel is a skill. You can learn how to do it. All of it. Yes some people are more talented than others, but this isn’t like being a ballerina. With ballet, you have to be born with the right body, have talent pouring out fingernails, AND you have to WORK HARD for years, giving up most of your childhood.

Getting ideas for novels isn’t like that. You don’t need any talent at it, just curiosity and the ability to project something into the future. If you can answer the question “What if?” Then you have all it takes to come up with an idea for a novel. (If you can answer the question “how could this be worse?” you’re already on your way to being a fantastically evil writer!) During his class at BYU on novel writing, Brandon Sanderson talks about the difference between the ideas that are mulishly dragged into a novel through monotonous drudgery and the stories that pour from the author’s fingertips.

You know the difference to the reader right? Nothing. That’s right, most readers cannot tell the difference between the novels that are a dragged into existence by teams of wild horses, and the stories that just blossomed out of the snow.

I’m not gonna lie: I’m lucky, but I’ve done it the other way. It’s totally doable. So if you’re hanging out right now trying to figure out how to get an idea for your next novel, just know that you’re not alone. It ain’t easy, but if you don’t want to wait for inspiration, only you will know the difference. And it might even work out more efficiently. Recently, my ideas have been delivered by a disheveled muse with an armful of papers. He throws the pile at me and rushes for the door. “Can’t talk, late!” Quite the prat, really. I mean late for what? Was that poor muse assigned to my case by losing a bet or what? Are budgets so bad they started assigning muses whole bevies of young authors in the hopes that some would drop out and not waste the muse? Still, the whole idea is there, but I have to spend longer and longer untangling it.

How about you? Got a muse up your sleeve? Is he half as busy as mine? Does he look like the same muse? I’m starting to wonder if he’s pulling double duty (and why is mine a he??).

Showing unexpected character

First, you guys are so awesome. You all had such wonderful things to say on IWSG on Wednesday. If I haven’t made it to your blog yet, don’t worry, I’m on my way. You guys rock.

Second, I’m plowing away on a new manuscript. It has a name. I don’t know if I should share yet. I love the idea of it, but already my characters are getting into shenanigans of their own. And twice I’ve had to ask characters to leave the scene (they gave me the finger and sat down front and center). I’m not usually that person who talks about the characters like they have minds of their own. Usually, I know my characters, and they behave.

Well, what did I expect from pirates anyway?

So yes, I’m writing a story about pirates who have to save the world from a dominating order of priests with a tendency to burn people at the stake for fun.

It’s in the awkward phase where my characters are giving me the stink eye because I keep playing them wrong. It’s like I’m a bad director with mutinous actors, and they keep doing it their own way. I’m sure we’ll negotiate a cease fire soon.

Which brings me to something else: I’m not usually that writer who talks about my characters taking off with a story. I’ve never really been surprised by my characters before, and they most certainly have never given me the finger. I’m a little taken aback (possibly even mildly offended). And since my characters have never acted this way, I’m sort of in that awkward place where I’m asking “but wait, how do I know you lot have the brains to make a good story? I even outlined this one! I never do outlines!”

Mostly they have responded with, “You got any rum?” Not very reassuring.

Until recently, I’ve always had really well behaved characters. Sure they’d surprise me with what they said every now and then, but these characters feel like a force of nature. I’m sure this is some sign that this book is going to suck, but that’s what first drafts are for: suckage. I must now practice my new mantra: Revisions will fix what my characters break.

How about you? Do your characters hair off with the plot, give you the finger and write themselves into something totally unexpected? Did it work out, or did you have to revise the potato peels out of the manuscript? Do you think it’s lazy writing to let the characters wander away with the story?

IWSG Untalented and Unaware

It’s the first Wednesday of the month, and that means it’s time to release our fears into the world, tie our sins to the goat and scare it into the forest. I feel a bit like the goat this month, but more on that later. The Insecure Writers’ Support Group was started by Ninja Captain Alex, a mighty fine read on the internet if I ever saw one, and this month’s co-hosts are are Annalisa Crawford, Julie Luek, and Elsie. If you’re new to the IWSG, go over to Alex’s blog and hop on the Linky and read up.

This week I’m talking about something that has always worried me, but more now than ever. You see, when I was a kid, people would praise all sorts of things that I did. I sang; I danced; I was in plays, and every time people would tell me how great I was at these things. But then I went out into the real world—the world not wrapped in a small town where I was related by blood to a third of the town (no seriously, I had six cousins in my English class)—things were different. The band director scowled at me when I auditioned for the band. He took me, but only because there weren’t enough trombones. Sing for the band? Ha! He had others “much better suited.” It turned out to be his girlfriend. I auditioned for plays, and never got call backs. I had been a star, but the more I was out in the real world, I realized that I had never been all that special. There was a whole sea of special, and I was lucky to have sight of the shore. Worse, I realized how untalented, untrained, and unprepared I was for the real world.

And now I wonder if the same is true about writing.

I mean, sure, I read a lot, but how do I compare myself to others? I’ve written a lot at this point (I’ve got you in my sites 1 million words!), but comparing my skill set is something that I still find myself totally unable to do. And yet, I’m starting to feel like I’ve got a feel for how I write, and what makes it good.

And that scares me.

The last time I thought I was good at stuff, it turned out I was untalented and unaware. I know most writers start in that place, but I zoomed through it pretty quickly. I’d already experienced the heartbreak that comes from expecting to be a big shot and discovering I was the bug not the windshield. So when I realized that I might be poorly equipped to judge my own work, I went at it with a hatchet (but I kept writing new stuff). I listened to every scrap of advice and feedback, and I slavishly followed whenever possible. I tore apart my work, and I put it back together.

And then something happened.

I got feedback that I didn’t agree with.

More frightening, it was from an industry professional. And I didn’t agree with it on a visceral level. Like if I’d gotten that advice while reading a book, I’d have chucked the book across the room. It was a classic case of “didn’t get it.”

But then a thought crept in: What if she’s right, and I’m wrong? What if I’m still untalented and unaware (again!)?

Then my negative voice saw the chink in my armor and went crazy. What if every nice thing anyone has ever said was just the nice part of the criticism sandwich? What if I really do suck and everyone is just being nice about it?

It was pretty easy to quell all the ridiculous bits from the little voice, but I’m still left wondering if I’ve just gotten too big for my britches. What’s worse, I’ve already tried opening the story the way the publishing professional suggested. EVERYONE hated it. EVERYONE. Even my mom said she didn’t like it.

But was that a failing of mine?

So yeah, I am now standing on the shaky ground of I believe in my story the way it is, but someone said they didn’t think it was very strong. Now what?

If you’ve been here, boy do I know how you felt. But I realized something: there are all kinds of people in the world. All kinds. There are people who don’t care if you can’t use a hyphen or always get peak, peek, pique confused. There are people who have strong feelings about how you spell grey (or is it gray?). And in publishing, it only takes one yes.

Whether I’m right or I’m wrong, there’s only one thing left to do: write the next novel.