Steven James's Blog, page 201
February 26, 2013
I have two stories in the same story world, 3000 years apart. One is done and needs revising (chronologically first), and one has been rewritten several times but I plan to start from scratch this time (story is much more definable and developed). Would yo
Two issues pop to mind for me: openings and context.
You mention that the two stories are in the same story world; I’m not sure if that means they appear in the same novel, or if you’re talking about two separate books.
In either case, without being familiar with the context of your stories, it’s not possible to decide which one needs your more immediate attention. Remember that stories need escalation of conflict and tension, so, if one of the stories builds up to a more intense climax, that one should come last, chronologically. You always want to save the best for last, the plot must always thicken, never thin.
I’m not sure if Tolstoy actually said this, but there’s a story in writing circles that he once said, “The first thing they read is the last thing you write.” Here’s the point: You’ll only know how a story needs to begin when you know how it ends. If it ends with a person deciding to move from Cincinnati to LA, you know that, at the beginning, this has to be their struggle. So, when you get done, you would go back and recast the beginning so that it is tied in inextricably to the end of the story.
Too many writers spend inordinate amounts of time on their openings, their hooks and so on. They go to “first page critiques” sessions with other writers and bring their work to their local writers groups and keep polishing something that they might not even use in the end. Instead, it’s vital that we work through our stories, flesh them out, see where they lead, and then, once we know where they’re going, head back to the beginning and start them off aiming in that direction.
Whichever story you decide to develop first, let it inform your work on the other story—whether that involves making promises and foreshadowing (if you write the one that comes 3000 years before the other), or if it means fulfilling your promises (if you write the later story first).
Finally, I would suggest that you follow your passion. You might be more excited about one or the other. I’d go with that one. Let that give you momentum and fuel for the long hours of writing you will undoubtedly need.
You mention that the two stories are in the same story world; I’m not sure if that means they appear in the same novel, or if you’re talking about two separate books.
In either case, without being familiar with the context of your stories, it’s not possible to decide which one needs your more immediate attention. Remember that stories need escalation of conflict and tension, so, if one of the stories builds up to a more intense climax, that one should come last, chronologically. You always want to save the best for last, the plot must always thicken, never thin.
I’m not sure if Tolstoy actually said this, but there’s a story in writing circles that he once said, “The first thing they read is the last thing you write.” Here’s the point: You’ll only know how a story needs to begin when you know how it ends. If it ends with a person deciding to move from Cincinnati to LA, you know that, at the beginning, this has to be their struggle. So, when you get done, you would go back and recast the beginning so that it is tied in inextricably to the end of the story.
Too many writers spend inordinate amounts of time on their openings, their hooks and so on. They go to “first page critiques” sessions with other writers and bring their work to their local writers groups and keep polishing something that they might not even use in the end. Instead, it’s vital that we work through our stories, flesh them out, see where they lead, and then, once we know where they’re going, head back to the beginning and start them off aiming in that direction.
Whichever story you decide to develop first, let it inform your work on the other story—whether that involves making promises and foreshadowing (if you write the one that comes 3000 years before the other), or if it means fulfilling your promises (if you write the later story first).
Finally, I would suggest that you follow your passion. You might be more excited about one or the other. I’d go with that one. Let that give you momentum and fuel for the long hours of writing you will undoubtedly need.
I have two stories in the same story world, 3000 years apart. One is done and needs revising (chronologically first), and one has been rewritten several times but I plan to start from scratch this time (story is much more definable and developed). Would yo
Two issues pop to mind for me: openings and context.
You mention that the two stories are in the same story world; I’m not sure if that means they appear in the same novel, or if you’re talking about two separate books.
In either case, without being familiar with the context of your stories, it’s not possible to decide which one needs your more immediate attention. Remember that stories need escalation of conflict and tension, so, if one of the stories builds up to a more intense climax, that one should come last, chronologically. You always want to save the best for last, the plot must always thicken, never thin.
I’m not sure if Tolstoy actually said this, but there’s a story in writing circles that he once said, “The first thing they read is the last thing you write.” Here’s the point: You’ll only know how a story needs to begin when you know how it ends. If it ends with a person deciding to move from Cincinnati to LA, you know that, at the beginning, this has to be their struggle. So, when you get done, you would go back and recast the beginning so that it is tied in inextricably to the end of the story.
Too many writers spend inordinate amounts of time on their openings, their hooks and so on. They go to “first page critiques” sessions with other writers and bring their work to their local writers groups and keep polishing something that they might not even use in the end. Instead, it’s vital that we work through our stories, flesh them out, see where they lead, and then, once we know where they’re going, head back to the beginning and start them off aiming in that direction.
Whichever story you decide to develop first, let it inform your work on the other story—whether that involves making promises and foreshadowing (if you write the one that comes 3000 years before the other), or if it means fulfilling your promises (if you write the later story first).
Finally, I would suggest that you follow your passion. You might be more excited about one or the other. I’d go with that one. Let that give you momentum and fuel for the long hours of writing you will undoubtedly need.
You mention that the two stories are in the same story world; I’m not sure if that means they appear in the same novel, or if you’re talking about two separate books.
In either case, without being familiar with the context of your stories, it’s not possible to decide which one needs your more immediate attention. Remember that stories need escalation of conflict and tension, so, if one of the stories builds up to a more intense climax, that one should come last, chronologically. You always want to save the best for last, the plot must always thicken, never thin.
I’m not sure if Tolstoy actually said this, but there’s a story in writing circles that he once said, “The first thing they read is the last thing you write.” Here’s the point: You’ll only know how a story needs to begin when you know how it ends. If it ends with a person deciding to move from Cincinnati to LA, you know that, at the beginning, this has to be their struggle. So, when you get done, you would go back and recast the beginning so that it is tied in inextricably to the end of the story.
Too many writers spend inordinate amounts of time on their openings, their hooks and so on. They go to “first page critiques” sessions with other writers and bring their work to their local writers groups and keep polishing something that they might not even use in the end. Instead, it’s vital that we work through our stories, flesh them out, see where they lead, and then, once we know where they’re going, head back to the beginning and start them off aiming in that direction.
Whichever story you decide to develop first, let it inform your work on the other story—whether that involves making promises and foreshadowing (if you write the one that comes 3000 years before the other), or if it means fulfilling your promises (if you write the later story first).
Finally, I would suggest that you follow your passion. You might be more excited about one or the other. I’d go with that one. Let that give you momentum and fuel for the long hours of writing you will undoubtedly need.
I have two stories in the same story world, 3000 years apart. One is done and needs revising (chronologically first), and one has been rewritten several times but I plan to start from scratch this time (story is much more definable and developed). Would yo
Two issues pop to mind for me: openings and context.
You mention that the two stories are in the same story world; I’m not sure if that means they appear in the same novel, or if you’re talking about two separate books.
In either case, without being familiar with the context of your stories, it’s not possible to decide which one needs your more immediate attention. Remember that stories need escalation of conflict and tension, so, if one of the stories builds up to a more intense climax, that one should come last, chronologically. You always want to save the best for last, the plot must always thicken, never thin.
I’m not sure if Tolstoy actually said this, but there’s a story in writing circles that he once said, “The first thing they read is the last thing you write.” Here’s the point: You’ll only know how a story needs to begin when you know how it ends. If it ends with a person deciding to move from Cincinnati to LA, you know that, at the beginning, this has to be their struggle. So, when you get done, you would go back and recast the beginning so that it is tied in inextricably to the end of the story.
Too many writers spend inordinate amounts of time on their openings, their hooks and so on. They go to “first page critiques” sessions with other writers and bring their work to their local writers groups and keep polishing something that they might not even use in the end. Instead, it’s vital that we work through our stories, flesh them out, see where they lead, and then, once we know where they’re going, head back to the beginning and start them off aiming in that direction.
Whichever story you decide to develop first, let it inform your work on the other story—whether that involves making promises and foreshadowing (if you write the one that comes 3000 years before the other), or if it means fulfilling your promises (if you write the later story first).
Finally, I would suggest that you follow your passion. You might be more excited about one or the other. I’d go with that one. Let that give you momentum and fuel for the long hours of writing you will undoubtedly need.
You mention that the two stories are in the same story world; I’m not sure if that means they appear in the same novel, or if you’re talking about two separate books.
In either case, without being familiar with the context of your stories, it’s not possible to decide which one needs your more immediate attention. Remember that stories need escalation of conflict and tension, so, if one of the stories builds up to a more intense climax, that one should come last, chronologically. You always want to save the best for last, the plot must always thicken, never thin.
I’m not sure if Tolstoy actually said this, but there’s a story in writing circles that he once said, “The first thing they read is the last thing you write.” Here’s the point: You’ll only know how a story needs to begin when you know how it ends. If it ends with a person deciding to move from Cincinnati to LA, you know that, at the beginning, this has to be their struggle. So, when you get done, you would go back and recast the beginning so that it is tied in inextricably to the end of the story.
Too many writers spend inordinate amounts of time on their openings, their hooks and so on. They go to “first page critiques” sessions with other writers and bring their work to their local writers groups and keep polishing something that they might not even use in the end. Instead, it’s vital that we work through our stories, flesh them out, see where they lead, and then, once we know where they’re going, head back to the beginning and start them off aiming in that direction.
Whichever story you decide to develop first, let it inform your work on the other story—whether that involves making promises and foreshadowing (if you write the one that comes 3000 years before the other), or if it means fulfilling your promises (if you write the later story first).
Finally, I would suggest that you follow your passion. You might be more excited about one or the other. I’d go with that one. Let that give you momentum and fuel for the long hours of writing you will undoubtedly need.
I have two stories in the same story world, 3000 years apart. One is done and needs revising (chronologically first), and one has been rewritten several times but I plan to start from scratch this time (story is much more definable and developed). Would yo
Two issues pop to mind for me: openings and context.
You mention that the two stories are in the same story world; I’m not sure if that means they appear in the same novel, or if you’re talking about two separate books.
In either case, without being familiar with the context of your stories, it’s not possible to decide which one needs your more immediate attention. Remember that stories need escalation of conflict and tension, so, if one of the stories builds up to a more intense climax, that one should come last, chronologically. You always want to save the best for last, the plot must always thicken, never thin.
I’m not sure if Tolstoy actually said this, but there’s a story in writing circles that he once said, “The first thing they read is the last thing you write.” Here’s the point: You’ll only know how a story needs to begin when you know how it ends. If it ends with a person deciding to move from Cincinnati to LA, you know that, at the beginning, this has to be their struggle. So, when you get done, you would go back and recast the beginning so that it is tied in inextricably to the end of the story.
Too many writers spend inordinate amounts of time on their openings, their hooks and so on. They go to “first page critiques” sessions with other writers and bring their work to their local writers groups and keep polishing something that they might not even use in the end. Instead, it’s vital that we work through our stories, flesh them out, see where they lead, and then, once we know where they’re going, head back to the beginning and start them off aiming in that direction.
Whichever story you decide to develop first, let it inform your work on the other story—whether that involves making promises and foreshadowing (if you write the one that comes 3000 years before the other), or if it means fulfilling your promises (if you write the later story first).
Finally, I would suggest that you follow your passion. You might be more excited about one or the other. I’d go with that one. Let that give you momentum and fuel for the long hours of writing you will undoubtedly need.
You mention that the two stories are in the same story world; I’m not sure if that means they appear in the same novel, or if you’re talking about two separate books.
In either case, without being familiar with the context of your stories, it’s not possible to decide which one needs your more immediate attention. Remember that stories need escalation of conflict and tension, so, if one of the stories builds up to a more intense climax, that one should come last, chronologically. You always want to save the best for last, the plot must always thicken, never thin.
I’m not sure if Tolstoy actually said this, but there’s a story in writing circles that he once said, “The first thing they read is the last thing you write.” Here’s the point: You’ll only know how a story needs to begin when you know how it ends. If it ends with a person deciding to move from Cincinnati to LA, you know that, at the beginning, this has to be their struggle. So, when you get done, you would go back and recast the beginning so that it is tied in inextricably to the end of the story.
Too many writers spend inordinate amounts of time on their openings, their hooks and so on. They go to “first page critiques” sessions with other writers and bring their work to their local writers groups and keep polishing something that they might not even use in the end. Instead, it’s vital that we work through our stories, flesh them out, see where they lead, and then, once we know where they’re going, head back to the beginning and start them off aiming in that direction.
Whichever story you decide to develop first, let it inform your work on the other story—whether that involves making promises and foreshadowing (if you write the one that comes 3000 years before the other), or if it means fulfilling your promises (if you write the later story first).
Finally, I would suggest that you follow your passion. You might be more excited about one or the other. I’d go with that one. Let that give you momentum and fuel for the long hours of writing you will undoubtedly need.
I have two stories in the same story world, 3000 years apart. One is done and needs revising (chronologically first), and one has been rewritten several times but I plan to start from scratch this time (story is much more definable and developed). Would yo
Two issues pop to mind for me: openings and context.
You mention that the two stories are in the same story world; I’m not sure if that means they appear in the same novel, or if you’re talking about two separate books.
In either case, without being familiar with the context of your stories, it’s not possible to decide which one needs your more immediate attention. Remember that stories need escalation of conflict and tension, so, if one of the stories builds up to a more intense climax, that one should come last, chronologically. You always want to save the best for last, the plot must always thicken, never thin.
I’m not sure if Tolstoy actually said this, but there’s a story in writing circles that he once said, “The first thing they read is the last thing you write.” Here’s the point: You’ll only know how a story needs to begin when you know how it ends. If it ends with a person deciding to move from Cincinnati to LA, you know that, at the beginning, this has to be their struggle. So, when you get done, you would go back and recast the beginning so that it is tied in inextricably to the end of the story.
Too many writers spend inordinate amounts of time on their openings, their hooks and so on. They go to “first page critiques” sessions with other writers and bring their work to their local writers groups and keep polishing something that they might not even use in the end. Instead, it’s vital that we work through our stories, flesh them out, see where they lead, and then, once we know where they’re going, head back to the beginning and start them off aiming in that direction.
Whichever story you decide to develop first, let it inform your work on the other story—whether that involves making promises and foreshadowing (if you write the one that comes 3000 years before the other), or if it means fulfilling your promises (if you write the later story first).
Finally, I would suggest that you follow your passion. You might be more excited about one or the other. I’d go with that one. Let that give you momentum and fuel for the long hours of writing you will undoubtedly need.
You mention that the two stories are in the same story world; I’m not sure if that means they appear in the same novel, or if you’re talking about two separate books.
In either case, without being familiar with the context of your stories, it’s not possible to decide which one needs your more immediate attention. Remember that stories need escalation of conflict and tension, so, if one of the stories builds up to a more intense climax, that one should come last, chronologically. You always want to save the best for last, the plot must always thicken, never thin.
I’m not sure if Tolstoy actually said this, but there’s a story in writing circles that he once said, “The first thing they read is the last thing you write.” Here’s the point: You’ll only know how a story needs to begin when you know how it ends. If it ends with a person deciding to move from Cincinnati to LA, you know that, at the beginning, this has to be their struggle. So, when you get done, you would go back and recast the beginning so that it is tied in inextricably to the end of the story.
Too many writers spend inordinate amounts of time on their openings, their hooks and so on. They go to “first page critiques” sessions with other writers and bring their work to their local writers groups and keep polishing something that they might not even use in the end. Instead, it’s vital that we work through our stories, flesh them out, see where they lead, and then, once we know where they’re going, head back to the beginning and start them off aiming in that direction.
Whichever story you decide to develop first, let it inform your work on the other story—whether that involves making promises and foreshadowing (if you write the one that comes 3000 years before the other), or if it means fulfilling your promises (if you write the later story first).
Finally, I would suggest that you follow your passion. You might be more excited about one or the other. I’d go with that one. Let that give you momentum and fuel for the long hours of writing you will undoubtedly need.
I have two stories in the same story world, 3000 years apart. One is done and needs revising (chronologically first), and one has been rewritten several times but I plan to start from scratch this time (story is much more definable and developed). Would yo
Two issues pop to mind for me: openings and context.
You mention that the two stories are in the same story world; I’m not sure if that means they appear in the same novel, or if you’re talking about two separate books.
In either case, without being familiar with the context of your stories, it’s not possible to decide which one needs your more immediate attention. Remember that stories need escalation of conflict and tension, so, if one of the stories builds up to a more intense climax, that one should come last, chronologically. You always want to save the best for last, the plot must always thicken, never thin.
I’m not sure if Tolstoy actually said this, but there’s a story in writing circles that he once said, “The first thing they read is the last thing you write.” Here’s the point: You’ll only know how a story needs to begin when you know how it ends. If it ends with a person deciding to move from Cincinnati to LA, you know that, at the beginning, this has to be their struggle. So, when you get done, you would go back and recast the beginning so that it is tied in inextricably to the end of the story.
Too many writers spend inordinate amounts of time on their openings, their hooks and so on. They go to “first page critiques” sessions with other writers and bring their work to their local writers groups and keep polishing something that they might not even use in the end. Instead, it’s vital that we work through our stories, flesh them out, see where they lead, and then, once we know where they’re going, head back to the beginning and start them off aiming in that direction.
Whichever story you decide to develop first, let it inform your work on the other story—whether that involves making promises and foreshadowing (if you write the one that comes 3000 years before the other), or if it means fulfilling your promises (if you write the later story first).
Finally, I would suggest that you follow your passion. You might be more excited about one or the other. I’d go with that one. Let that give you momentum and fuel for the long hours of writing you will undoubtedly need.
You mention that the two stories are in the same story world; I’m not sure if that means they appear in the same novel, or if you’re talking about two separate books.
In either case, without being familiar with the context of your stories, it’s not possible to decide which one needs your more immediate attention. Remember that stories need escalation of conflict and tension, so, if one of the stories builds up to a more intense climax, that one should come last, chronologically. You always want to save the best for last, the plot must always thicken, never thin.
I’m not sure if Tolstoy actually said this, but there’s a story in writing circles that he once said, “The first thing they read is the last thing you write.” Here’s the point: You’ll only know how a story needs to begin when you know how it ends. If it ends with a person deciding to move from Cincinnati to LA, you know that, at the beginning, this has to be their struggle. So, when you get done, you would go back and recast the beginning so that it is tied in inextricably to the end of the story.
Too many writers spend inordinate amounts of time on their openings, their hooks and so on. They go to “first page critiques” sessions with other writers and bring their work to their local writers groups and keep polishing something that they might not even use in the end. Instead, it’s vital that we work through our stories, flesh them out, see where they lead, and then, once we know where they’re going, head back to the beginning and start them off aiming in that direction.
Whichever story you decide to develop first, let it inform your work on the other story—whether that involves making promises and foreshadowing (if you write the one that comes 3000 years before the other), or if it means fulfilling your promises (if you write the later story first).
Finally, I would suggest that you follow your passion. You might be more excited about one or the other. I’d go with that one. Let that give you momentum and fuel for the long hours of writing you will undoubtedly need.
I have two stories in the same story world, 3000 years apart. One is done and needs revising (chronologically first), and one has been rewritten several times but I plan to start from scratch this time (story is much more definable and developed). Would yo
Two issues pop to mind for me: openings and context.
You mention that the two stories are in the same story world; I’m not sure if that means they appear in the same novel, or if you’re talking about two separate books.
In either case, without being familiar with the context of your stories, it’s not possible to decide which one needs your more immediate attention. Remember that stories need escalation of conflict and tension, so, if one of the stories builds up to a more intense climax, that one should come last, chronologically. You always want to save the best for last, the plot must always thicken, never thin.
I’m not sure if Tolstoy actually said this, but there’s a story in writing circles that he once said, “The first thing they read is the last thing you write.” Here’s the point: You’ll only know how a story needs to begin when you know how it ends. If it ends with a person deciding to move from Cincinnati to LA, you know that, at the beginning, this has to be their struggle. So, when you get done, you would go back and recast the beginning so that it is tied in inextricably to the end of the story.
Too many writers spend inordinate amounts of time on their openings, their hooks and so on. They go to “first page critiques” sessions with other writers and bring their work to their local writers groups and keep polishing something that they might not even use in the end. Instead, it’s vital that we work through our stories, flesh them out, see where they lead, and then, once we know where they’re going, head back to the beginning and start them off aiming in that direction.
Whichever story you decide to develop first, let it inform your work on the other story—whether that involves making promises and foreshadowing (if you write the one that comes 3000 years before the other), or if it means fulfilling your promises (if you write the later story first).
Finally, I would suggest that you follow your passion. You might be more excited about one or the other. I’d go with that one. Let that give you momentum and fuel for the long hours of writing you will undoubtedly need.
You mention that the two stories are in the same story world; I’m not sure if that means they appear in the same novel, or if you’re talking about two separate books.
In either case, without being familiar with the context of your stories, it’s not possible to decide which one needs your more immediate attention. Remember that stories need escalation of conflict and tension, so, if one of the stories builds up to a more intense climax, that one should come last, chronologically. You always want to save the best for last, the plot must always thicken, never thin.
I’m not sure if Tolstoy actually said this, but there’s a story in writing circles that he once said, “The first thing they read is the last thing you write.” Here’s the point: You’ll only know how a story needs to begin when you know how it ends. If it ends with a person deciding to move from Cincinnati to LA, you know that, at the beginning, this has to be their struggle. So, when you get done, you would go back and recast the beginning so that it is tied in inextricably to the end of the story.
Too many writers spend inordinate amounts of time on their openings, their hooks and so on. They go to “first page critiques” sessions with other writers and bring their work to their local writers groups and keep polishing something that they might not even use in the end. Instead, it’s vital that we work through our stories, flesh them out, see where they lead, and then, once we know where they’re going, head back to the beginning and start them off aiming in that direction.
Whichever story you decide to develop first, let it inform your work on the other story—whether that involves making promises and foreshadowing (if you write the one that comes 3000 years before the other), or if it means fulfilling your promises (if you write the later story first).
Finally, I would suggest that you follow your passion. You might be more excited about one or the other. I’d go with that one. Let that give you momentum and fuel for the long hours of writing you will undoubtedly need.
February 21, 2013
Novel Writing Intensive Retreat 2013
Many people ask me what to do after they’ve finished a manuscript and think it’s at a point where they can’t improve it any more, but know it’s not quite ready to send to an agent or acquisitions editor. If that’s you, the Novel Writing Intensive Retreat in October might be just what you need. This will be my third time leading this retreat, but this year I’ll be teaching with nationally-known writing instructor and accomplished novelist Robert Dugoni. In addition to detailed individualized manuscript critiques, during the four day intensive, you’ll receive 8 hours of classroom instruction, 10 hours of interactive small group instruction, an extensive handbook on writing, a 100-point novel writing checklist, all meals, lodging, and much more. Visit the website to find out the details and specifics. This event is first-come, first-served, and because of the individual attention, we can only accept ten attendees. I hope to see you there.
January 30, 2013
Since you don't outline, how thoroughly do you plan out your characters and story before you begin the first draft? Do you do much more than superficially edit as you go?
I get a lot of questions about outlining and organic writing. I’m not sure why people are taught to outline as if it is the right way or the only way to write. It’s such an unnatural approach to the creative that I really don’t understand how or why people go that route.
So, to address these two specific questions, I don’t plan out my characters very thoroughly at all. Instead, I put them in interesting situations and see how they respond. Sometimes they’ll surprise me in how they act or demand a bigger part in the story, so I try to be honest and let them be.
This approach is similar to the way that JRR Tolkien wrote. As he noted one time, "A new character has come on the scene (I am sure I did not invent him, I did not even want him, but there he came walking through the woods of Ithilien): Faramir, the brother of Boromir."
Tessa did this to me in The Pawn. At first she was a rather one-dimensional snide teen girl, but the more I wrote about her, the more interesting she became. By the time I started working on The Rook, she had vied for a bigger part in the story and I had to give it to her.
The key is responding to the story as it unfolds, being honest, keeping it believable, letting the characters act and develop naturally, and go where the thread of the story takes you.
As far as the second question about editing, I continually revise and edit as I go along. Typically I will print out several chapters that I’ve been working on, as well as the new ones I’m writing, and read them through to start my day. I will edit them, rewrite them and tweak them as the broader context of the story becomes clearer.
So, allow your characters the opportunity to flex and adapt and grow, adding quirks and inconsistencies, pushing them to the limit to see how they respond, and then letting the story shape them even while they shape the direction of the story.
So, to address these two specific questions, I don’t plan out my characters very thoroughly at all. Instead, I put them in interesting situations and see how they respond. Sometimes they’ll surprise me in how they act or demand a bigger part in the story, so I try to be honest and let them be.
This approach is similar to the way that JRR Tolkien wrote. As he noted one time, "A new character has come on the scene (I am sure I did not invent him, I did not even want him, but there he came walking through the woods of Ithilien): Faramir, the brother of Boromir."
Tessa did this to me in The Pawn. At first she was a rather one-dimensional snide teen girl, but the more I wrote about her, the more interesting she became. By the time I started working on The Rook, she had vied for a bigger part in the story and I had to give it to her.
The key is responding to the story as it unfolds, being honest, keeping it believable, letting the characters act and develop naturally, and go where the thread of the story takes you.
As far as the second question about editing, I continually revise and edit as I go along. Typically I will print out several chapters that I’ve been working on, as well as the new ones I’m writing, and read them through to start my day. I will edit them, rewrite them and tweak them as the broader context of the story becomes clearer.
So, allow your characters the opportunity to flex and adapt and grow, adding quirks and inconsistencies, pushing them to the limit to see how they respond, and then letting the story shape them even while they shape the direction of the story.
January 20, 2013
When you were first starting out, did you ever have any self-doubt in your writing ability? If you did, how did you deal with it?
I’m not sure if the self-doubts that have lurked around the edges of my consciousness since the very beginning of my career will ever fully disappear. Despite how many books I write, I still approach every project with a trembling hand.
Will it be any good?
Will people like it?
Will I ever actually finish it?
Will it be better than the last one?
Over the years I’ve written more than three dozen books and hundreds of articles, but still I don’t have the confidence in my ability that you’d think would come naturally at this point.
Maybe that’s encouraging to aspiring writers, and maybe it’s disheartening. Depends on how you look at it—on the one hand, the apprehension might never go away, but on the other hand, you won’t be alone in feeling that way.
However, there’s a paradox to all of this. Intermingled in with all that hesitancy there has to be a certain sense of confidence in the process, or we wouldn’t know where to begin each day. And also, there has to be a certain degree of ego.
After all, every writing project is in a certain sense an exercise in egotism. When I write a novel that will take someone ten hours to read, and I encourage that person to buy it, I’m basically telling her that there’s no better way for her to spend ten hours of her all-too-short time on this planet than reading my story. If there was something better, I wouldn’t feel right trying to get her to read my story than to do that other thing.
If that’s not egotism, I’m not sure what is.
The truth is, if you like long hours in solitude, emotional turmoil, constant self-criticism and bouts of heart-wrenching disappointment, you’ll make a good writer. And if you can actually tell an engaging story, you might just make a great one.
Will it be any good?
Will people like it?
Will I ever actually finish it?
Will it be better than the last one?
Over the years I’ve written more than three dozen books and hundreds of articles, but still I don’t have the confidence in my ability that you’d think would come naturally at this point.
Maybe that’s encouraging to aspiring writers, and maybe it’s disheartening. Depends on how you look at it—on the one hand, the apprehension might never go away, but on the other hand, you won’t be alone in feeling that way.
However, there’s a paradox to all of this. Intermingled in with all that hesitancy there has to be a certain sense of confidence in the process, or we wouldn’t know where to begin each day. And also, there has to be a certain degree of ego.
After all, every writing project is in a certain sense an exercise in egotism. When I write a novel that will take someone ten hours to read, and I encourage that person to buy it, I’m basically telling her that there’s no better way for her to spend ten hours of her all-too-short time on this planet than reading my story. If there was something better, I wouldn’t feel right trying to get her to read my story than to do that other thing.
If that’s not egotism, I’m not sure what is.
The truth is, if you like long hours in solitude, emotional turmoil, constant self-criticism and bouts of heart-wrenching disappointment, you’ll make a good writer. And if you can actually tell an engaging story, you might just make a great one.
