Posted in First Drafts

1st Draft: Digging Back In

I’ve been on a bit of a hiatus from my YA WIP. It’s been a couple of weeks of spring break vacation, developing and delivering talks, doing some work for a client, getting through a couple of big research books, getting to the next step on my picture book, and I can’t actually remember what else. Although I’m sure there’s more. 🙂

Anyway, the decks are cleared for at least a week, and this week I AM WRITING. (If I could figure out how to do a bigger font in WordPress, you’d really hear me shouting that one.)

Yes, I am writing. Even though, in the perfect scheme of things, I’m not actually ready.

When we last tuned in to the Bat Channel, Batman and Robin were hanging from a beam over a pot of bubbling….

Oops. When I last tuned in to my story, I was not happy with it. The scene I finished up and sent off to my critique group was drifty and unfocused, the MC was NOT on any strong path–forward or backward, and nobody was doing anything I wanted them to do. Probably because I didn’t know what they should be doing.

Well, let me tell you. Coming back to a story that I’ve left in this state, especially after a number of days away, I could totally spend a week in recovery. You know, thinking and thinking and thinking about where I am in the book, rather than storing the questions on the KEEP THINKING shelf in my brain, and writing forward.

I’m staying away from recovery this week. Part of this decision comes from the fact that in a couple of weeks, things get busy all over again, and I want to make some progress NOW. Part of it comes from the fact that I truly believe that getting a first draft OUT will teach me more about my character, about my plot, than going back will…at least right now. But the big part of it is that…I MISS WRITING.

(I apologize for all the capital letters. I seem to be channeling Dorothy Sayers’ Miss Climpson today.)

And so I am going to write. I’m even jumping back in at a point where I should really do more research, since I’m writing the first scene in the book that takes place in a public school in 1913 Chicago, and I seriously don’t have a grasp of that world yet. My mantra for the week? “This can wait.” (See, no more all caps!) I’m going to stick her in a desk and surround her with girls and a teacher, and I’m going to concentrate on goal + obstacle = tension, and I’m going to PRODUCE WORDS. (Oops!)

What do you do when you’ve had to take a break? Do you step back in slowly, or do you throw yourself into the whirlpool, let yourself get sucked under, and see where you end up?

Have a wonderful writing week!

Posted in Critique Groups, First Drafts, Uncategorized

Thankful Thursday: Another One for the Critique Group

I’ve been writing an icky scene.

No, not one with blood and guts (wait, maybe that’s what it needs!). One where the writing was just dragging along, not flowing, where I was staring at it and knowing that–even for a first draft–it was not making me happy.  In other words, the staring wasn’t helping. And next week is slotted (in my mental writing calendar) for a bit of work on my picture book and a bit more work on some talks I’m getting ready to give. So, you know, it would have been easy just to stall out on this scene, let it sit on the computer, and then–yes–have it be that much harder to face when I came back to it.
Or…  I could push through it, with the unhappiness, get it “done,” and send it out to my critique group, knowing that it’s totally safe to share with them and knowing that I’ll get ideas, thoughts, suggestions…HELP!

And then I got an email from my mom who, as I’ve mentioned here before, is pretty darned wise. She’s been working on her memoir, first through a class at the local community college and then–when funding got cancelled for the class (BOO, HISS!), with the group of people who decided to keep writing together. I’d just given her a basic critique, with a few thoughts about scene structure and showing, not telling, and I know she’d planned to get right back to writing. Turns out, not quite so fast–she’s not only a wise woman, but a very busy one. Anyway, turns out  is the meeting of her group. Here’s what Mom said in her email:

          We’re meeting this afternoon, so I HAD to get something written. 

Ha!

Yes, that is the motivation magic of a critique group. It’s the kind of deadline that, in a strong & supportive group, puts just the right amount of pressure on us–the good kind. The kind that says we’re free to get past the reluctance, distaste, or fear about whatever that current writing piece is–to push through it, get it to some kind of “done,” and send it out.

Free to keep moving forward.

Posted in First Drafts

Remembering What I Love about Writing

This week, I broke a rule. A rule I have told other writers, loud and often, not to break.

I started over.

I spent some time in the fall putting words on pages. I went back and forth between writing scenes and reading research books. I got close to a hundred pages written. They weren’t bad. They probably qualified as the stuff that Anne Lamott says we need to get out of us, before we can revise. There was one problem.

I wasn’t happy.

Note I didn’t say that I wasn’t happy with the pages. I just wasn’t happy. I wasn’t enjoying any of the process. Oh, I’d write a few paragraphs in a voice that was fun, or I’d describe a bit of setting that looked pretty good. But I wasn’t being pulled back to write more, and I wasn’t looking forward to spending time with my MC. Who, frankly, is a pretty awesome person.

So I backed up. I spent November and December plotting the order of scenes, getting a much better idea of things that can happen in the middle, and starting to see a glimpse of how my two history threads (that DO intersect in reality) might intersect in my MC’s life. I spent time with each of my characters, trying to discover each of their goals, and I got closer. By the end of the year, I felt like I had a much stronger sense of the story.

And it had very little to do with what I’d written.

So I started over. Chapter 1, Scene 1, Page 1.

I’m slowing myself down, putting down some basic points for each scene before I start writing. Letting myself pause and think as I write, keeping in mind those character goals I thought about last month. I’m pushing myself to keep the dramatic action/conflict coming, even when I know I’ll have to amp it up later. Honestly, if you took the 100 pages I wrote this fall and compared them to the 100 pages I’m going to write in the next couple of months, I’m guessing they wouldn’t look that different. The characters and actions would probably look the same, and it’s probable that the new 100 pages won’t be any better, not from the outside.

But guess what? I’m happy again. The love is back, the feeling that this writing is THE thing I want to do with my life, no matter where it takes me on the “success” path. And I know that this is a story I want to tell.

Now I’m not planning on breaking this rule again. I still believe that too much time playing with words and phrasing at this point, in a first draft, can be a disasterous form of procrastination. But…as I get older, I’m learn (I hope!) some flexibility. I’m learning to listen more to myself, to my mind and my gut, and to take a few more chances that they might be right.

So, here and now, I give you permission to break a rule. Okay, let’s not make it one that lands you in prison with no writing time, but look for a little one that’s been bugging you. What have you heard in the past year about how to write, how not to write, that just isn’t working for you? What do you want to try instead–even if only for a few days, to check it out? Go for it…I’d love to see what happens!

Posted in Book in a Week, First Drafts, NaNoWriMo, Revising

Let’s Talk about 1st Drafts: A (Hopefully) Gentle Post-Nano Pep Talk

A week or so ago, I blogged about progress–thinking about what people would be feeling as they came to the end of NaNo. Now that NaNo is over & authors everywhere are actually looking over what they did produce in November, I’m feeling the need to talk about things a little bit more. Actually, this post is prompted in part by the disappointment an online friend was (hopefully, not is, anymore) feeling about her 1st draft. So this may turn into a bit of a rant.

Qualifier: I very much like the idea of NaNo. I did a variant in Book in a Week a few years ago, and I was thrilled with the results–with where that week got me, in terms of understanding my story and in terms of having actual material to move forward with.

Note that I did not say I was thrilled with the draft.

That first draft was–well, let’s just call it an Anne Lamott-approved 1st draft. I sat down to read it after the week, and started scribbling notes and thoughts, and then I stopped reading. Because it was just that bad.

I did not stop revising. By maybe 1/3 of the way through, I’d seen that my hero was being a totally passive observer, letting his sidekick drive the choices and actions of the story. I didn’t have to read the whole manuscript to find out whether he continued that way; I knew he did. And I knew that, before I could do any other revising, I had to tackle this major problem.

So I wrote a second draft, in which I pushed that hero to the front. I made the story goals his goals, and I threw the obstacles in his path. Did I work on other, smaller issues as I went through all the chapters? Of course, I did–I’m human! But that was the revision focus. And when I finished that draft, I had something I thought I could work with. Something I thought I could pass through my critique group without too much humiliation and embarrassment.

What’s my point? That first draft–whether you wrote it in a week or a month–is supposed to be bad. REALLY bad. How could it be otherwise? Unless you have the brain of, I don’t know…Stephen Hawking? Albert Einstein? William Shakespeare? ______________ ? (Fill in the blank with the name of any famous author you’ve heard say they DO write a beautiful first draft!), you cannot write a manuscript that fast and THINK about it at the same time. Yes, I know, you did think. So did I during the Book in a Week process. But I thought for seconds and minutes. I did not think for hours, because I had none of those to spare. And neither did you.

What do you have, from your NaNo work? Do you have crap? If you answer anywhere near “Yes,” I want you to step away from the computer, give yourself a hug and some chocolate, and do the happy dance. Because you’re supposed to have crap. And you got it in a month–many of us take a YEAR (or more) to reach that point! You get to start turning that horrible stuff into something better 11 months ahead of schedule. Are you on Twitter? Did you see all the tweets from agents and editors, in varying degrees of tact, asking you NOT to query them about this manuscript on December 1st? The fact that you recognize how bad your first draft is proves you have the skill level and the knowledge of the craft to see that.

Okay, rant finished. But seriously, if you’re feeling disappointed or discouraged or–please, no–like you’ve failed in any way, well, just don’t!  Is there something you particularly hate about the story so far? Wonderful! Take that element and fix it. Figure out what you hate about it, why it makes you want to take the whole manuscript and use it to heat the wood-burning stove this winter, and revise around that problem. Save the AL-approved 1st draft, if you want to reassure yourself that you’re not losing any treasures (but really so you can show yourself how much BETTER that next draft is–and the next, and the next…).

I love NaNo and BIAW. I love the idea of tackling this big a project in such a short time, of riding an adrenalin wave, of producing more words and ideas than you ever thought possible. I browsed through NaNo’s website before writing this blog, and that’s really what the month is supposed to be about. I do not like all the bad feelings that come to some NaNo writers when the adrenalin leaves, and the crash comes. No matter how bad those words look on the page, you have achieved something wonderful.

Let yourself believe that.

Posted in Dialogue, First Drafts, Revision

Dialogue: My Least Favorite/Most Favorite Writing Tool

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.

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

Thursday’s Target-A Rainbow of Sticky Notes

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”?

Posted in Critique Groups, Critiquing, First Drafts, The Writing Path

Getting a 1st Draft Critiqued…Yes or No?

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.”

Posted in First Drafts, Plot, Scenes

Writing Out of Order

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?

Posted in First Drafts

The Magic Bracket, or It’s About Story

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!

Posted in First Drafts

I Need a Metaphor

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!