First Drafts – Page 3

Writing Backward

Posted on 18 Oct 2009 by beckylevine

I made a discovery this weekend. Or, rather, a re-discovery, because this little piece of knowledge is something I’ve learned before, utilized many times, and–of course–forgotten until I had a need for it again.

Sometimes, its easier to write backward.

When I was in college, I did try and come up with that all-important thesis statement that drives an essay. After that, though, I would often write in this order:

Conclusion
Body paragraphs
Intro paragraph
Revision of that thesis statement that wasn’t quite right after all.

Why backward? Because sometimes you just can’t know how you’re getting somewhere, until you’ve been.

This last week, between dodging raindrops, staying afoot in huge winds, and lighting LOTS of candles, I got the outline and marketing/course information written for an online critique class that Writer’s Digest will be offering in December. This weekend, I started on the lessons. They’ll build on what I’ve written in The Writing & Critique Group Survival Guide, teaching critique tools and skills by having students critique first chapters or scenes from their classmates.

It took me a bit to focus in, but then I remember the backward writing. Which, in this case, took the form of developing–first–the bulleted list of questions the reader should ask themselves as they critique, and–second–writing the introductory text to set up those bullets. MUCH better.

As I worked, though, I was thinking about the other ways & times that backward writing is the form of choice. And here’s what I came up with:

Getting your hero to their scene goal and then figuring out the path they took.
Writing the fight scene between two (or three) characters, and then working out the scenes that will build in tension to that moment
Working out the climax of your novel first, so you know what’s the most important choice your hero will have to make
Developing exercises for your how-to book, to focus on your reader’s practical goal, before writing the guide’s main content
Writing the conclusion to your magazine article, to hone in on the one thing your should take away from the piece
Playing with the resolution to your memoir, to get closer to the theme of your personal story

Obviously, writing this way will not work every time. The opposite tact is to write through an entire draft–from start to finish, or skipping through the middle–to grow your own understanding of your project. I find that this backward style works best when I’m stuck, when I’m staring at the lead-in or some place in that vast middle of a project and not knowing what to write. Jumping ahead–flipping the coin over–gives me a jump-start, a different angle from which to see things.

And then, I find, I’m writing.

What about you? What did I miss? When do you decide to step off the linear, straightforward path and take a look at what the end can tell you about the beginning?

Character, First Drafts

Friday Five: Hey, Mama!

Posted on 9 Oct 2009 by beckylevine

One of my wonderful critique partners pointed out the other day, in a very nice way, that my MC’s mother is NOT very clearly drawn. Yes, I’m still writing that rough first draft, so this is to be expected. BUT…the mother is also the main antagonist. So, really, it would help if I understood her a little better than I do, to keep moving forward with all the scenes she’s in.

Today, the five questions I’m going to ask my MC’s mother.

1. What is your goal for each of your three children?

2. What is your definition of safety?

3. Why did you marry your husband?

4. What do you do, after your son’s accident, to make sure the rest of your family stays safe?

5. Are you glad, now, that you left Russia to come to Chicago? Why?

She’s been awfully quiet up until now. Let’s hope she’ll speak up and give me some answers.

Which character have you been letting hide away in the background? What do you need to find out about them before your story can be told?

Dialogue, First Drafts, Revision

Dialogue: My Least Favorite/Most Favorite Writing Tool

Posted on 4 Oct 2009 by beckylevine

What’s the toughest thing for me to write? Dialogue. What’s the writing element I probably revise the most? Dialogue. What’s my favorite, favorite thing to read in a book? Good dialogue.

(Hint: I’ve been reading & rereading some of S.J. Rozan’s Lydia Chin books. You want great, snappy, fast, real, funny character-specific dialogue? Go pick up some of this series.)

Usually, when I talk about dialogue, I put a lot of emphasis on the dialogue beats–the brief bits of action, reaction, or internal thought that surround the spoken words. Just ask my critique partners. But, in my own writing, I’m actually okay with that part. It seems to come smoothly and simply from my brain into the computer. It’s the actual words the characters are saying that I truly struggle with. Through many revisions.

Here’s a common process:

First draft, I just have them saying all the wrong things. I haven’t quite figured out a character’s scene goal or conflict and so I stick in some words, any words, just because I know I need some dialogue there.
Next draft, those words just disappear. I get closer to the things these people should be talking about, arguing about, but-oh, boy–are the new words clunky. Think a really bad ventriloquist. Or the villain with the big moustache in a melodrama.
Next draft, I’m smoothing things out. Characters are talking more like people, less like puppets. Except, often, they’re all talking like the same person.
Next draft, I work on differentiation. Again, I go through a clunky phase, using the same words too often or pushing phraseology too far toward an extreme. Finally, I start to see true individual traits and styles come through.

And it goes on from there. Sound familiar to anyone?

So why do I say that dialogue is my least andmost favorite tool? Because, when you get it right, it’s magic. Like Rozan’s. Good dialogue has more power in it than any amount of description or internal thought. It conveys story information, delivers characterization, causes conflict, and makes us laugh and cry.

And achieving that, in our own stories, is more than worth the struggle.

First Drafts, Getting Organized, Organization, Outlining, Plot, Scenes

Thursday’s Target-A Rainbow of Sticky Notes

Posted on 1 Oct 2009 by beckylevine

Yesterday, I reread Robin LaFevers post on index cards. Then I went out and bought some sticky notes. Two packs. Five colors each.

Because I’m confused.

Not from Robin’s post. From my own plot. Too confused to know what to write next. So I’m trying something that occasionally works for me, but only occasionally–going visual.

My MC has three (maybe four) possible paths. Well, in all likelihood, she’ll follow all the paths somewhere in the story. I think. At the end, though, she has to choose one. I know this. I even know WHICH path she’ll choose. I also know (darn it!) that I can’t just lay these paths out sequentially or in parallel, which is how they’re feeling in my brain right now. No, I have to weave them.

Which means I need connections. Overlaps. Characters with more than one role. Layers.

I know, these come in revision. And I’m still on the first draft. Well, actually, I’m just a bit stalled on the first draft.

I think writer’s block may actually be this kind of stall–and maybe more aptly named writer’s jam. It’s not that I don’t have any ideas. It’s not that I can’t see my MC acting, going places, talking to people. It’s that I have LOTS of ideas, lots of action, people, and places. But they’re all crowded together, like I’ve poured them into one of those cake-icing bags–the ones that narrow down to a tiny hole. And all the ideas are trying to get out that hole…at the same time.

So I’m going to play with my sticky notes today, on my whiteboard, and try to come up with some pattern that shows me what to focus on. What to pull out of the hat next. I’m going to use a different color for every scene on one of those three (four?) paths and then try to move things around. (Yes, I know I said I had 10 colors. Hey, you never know!) Hopefully, I’ll get THE idea that lets me move forward.

What do you do when you need a “lightbulb moment”?

Critique Groups, Critiquing, First Drafts, The Writing Path

Getting a 1st Draft Critiqued…Yes or No?

Posted on 14 Sep 2009 by beckylevine

And of course, my answer is…it depends.

PJ Hoover, author of The Emerald Tablet, had this to say about her first drafts. It sounded very familiar, and it got me thinking.

I’m working on the first draft for my WIP and know, very firmly, that no eyes but mine shall see the actual words. I’ve finally realized that I have so much to figure out & understand about this story, that the draft is truly exploratory only. I chose this path, also, on my last book–the middle-grade mystery. That was the first draft I wrote via Book in a Week, the system I heard about from April Kihlstrom, and I was able to dive right into the second draft, with a lot more structure and a more active hero, and pass those chapters onto my critique group. At this point on my writing path, I’m just more aware of how rough these early stages truly are, and I have more confidence in my ability to do some of my own work with this mud clay I’m trying to shape.

For years, though, in my earlier writing and critiquing days, I did submit first-draft chapters to my critique group. There are days when I really miss doing things that way. And I think, depending on the writer, there are definite pluses to this kind of sharing.

You are not writing in a vacuum.
When you are writing a first draft, it’s just you and the computer. While this can help you keep a flow going, it can also leave you with plenty of doubts and worries about the progress you’re making. Okay, the computer isn’t going to tell you that your plot line (what plot line?) is weak or that you’re wrong about how a circus tent smells. But neither is that computer going to reach out and give you a pat on the back, tell you that a character is getting interesting, or hand you some dark chocolate for getting all the way to Chapter 10. The support of a critique group can be just the encouragement a writer needs to…keep writing.
You have a “soft” deadline.
A meeting every two weeks can be a great motivator. Sure, if a group’s critique schedule is too strongly enforced, that schedule can translate into nothing but pressure, which–if you’re like me–is about the greatest shut-down device ever invented. In a good group, though, a meeting on the calendar can be a reminder that you’re in this group because you want to write. Because you want to get some pages out. Two chapters a month for a year adds up to 24 chapters. Sounds like a first draft to me.
You may get some fodder for that learning curve.
In a first draft, you think while you write. Well, there’s nothing to say that a few other people thinking about that writing has to be a bad thing. Yes, your critiquers must remember (and they will, because you’ll remind them!) that this is a FIRST draft. They need NOT to be marking commas or rewriting your description of the Cannes Film Festival that they just happened to visit last month. They can, however, talk to you about that hero you’re developing and make suggestions about his or her strengths and flaws. They can point out the places where you’ve written tension to make them crawl out of their skins and the places where…you haven’t. You can look at this comparison with pieces of your own work and start to grow a skill.

Obviously, when you’re writing and when you’re critiquing, you need to make the decision about what stage is right for you to share your work. You need to recognize whether a critique will frighten you off from your own story, stalling you out, or whether it will help you give weight and value to that story, providing a supportive audience that is not the black hole of your CPU. You need to be very careful about going back and revising too much from this early feedback, rather than using it to propel you forward.

However, I hear a lot of authors saying, however, never to show a first draft, never to get it critiqued.

And I say, well…never say “never.” Sometimes, it’s more than a little okay to say “yes.”

First Drafts, Plot, Scenes

Writing Out of Order

Posted on 10 Sep 2009 by beckylevine

Yesterday, I typed up a quick “summary” of my story, for a critique partner who’s coming up today to do some talking & brainstorming. Summary is in quotes there, because, well…there are lots of gaps and “I don’t know yets” along the way.

But what I really noticed missing is any real sequence to the events.

It’s not that my MC isn’t making choices. Much. The thing is, she just isn’t making them very well yet, and she’s not being really good about making them based on what’s going on around her.

Silly girl.

What’s the big thing about a synopsis? Cause and effect. Yep. This happens, SO the MC takes this action, which makes this happen, which causes her to do this. Etc, etc, etc… Also the big thing about the whole story plot.

Not there yet.

In my mystery, much as I love my character’s, the story–even the early drafts–was very plot driven. And it was a plot I knew before I started writing, the story of a crime, a need to solve, and steps to find clues, check out suspects, and–along the way–stay out of trouble with mom and dad. When I ended a scene, I could say, “Okay, what would he do NOW? Where does he need to go? Who does he need to talk to?” In this WIP, while I know my hero’s need, and I know the big choices she’ll face and make along the way, those questions aren’t quite working yet.

I’ve got a picture in my mind of a later draft, where I do use scene cards. I’ll write the main goal and action of each scene on a card, then think and sort and organize into a nice, tight path with just the right balance of action and character growth. It’ll look something like the perfect hand of gin rummy. Or poker.

Not so much like a game of 52-pickup. 🙂

What about you? How do you play with sequence? How much do you worry about getting it right in early drafts? Or do you step back later, work your magic, and get it all to fly into place?

Character, First Drafts, Heroes

Keeping My Hero’s Story HER Story

Posted on 5 Sep 2009 by beckylevine

So I’ve been doing a lot of research this week. Finding out more about the world my MC lives in–the places she’ll go and the things, and people, that she’ll see. It’s helping, I think, as I hone in on problems she’ll face and scenes she’ll act out & through.

It does, however, keep bringing up the biggest challenge I think I face with this book–and that is how to keep my MC’s story at the fore, with the history playing an important background to her choices and paths. This is very important to me, because one of the frustrating things to me about some historical fiction is when the hero’s story is secondary, or worse, lost.

What’s happening, at least at this point in the draft, is that my MC is taking the first steps that will, I think, turn her into a true hero—the rescuing kind, not just the protagonist kind. She is going to have to make some big choices for herself, but along the way, she’s going to make some big choices for others. Which is good. She needs to do that. But it can’t be ALL for everybody else. The choices she does make for her own path have to, in the most important way, be for HER–her growth, her change, her life. Otherwise, I don’t see it as her story.

So what I’m trying to keep in mind is:

What mistakes/negative choices my MC could make that risk hurting/do hurt those others around her
What selfish choices my hero can make for herself, before the big choice and–maybe–mixed in with that big choice
How to show those choices–as truly wrong, bad–not just accidental or innocent
How to have her recovery from those bad choices not be simple or perfect or completely redeeming. How to have that recovery be part of the true, flawed person she has to be

I swear, at this point, my MC goes back and forth between being just a selfish teenager and being too good to be true. First draft, I keep telling myself. First draft.

First Drafts, Getting Organized, Thinking

Friday Five: Finding My Way Back into My Story

Posted on 21 Aug 2009 by beckylevine

Today, with a gift of two free writing days (husband and son are off for an end-of-summer backpacking trip), I’m opening up my WIP and digging back in.

Feels wonderful.

Here’s what I’ll be doing:

1. Writing OUTSIDE the house. I’m heading over to the coffeehouse where I’ll be away from laundry and the kitchen cupboards that still need to be cleaned out and all the wonderful books I brought home from the library yesterday.

2. Spending some time thinking generationally. Ideas & thoughts about the mother-daughter pattern of my story—the fears engendered during one’s immigration and the resistance/frustration the other has about those fears—have been simmering the last couple of weeks. I’m pretty sure this is what I brought home from Chicago, both from the research part and from the hours spent with my sister on our family tree. Its brought those two threads together in my mind–not in any clear way yet, but as a weaving I need to focus on. I’m going to try and build a basic timeline of their lives and choices, making sure they also fit in the big historical events that need to be part of their stories.

3. Taking a look at Shutting Out the Sky, a book about tenements recommended to me by Stella Michel.

4. Browing through the chapters I have written. I’m in a much different mode now–realizing I was rushing through pages too quickly for the thinking I need to do on this story. I’m not going to go back and rewrite, but I’ll be taking along a pad of sticky notes to jot down possible changes to make, layers to add, on later drafts. I also just need to remind myself where I’m at and from which scene I need to start writing forward.

5. Let myself fall in love again. Between Chicago and getting life organized the last few weeks, I need to spend some time with Caro, remind myself why her story is so important to me and how I want to bring it onto the page. I’ll be doing a lot of jotting and doodling today and tomorrow, and I may stick a few pieces of paper up around my office to remind me of what I’m doing here, with this young woman.

What about you? What do you do to get back into the swing of the story, after the two of you have been separated for a while?

First Drafts

The Magic Bracket, or It’s About Story

Posted on 10 Jun 200910 Jun 2009 by beckylevine

I have a new friend. It looks like this:

[

Or, if you look at it with from the other side, more like this:

]

Full on, it’s a bit more complex and robust:

[gobbledygook]

Brackets. Or, if you want to call them by their official writing name, that would be: placeholder. (In the editing life, it’s more often referred to as Important Question or Explanation for Writer to READ!!!!!)

I’ve always liked brackets. They work well for those days when my brain is functioning poorly, when I can’t bring up a word I know I want, or can’t remember whether the handle on the ceiling at The Mystery Spot is inside the first or second doorway. (My son swears they did not move it.)

I’m using them more in this WIP than I ever thought possible. With all the history, I have read, you’d think there would be fewer gaps in the details I can supply about Chicago in 1913. Well, okay, you’d only think that if you were me, hoping against hope! I have names for, wait for it…yes: Four characters. Not counting the parents, who must have first names (and last) in there somewhere. I refer to the young, male possibilities characters as [LI1] and [LI2]. LI=Love Interest.

Don’t even get me started on that.

To another person (i.e., the person I was during the first few days of writing), all these holes might be irritating. Nerve-wracking. Terrifying like having to kayak back to the dock when your glasses are at the bottom of the ocean. (No, you can’t hear that story today.)

The last couple of days, though, I’m starting to remember the grace of these two little pieces of punctuation. They give me speed. And freedom. They give me permission notto concentrate on the words, which will change, anyway. (And change…and change.)

Instead, I’m thinking about the story. About what needs to happen next, about what each of the characters is thinking about in any given scene, about their reactions to events and to each other. I’m not getting that story down, not yet, but it’s gelling as I write.

And the uses of those brackets are growing. They’re not just for gaps anymore.

They’re for ideas.

They’re for letting me see that this seed of a book will, with work, grow into something strong. Strong enough to be read.

Do you use brackets? Italics? Bright pink font? What do you leave placeholders for, and how do they affect your writing? Chime in!

First Drafts

I Need a Metaphor

Posted on 27 May 200927 May 2009 by beckylevine

Or maybe it’s an analogy. I’m not going to dig out the dictionary or the style guide to make sure. Besides, I’m guessing most of you are just as vague and blurry on the difference as me.

I’ve been working on my first draft for two days now. I’m up to page 27 in my nifty DRAFT 1 binder, which breaks down to five very short scenes. Very short. Which may be okay. Or not.

And I keep trying to think of that exact phrase, that perfect image that will show (not tell!) what this all feels like.

I’ve been searching for this metaphor analogy metaphor for years. As an editor, I would try to explain to clients what revision is like, that you’re taking this…something and pulling it apart, ripping it into pieces, putting it back together. When I started speaking at workshops, I found myself waving my arms around in the air, trying to draw, maybe, what this…whatever looked like, and why it was such a good way to actually start creating a novel. I’ve used these not-quite-there, close-but-no-cigar descriptions:

It’s like a lump of clay. Except you don’t just go out and buy it; you actually have to mix everything together until you’ve created the lump.
It’s like making Pytt i Panna, which is actually a kind of Swedish hash, but is also the phrase my husband uses to describe when his mother cooked by pretty much pulling leftovers out of the fridge and cooking them all together in one pot. Or maybe she wasn’t that random, but he sure is.
It’s kind of like that sculptor (Michelangelo? DaVinci? Someone else?) who said he didn’t carve the statue; he chipped away at the rock until the statue came out. Except it’s not really like that, it’s more like actually building or growing the rock in the first place.
And my all-time favorite, dug deep out of the ooh-gross file: It’s the “vomit draft.” Get everything out now and worry about cleaning it up later.

As you can see, none of these is exactly poetic. (Hey, maybe it was Aristotle who made the comment about the statue!) And none of them has that seamless beauty that you get when you truly hit the nail on the head. Instead of your thumb.

So I’m coming to you all. What do you call your first draft. (Keep it clean, please!) What analogy metaphorthingamabob do you use to explain what this feels like, this process of creating the gunk out of which you hope to create something…more? Please, share your thoughts in the comments. If I use your idea at a workshop or conference, I promise to give you an attribution. Okay, it may be something like, “One of the wonderful, brilliant people who read my blog told me….,” but I will definitely admit that someone sharper than me solved this dilemma!