James Devo's Blog - Posts Tagged "writing"
Writing in public
I am not a fan.
I am not a fan of people with their mac books (it has to be a mac book) WRITING in coffee shops. Why? Do they not have Katie Melua CDs of their own? Are they incapable of making coffee?
"Oh, I do it for the free wifi."
Really? REALLY?! You can afford a mac book but you can't afford wifi? And why do you need wifi? Buy a thesaurus in book form, lightweight!
Worst place in London for it - the Soho Theatre. It drips with Performance Writers tapping away on Final Draft, hoping Kathleen Kennedy will come in and say, "Hey, nice formatting. What's it about? GREAT idea!"
I've read quite a few writer interviews and writer biogs and do you know how many got discovered in coffee shops? ...yes you do.
Ok. JK Rowling wrote in a coffee shop. Because she had a cold flat. And she wrote in a note pad. I don't consider it Performance Writing to write in a note pad. I'd rather look like an obsessive diarist than a Performance Writer. And she's JK Rowling. She's nice.
So yeah, saying all that, if you have the bug to write, write. Doesn't matter where. If you have to stoop to Performance Writing, so be it.
And why have I considered this now?
Because of Goodreads. I used to watch TV on the bus to and from work - the number 63, Peckham to Clerkenwell, about an hour long, thanks for asking.
I'd watch a Star Trek DS9 or Cheers - no nudity or violence and I didn't care if I had to turn it off because the bus had hit a cyclist or a drunk decided to urinate into his beer can next to me.
Then I started doing review pools in Goodreads - You read mine, I'll read someone else's and review it, they'll read yours - you know the drill.
Then I realised the number 63 was perfect for writing.
Sure, it gets a bit bumpy around the Old Kent Road, but if you turn up your iPod (Miklos Rosza - Epic Cinema Greats - natch) you won't hear the 14 phone calls going on around you, or the couple hissing at each other about each other's parents or whatever. But I've found a way to ensure I write 2 hours a day - that doesn't involve getting up at 4am or writing naked in the kitchen at 2am drunk (These are the only other options open to me).
So yeah, I may have become a Performance Writer after all. But like them, I'm getting my work done. So if you write, do it where and when you can. That's my suggestion.
(Just don't do it on a mac book, you fool.)
I am not a fan of people with their mac books (it has to be a mac book) WRITING in coffee shops. Why? Do they not have Katie Melua CDs of their own? Are they incapable of making coffee?
"Oh, I do it for the free wifi."
Really? REALLY?! You can afford a mac book but you can't afford wifi? And why do you need wifi? Buy a thesaurus in book form, lightweight!
Worst place in London for it - the Soho Theatre. It drips with Performance Writers tapping away on Final Draft, hoping Kathleen Kennedy will come in and say, "Hey, nice formatting. What's it about? GREAT idea!"
I've read quite a few writer interviews and writer biogs and do you know how many got discovered in coffee shops? ...yes you do.
Ok. JK Rowling wrote in a coffee shop. Because she had a cold flat. And she wrote in a note pad. I don't consider it Performance Writing to write in a note pad. I'd rather look like an obsessive diarist than a Performance Writer. And she's JK Rowling. She's nice.
So yeah, saying all that, if you have the bug to write, write. Doesn't matter where. If you have to stoop to Performance Writing, so be it.
And why have I considered this now?
Because of Goodreads. I used to watch TV on the bus to and from work - the number 63, Peckham to Clerkenwell, about an hour long, thanks for asking.
I'd watch a Star Trek DS9 or Cheers - no nudity or violence and I didn't care if I had to turn it off because the bus had hit a cyclist or a drunk decided to urinate into his beer can next to me.
Then I started doing review pools in Goodreads - You read mine, I'll read someone else's and review it, they'll read yours - you know the drill.
Then I realised the number 63 was perfect for writing.
Sure, it gets a bit bumpy around the Old Kent Road, but if you turn up your iPod (Miklos Rosza - Epic Cinema Greats - natch) you won't hear the 14 phone calls going on around you, or the couple hissing at each other about each other's parents or whatever. But I've found a way to ensure I write 2 hours a day - that doesn't involve getting up at 4am or writing naked in the kitchen at 2am drunk (These are the only other options open to me).
So yeah, I may have become a Performance Writer after all. But like them, I'm getting my work done. So if you write, do it where and when you can. That's my suggestion.
(Just don't do it on a mac book, you fool.)
Longterm or a Dirty Weekend?
It may be obvious but the act of writing a story is like having a relationship.
It starts off and you're excited and you don't know if it's really going anywhere. You come across idiosyncrasies and little foibles you obsess about that may not be worth considering in the big picture. You miss big problems as you try to work out what's going on and build something special.
Obviously you're not desperate to plough through to the end and you don't get a second draft BUT... ...if you write, you might know I mean.
Short stories (and short films) feel like one night stands or dirty weekends away, little bursts of satisfaction.
I've got some stories that I've written for competitions, or sitcoms I've written or rewritten on commission, and they feel like going through the motions. Like I’ve been set up on a blind date by friends.
Then there are those tales that started off so strongly, effortless, the Best Thing Ever …and then trailed off.
The Wonder 1&2 (they were split in half by the publisher so still work as one in my mind) were written to save me from the outside world. Pregnant wife, contract work not paying on time, building work at home, mortgages, all the stuff that keeps one awake at night. The Wonder came along to help me sleep at night, grown from a long held acorn. It gave me something to run to. It was a port in a storm. A mixed metaphor offering support.
It was like a relationship with an old friend I'd always fancied. We worked well together and it lasted a long time.
I'm halfway through the latest installment, and it's a different beast. Now that people have enjoyed the other books, (and the publisher has said, longer series sell better) I've returned to the world a different man, a different writer.
It's like friends have said, "You two go really well together."
I’ve written other work since finishing 1&2, finally finding my voice completely in my screenwriting. Bringing that experience to The Wonder is like saying to an ex, “I’ve changed. We’ve both grown up. Let’s give it another try.”
The first visit to the Wonder was about world building and finding characters with whom I was willing to spend time with.
It was about fun.
There were parts that were awkward and difficult (the following is not really spoilery, I hope) – the beginning of the journey beneath the Lodge, Spicer’s whole character arc, where the heck everyone was off to after they escaped the place with the thing
(oh, it’s harder to avoid spoilers that I thought).
There were parts that I had really looked forward to, that were like the best holidays ever with a partner – the battle of Maisy, written in one long weekend with a bottle of wine in darkness. Kind of everything I became a writer for. And also a favourite with many readers.
There were parts I expected would go one way and they went off elsewhere – (non-spoiler version) the bit on the thing where the people meet the other people and don’t do what you think they’d do – which added a lot more depth to the story and the characters than I’d expected.
Like one of those soul-searching weekends away with a partner where it rained all the time and you had a bad back so the sort of fun you were expecting turned into a different type of fun where you talked and talked all night and watched the sun come up…
This new relationship I’m having with my ex is different.
The action is happening in three different places, and I start to really get into something, start building the world and then realise I need to save stuff for later. As this is probably the last book with these characters, I need to answer some questions, and finding the point to answer those questions is really difficult…
I’ve plotted it out to an extent, but finding the rhythm of the characters and each scene, working out the time to cut away, how much to leave the reader wanting, that only comes with the first draft (I write in long hand on the bus, as mentioned previously, and then tidy up as I type it up – I like to call it the ‘free’ second draft – which is where I make those decisions on where to cut away).
There are two points where I’ve cut away from where I’ve got to in the first draft. You know, I’m writing merrily away, really enjoying what’s going on, and then take a step back and realise that now the characters know what they have to do, so it’s time to cut away. A cliffhanger if you will.
The first point is building a picture of the Capital, a city we’ve heard about for 500 pages but never visited. I put together a whole carriage journey through it that was pure joy to write, but is now sitting patiently in my notebook, an unused itinerary.
It’s like realised your partner always wanted to visit Pompeii but waiting until that big project at work has finished to give them a reward. I’ve bought them the guidebook but am yet to book the tickets…
The second point I hit this morning. I finally managed to clearly convey the history of things that have had direct effect on all the characters and the whole world. It all slotted into place, better than I’d ever considered before, after much re-reading of the first books to tie it up neatly. I’ve also now got a reason for the characters to gain that knowledge – before there was no way for them to discover this ancient history, but I’ve unblocked that with characters I’ve kept in reserve just for that purpose.
But is the mid-point the best place to reveal the truth about The Gramarye? I think not, so I need to carefully work out what to share and what to tease. I need to share enough to add to the peril my characters are in, but not so much that we now know all the background and it’s just a question of seeing the main players… play out.
At this late stage in the whole story arc, the beginning of act three I guess, it’s like I’m working out when I need to get down on one knee and propose.
Which is a nice place to stop talking, probably
It starts off and you're excited and you don't know if it's really going anywhere. You come across idiosyncrasies and little foibles you obsess about that may not be worth considering in the big picture. You miss big problems as you try to work out what's going on and build something special.
Obviously you're not desperate to plough through to the end and you don't get a second draft BUT... ...if you write, you might know I mean.
Short stories (and short films) feel like one night stands or dirty weekends away, little bursts of satisfaction.
I've got some stories that I've written for competitions, or sitcoms I've written or rewritten on commission, and they feel like going through the motions. Like I’ve been set up on a blind date by friends.
Then there are those tales that started off so strongly, effortless, the Best Thing Ever …and then trailed off.
The Wonder 1&2 (they were split in half by the publisher so still work as one in my mind) were written to save me from the outside world. Pregnant wife, contract work not paying on time, building work at home, mortgages, all the stuff that keeps one awake at night. The Wonder came along to help me sleep at night, grown from a long held acorn. It gave me something to run to. It was a port in a storm. A mixed metaphor offering support.
It was like a relationship with an old friend I'd always fancied. We worked well together and it lasted a long time.
I'm halfway through the latest installment, and it's a different beast. Now that people have enjoyed the other books, (and the publisher has said, longer series sell better) I've returned to the world a different man, a different writer.
It's like friends have said, "You two go really well together."
I’ve written other work since finishing 1&2, finally finding my voice completely in my screenwriting. Bringing that experience to The Wonder is like saying to an ex, “I’ve changed. We’ve both grown up. Let’s give it another try.”
The first visit to the Wonder was about world building and finding characters with whom I was willing to spend time with.
It was about fun.
There were parts that were awkward and difficult (the following is not really spoilery, I hope) – the beginning of the journey beneath the Lodge, Spicer’s whole character arc, where the heck everyone was off to after they escaped the place with the thing
(oh, it’s harder to avoid spoilers that I thought).
There were parts that I had really looked forward to, that were like the best holidays ever with a partner – the battle of Maisy, written in one long weekend with a bottle of wine in darkness. Kind of everything I became a writer for. And also a favourite with many readers.
There were parts I expected would go one way and they went off elsewhere – (non-spoiler version) the bit on the thing where the people meet the other people and don’t do what you think they’d do – which added a lot more depth to the story and the characters than I’d expected.
Like one of those soul-searching weekends away with a partner where it rained all the time and you had a bad back so the sort of fun you were expecting turned into a different type of fun where you talked and talked all night and watched the sun come up…
This new relationship I’m having with my ex is different.
The action is happening in three different places, and I start to really get into something, start building the world and then realise I need to save stuff for later. As this is probably the last book with these characters, I need to answer some questions, and finding the point to answer those questions is really difficult…
I’ve plotted it out to an extent, but finding the rhythm of the characters and each scene, working out the time to cut away, how much to leave the reader wanting, that only comes with the first draft (I write in long hand on the bus, as mentioned previously, and then tidy up as I type it up – I like to call it the ‘free’ second draft – which is where I make those decisions on where to cut away).
There are two points where I’ve cut away from where I’ve got to in the first draft. You know, I’m writing merrily away, really enjoying what’s going on, and then take a step back and realise that now the characters know what they have to do, so it’s time to cut away. A cliffhanger if you will.
The first point is building a picture of the Capital, a city we’ve heard about for 500 pages but never visited. I put together a whole carriage journey through it that was pure joy to write, but is now sitting patiently in my notebook, an unused itinerary.
It’s like realised your partner always wanted to visit Pompeii but waiting until that big project at work has finished to give them a reward. I’ve bought them the guidebook but am yet to book the tickets…
The second point I hit this morning. I finally managed to clearly convey the history of things that have had direct effect on all the characters and the whole world. It all slotted into place, better than I’d ever considered before, after much re-reading of the first books to tie it up neatly. I’ve also now got a reason for the characters to gain that knowledge – before there was no way for them to discover this ancient history, but I’ve unblocked that with characters I’ve kept in reserve just for that purpose.
But is the mid-point the best place to reveal the truth about The Gramarye? I think not, so I need to carefully work out what to share and what to tease. I need to share enough to add to the peril my characters are in, but not so much that we now know all the background and it’s just a question of seeing the main players… play out.
At this late stage in the whole story arc, the beginning of act three I guess, it’s like I’m working out when I need to get down on one knee and propose.
Which is a nice place to stop talking, probably
