A.M. Jenkins's Blog, page 12
May 29, 2011
Yesterday, when my head shut down re. other people's w0rk...
Yesterday, when my head shut down re. other people's w0rk, I pulled up my WIP and freewrote some stuff that'll either go somewhere in the middle, or inform something that goes in the middle. Ended up with about 500 words or so. Then I went to bed.
Now my head has shut down re other people's stuff for today, so even though I have absolutely nothing in mind to write about, I'm going to pull up the WIP and write something anyhow. Then go to bed.
Now my head has shut down re other people's stuff for today, so even though I have absolutely nothing in mind to write about, I'm going to pull up the WIP and write something anyhow. Then go to bed.
May 27, 2011
Note to self: READ THIS BEFORE YOU START WORKING AGAIN
I didn't get to work on my own stuff the next week, after all. I need to stop even saying that.
Late last night, however, I set aside everything on my backed-up agenda* and wrote a couple of paragraphs, just for me. My long-term concentration is kind of shot right now, and there's no time to work myself into the flow of story anyway, so I just zeroed in on one emotion-laden action that takes place near the end of the book. I messed around with the words and structure, thinking the action through from various angles: what the MC is doing, what he sees, what he feels, what the reader needs to know. I ended up with a disturbing little pair of paragraphs that may not actually fit the ms or the character's journey.
It's interesting, though. This action--or rather, the character's realization of his action--is a key turning point that allows him to make his choice at the end. Only right now I don't see how it might do that, which is why I'm wondering if it even fits. It's possible that I need to rethink the entire sequence of events in the last quarter of the book (all of which exist only in my head right now)--or even the events themselves. Maybe the ending I'm heading toward is wrong? It's all part of the puzzle, and I'm looking forward to having a chance to figure it out.
Some of the puzzle's answers may lie in my separating the MC's inner and outer goals in my head. I need to think them all through individually--what they mean, what kinds of things might happen at the end to show whether a goal has been achieved, and if not, why that's okay. But I also need to be careful, because I can tell it's going to be very easy to focus on some aspect of the MC that's slightly beside the point, and if I do that it'll mess up the whole book. It's easy to ask yourself a question and think along the surface to arrive at an answer that makes complete sense, but isn't really the key emotional truth of the situation.
For example, I know that my MC wants to keep his "family" alive. At a glance, I could check that off (and I occasionally have) as a inner goal because it's about his feelings and desires. At a glance, his outer goal would seem to be about getting rid of a dangerous weapon and the people who threaten him. But this is all shallow thinking and not helpful to figuring out the story structure.
Actually, I need to stop thinking in limiting terms like inner goal and outer goal. A novel is more complex than that. When writer friends who read the first 50 pages noted that their goal for the MC was that he be relieved of some of his mental/emotional burdens, I immediately remembered: that's what I want for him, too.
Some of the things I'd like my MC to be able to do by the end:
not hold himself so utterly responsible for everyone else's welfareaccept that he's doing the best he can in a bad situationgive himself credit for having good intentions; most people don't, as he knows
All of these tie into what's compelling me to write this ms: exploring the idea of mercy/empathy. I've been struggling a little with whether this guy admits to himself that he thinks mercy is positive quality. He clearly instinctively feels that it's good to have. I just haven't been sure whether he acknowledges this to himself, and if he does, how much.**
Other things I need to think about:
When he goes back to his home in the very last scene, how is he different?In the final quarter of the book, how do events drive him to make the three changes above?
Something has to happen in the climactic scene to force him to a knife-edge decision. That decision is the final dividing point between not-changed and changed.
How do conversations and interactions in the book's middle increase the harshness with which he views himself?
How do conversations and interactions in the book's middle allow him to relax the harshness for a few moments?How do all of these conversations and interactions add up to mean something to him at the crucial moment of choice?What are his choices?
What happens at the climax that forces him to choose?***How do the events leading up to the climax (see "disturbing paragraphs," above) throw his options into sudden stark relief?
Do the events leading up to the climax even fit? Do they need to be rethought, strung out earlier in the book, or cut completely?
Hmm, now I'm looking at that last point from the first list. Give himself credit for having good intentions. Why would he think that good intentions mean anything? He certainly has no reason to think they're of value. He'd have to come around to even considering that good intentions alone merit credit.
So...hmm, hmm. This speaks to the middle of the book (if it speaks to anything at all; it could just be a distracting detour). He'd have to see something that causes him to value good intentions. No, not just good intentions--good intentions devoid of practical payoff.
Triple hmm...and who is tailor-made to have a ton of good intentions with zero practical payoff? The inciting-incident of a character who made his appearance in the first line of the book, that's who. And who is also one of the three guys at the climactic confrontation.
The MC is the only one who can relieve himself of his mental/emotional burdens. He's surrounded himself with people who would willingly help him carry the weight. He hasn't purposely selected these people; the fact that they're with him now is a byproduct of his occasionally acting against practical benefit, but with good intentions.
The MC understands none of this when the book starts.
The new character is also tailor-made to cause the MC to unwittingly start shifting some of his (the MC's) worries away. The MC would be lessening the weight he carries just by talking about the decisions he has to make and the reasons he makes them.
Would the MC talk about any of this out loud? Yes, because the new guy is from a different culture; the MC would be explaining stuff and the guy would be asking lots of questions as well. I doubt the MC would even notice he was lessening his mental burdens by explaining stuff to the new guy.
Or...not until the big hassle with the messed-up love triangle and its misunderstandings. Then the MC would notice what he'd been doing, and that he'd come to rely on sharing some of his inner workings--because suddenly he couldn't, not anymore. Quadruple hmm. I've been wondering why the MC wouldn't just secretly kill the guy, post-messed-up-love-triangle, then hide his body in the woods and tell everybody he ran away. This may be why. I also knew my MC liked the new guy, but I couldn't quite verbalize the whys and wherefores thereof. Now I think I'm starting to get it.
This all seems promising, like it may very well be productive thinking, and therefore important to remember. However, I know I won't. (see "long-term concentration, lack of," above) By the time I'm able to pick up my ms again, I may not even remember that I need to look at this post. Perhaps a big ugly blog title will help.
*If you're reading this and you're waiting for something from me, sorry. I'm finding that if I try be a machine 24/7, what happens is that I work slower...and slower...and slower...and feel worse and worse and worse about it. Recent events compel me to cut myself some slack and quit trying to be a machine. Life is too short.
**The distinction is important, because if he doesn't acknowledge it to himself, the plot needs to drive him to learn it. Something needs to happen to open his eyes and make him decide, "I'm going to accept that this is how I feel, and quit berating myself for the few times I've gone 'soft.'" After he faces the fact that he values mercy/empathy even though they're pointless/dangerous, he needs to act on this self-knowledge at some point--and that tells me more about what happens in the plot. Whereas if he already knows he values mercy/empathy, most of the plot input probably comes from his figuring out how much weight he's going to give it as the stakes rise and change.
***I've got three guys at cross purposes in a high-stakes confrontation, and a gun with one bullet. I know something happens. I'm just not sure what, exactly.
Late last night, however, I set aside everything on my backed-up agenda* and wrote a couple of paragraphs, just for me. My long-term concentration is kind of shot right now, and there's no time to work myself into the flow of story anyway, so I just zeroed in on one emotion-laden action that takes place near the end of the book. I messed around with the words and structure, thinking the action through from various angles: what the MC is doing, what he sees, what he feels, what the reader needs to know. I ended up with a disturbing little pair of paragraphs that may not actually fit the ms or the character's journey.
It's interesting, though. This action--or rather, the character's realization of his action--is a key turning point that allows him to make his choice at the end. Only right now I don't see how it might do that, which is why I'm wondering if it even fits. It's possible that I need to rethink the entire sequence of events in the last quarter of the book (all of which exist only in my head right now)--or even the events themselves. Maybe the ending I'm heading toward is wrong? It's all part of the puzzle, and I'm looking forward to having a chance to figure it out.
Some of the puzzle's answers may lie in my separating the MC's inner and outer goals in my head. I need to think them all through individually--what they mean, what kinds of things might happen at the end to show whether a goal has been achieved, and if not, why that's okay. But I also need to be careful, because I can tell it's going to be very easy to focus on some aspect of the MC that's slightly beside the point, and if I do that it'll mess up the whole book. It's easy to ask yourself a question and think along the surface to arrive at an answer that makes complete sense, but isn't really the key emotional truth of the situation.
For example, I know that my MC wants to keep his "family" alive. At a glance, I could check that off (and I occasionally have) as a inner goal because it's about his feelings and desires. At a glance, his outer goal would seem to be about getting rid of a dangerous weapon and the people who threaten him. But this is all shallow thinking and not helpful to figuring out the story structure.
Actually, I need to stop thinking in limiting terms like inner goal and outer goal. A novel is more complex than that. When writer friends who read the first 50 pages noted that their goal for the MC was that he be relieved of some of his mental/emotional burdens, I immediately remembered: that's what I want for him, too.
Some of the things I'd like my MC to be able to do by the end:
not hold himself so utterly responsible for everyone else's welfareaccept that he's doing the best he can in a bad situationgive himself credit for having good intentions; most people don't, as he knows
All of these tie into what's compelling me to write this ms: exploring the idea of mercy/empathy. I've been struggling a little with whether this guy admits to himself that he thinks mercy is positive quality. He clearly instinctively feels that it's good to have. I just haven't been sure whether he acknowledges this to himself, and if he does, how much.**
Other things I need to think about:
When he goes back to his home in the very last scene, how is he different?In the final quarter of the book, how do events drive him to make the three changes above?
Something has to happen in the climactic scene to force him to a knife-edge decision. That decision is the final dividing point between not-changed and changed.
How do conversations and interactions in the book's middle increase the harshness with which he views himself?
How do conversations and interactions in the book's middle allow him to relax the harshness for a few moments?How do all of these conversations and interactions add up to mean something to him at the crucial moment of choice?What are his choices?
What happens at the climax that forces him to choose?***How do the events leading up to the climax (see "disturbing paragraphs," above) throw his options into sudden stark relief?
Do the events leading up to the climax even fit? Do they need to be rethought, strung out earlier in the book, or cut completely?
Hmm, now I'm looking at that last point from the first list. Give himself credit for having good intentions. Why would he think that good intentions mean anything? He certainly has no reason to think they're of value. He'd have to come around to even considering that good intentions alone merit credit.
So...hmm, hmm. This speaks to the middle of the book (if it speaks to anything at all; it could just be a distracting detour). He'd have to see something that causes him to value good intentions. No, not just good intentions--good intentions devoid of practical payoff.
Triple hmm...and who is tailor-made to have a ton of good intentions with zero practical payoff? The inciting-incident of a character who made his appearance in the first line of the book, that's who. And who is also one of the three guys at the climactic confrontation.
The MC is the only one who can relieve himself of his mental/emotional burdens. He's surrounded himself with people who would willingly help him carry the weight. He hasn't purposely selected these people; the fact that they're with him now is a byproduct of his occasionally acting against practical benefit, but with good intentions.
The MC understands none of this when the book starts.
The new character is also tailor-made to cause the MC to unwittingly start shifting some of his (the MC's) worries away. The MC would be lessening the weight he carries just by talking about the decisions he has to make and the reasons he makes them.
Would the MC talk about any of this out loud? Yes, because the new guy is from a different culture; the MC would be explaining stuff and the guy would be asking lots of questions as well. I doubt the MC would even notice he was lessening his mental burdens by explaining stuff to the new guy.
Or...not until the big hassle with the messed-up love triangle and its misunderstandings. Then the MC would notice what he'd been doing, and that he'd come to rely on sharing some of his inner workings--because suddenly he couldn't, not anymore. Quadruple hmm. I've been wondering why the MC wouldn't just secretly kill the guy, post-messed-up-love-triangle, then hide his body in the woods and tell everybody he ran away. This may be why. I also knew my MC liked the new guy, but I couldn't quite verbalize the whys and wherefores thereof. Now I think I'm starting to get it.
This all seems promising, like it may very well be productive thinking, and therefore important to remember. However, I know I won't. (see "long-term concentration, lack of," above) By the time I'm able to pick up my ms again, I may not even remember that I need to look at this post. Perhaps a big ugly blog title will help.
*If you're reading this and you're waiting for something from me, sorry. I'm finding that if I try be a machine 24/7, what happens is that I work slower...and slower...and slower...and feel worse and worse and worse about it. Recent events compel me to cut myself some slack and quit trying to be a machine. Life is too short.
**The distinction is important, because if he doesn't acknowledge it to himself, the plot needs to drive him to learn it. Something needs to happen to open his eyes and make him decide, "I'm going to accept that this is how I feel, and quit berating myself for the few times I've gone 'soft.'" After he faces the fact that he values mercy/empathy even though they're pointless/dangerous, he needs to act on this self-knowledge at some point--and that tells me more about what happens in the plot. Whereas if he already knows he values mercy/empathy, most of the plot input probably comes from his figuring out how much weight he's going to give it as the stakes rise and change.
***I've got three guys at cross purposes in a high-stakes confrontation, and a gun with one bullet. I know something happens. I'm just not sure what, exactly.
April 13, 2011
No writing of my own. Looks like I'll be able to dig in n...
No writing of my own. Looks like I'll be able to dig in next week, though.
Interesting post by a fellow writer re. the TV series Downton Abbey:
http://melissawyatt.livejournal.com/194552.html
I saw bits and pieces of this series, enough to get interested but not enough to find out what happened to some of the story threads that I caught in passing. I was appalled and aghast when I asked friends later how those story threads had played out--and found that they didn't play out. At all. Every situation I'd been wondering about had been dropped. Without even a conversation amongst the characters about the problems that had been raised.
It was a big wake-up call as a writer to see how awful it is when somebody just tootles around a story thinking up cool stuff then not following through on any of it. A good reminder, too, to keep track of story/character threads and make sure each one is given its due and builds properly. Also to think about how staying on top of individual threads can help me understand and construct the ending of the overall story.
Interesting post by a fellow writer re. the TV series Downton Abbey:
http://melissawyatt.livejournal.com/194552.html
I saw bits and pieces of this series, enough to get interested but not enough to find out what happened to some of the story threads that I caught in passing. I was appalled and aghast when I asked friends later how those story threads had played out--and found that they didn't play out. At all. Every situation I'd been wondering about had been dropped. Without even a conversation amongst the characters about the problems that had been raised.
It was a big wake-up call as a writer to see how awful it is when somebody just tootles around a story thinking up cool stuff then not following through on any of it. A good reminder, too, to keep track of story/character threads and make sure each one is given its due and builds properly. Also to think about how staying on top of individual threads can help me understand and construct the ending of the overall story.
April 3, 2011
No time to work on my own stuff. However, reality check r...
No time to work on my own stuff. However, reality check re. dystopian ms went swimmingly. The first fifty pages are working well enough to stir wider interest, which is good news.
I might be able to work on the ms in a week or two. When I do, the main job of the moment is figuring out how to keep a grip on the fast pacing I'm determined to have, while also getting in the worldbuilding and backstory, while also getting in allllll the character stuff that I like best and that, to me, is the heart of the story.
As always, the problem is how to integrate an actual plot with my usual non-method of stirring scenes around and together until something clicks. I hesitate to hope that I may finally be inching into my own way of integrating plot and character-driven story, so I'm not letting myself hope. I am, however, allowing myself to open up to the possibility that one day I may finally inch into my own way of integrating plot and character.
Right now I'm leaning toward the following plan, in no particular order (of course):
Finish writing out everything that I know happens plotwise, in scenes. Go ahead and write out the missing chunks of backstory. Write out certain scenes (in the book and not in the book) from the bad guy's POV.Write out some scenes from one of the secondary character's POV.*
Then I'll need to look at what will keep the ms moving at the fast, hook-y pace the first fifty pages have right now. It occurs to me that, once I get everything written out, if I keep one foot firmly planted in the plot stuff (if I have a general framework to start from, an order in which the exciting** stuff happens) then maybe I can hang everything else on it.
If I have all the backstory written out, maybe I can divvy a lot of it up and insert it at certain points. Maybe thinking of it in terms of fitting it around plot events and of reeling it out bit by bit will enable me to reframe some of the backstory as questions to insert in the reader's mind. That would enable it to be used as hooks to carry the story at times when the plot isn't at high heat.
There is one big piece of backstory I need to figure out, for sure. However, it hasn't even begun to jell in the back of my mind yet. What I really want to do next--and will do, because it's calling to me loudest right now--is to write out some of the bad guy's POV. I think he's a key to the shape of the final third of the story, and definitely to the ending. The other key to the ending is the secondary character the book is named for. But he's not as rotten as the bad guy, and I already understand more about how he feels re. the book's events, so I'm not as drawn to him at the moment.
So, maybe next week, or the week after, I can dig back in. Fingers crossed. For now, back to other work.
*I see that most of these items are probably outside the scope of the book. That's the kind of thing I have to notice and keep track of, if I want to learn to integrate plot with my usual process: I will probably always need to write way outside the boundaries of the on-the-page story. If I try to write strictly from scene to scene, I lose my grip on the heart of the story--or never get that grip in the first place. Economy of thought has never paid off for me. Immersion has.
**to other people. To me, what happens is arbitrary. What's exciting to me is what the "stuff" does to the characters, how it makes them feel or how it provokes them to react. The "stuff" itself is an amorphous mass of goo from which I can choose, and then shape, reshape, or toss back into the pot.
I might be able to work on the ms in a week or two. When I do, the main job of the moment is figuring out how to keep a grip on the fast pacing I'm determined to have, while also getting in the worldbuilding and backstory, while also getting in allllll the character stuff that I like best and that, to me, is the heart of the story.
As always, the problem is how to integrate an actual plot with my usual non-method of stirring scenes around and together until something clicks. I hesitate to hope that I may finally be inching into my own way of integrating plot and character-driven story, so I'm not letting myself hope. I am, however, allowing myself to open up to the possibility that one day I may finally inch into my own way of integrating plot and character.
Right now I'm leaning toward the following plan, in no particular order (of course):
Finish writing out everything that I know happens plotwise, in scenes. Go ahead and write out the missing chunks of backstory. Write out certain scenes (in the book and not in the book) from the bad guy's POV.Write out some scenes from one of the secondary character's POV.*
Then I'll need to look at what will keep the ms moving at the fast, hook-y pace the first fifty pages have right now. It occurs to me that, once I get everything written out, if I keep one foot firmly planted in the plot stuff (if I have a general framework to start from, an order in which the exciting** stuff happens) then maybe I can hang everything else on it.
If I have all the backstory written out, maybe I can divvy a lot of it up and insert it at certain points. Maybe thinking of it in terms of fitting it around plot events and of reeling it out bit by bit will enable me to reframe some of the backstory as questions to insert in the reader's mind. That would enable it to be used as hooks to carry the story at times when the plot isn't at high heat.
There is one big piece of backstory I need to figure out, for sure. However, it hasn't even begun to jell in the back of my mind yet. What I really want to do next--and will do, because it's calling to me loudest right now--is to write out some of the bad guy's POV. I think he's a key to the shape of the final third of the story, and definitely to the ending. The other key to the ending is the secondary character the book is named for. But he's not as rotten as the bad guy, and I already understand more about how he feels re. the book's events, so I'm not as drawn to him at the moment.
So, maybe next week, or the week after, I can dig back in. Fingers crossed. For now, back to other work.
*I see that most of these items are probably outside the scope of the book. That's the kind of thing I have to notice and keep track of, if I want to learn to integrate plot with my usual process: I will probably always need to write way outside the boundaries of the on-the-page story. If I try to write strictly from scene to scene, I lose my grip on the heart of the story--or never get that grip in the first place. Economy of thought has never paid off for me. Immersion has.
**to other people. To me, what happens is arbitrary. What's exciting to me is what the "stuff" does to the characters, how it makes them feel or how it provokes them to react. The "stuff" itself is an amorphous mass of goo from which I can choose, and then shape, reshape, or toss back into the pot.
March 2, 2011
Yesterday and today, worked on dystopian. Sent first five...
Yesterday and today, worked on dystopian. Sent first five chapters off to writer friends for a reality check. Now must set it aside for packets and a new w-f-h project due in 2 weeks.
February 28, 2011
Continued refining (I hope) first part. I still keep slip...
Continued refining (I hope) first part. I still keep slipping in little pieces of info, though, because they slide in very naturally and it seems like they belong. Then, of course, I find that the scene has fuzzed out again, and have to fix it.
I need to get this part of the ms relatively under control and send it to writer friends for a reality check, because I may have taken a bigger wrong detour somewhere in here, and if I did the whole thing needs to be rethought. Maybe in the next day or so.
I need to get this part of the ms relatively under control and send it to writer friends for a reality check, because I may have taken a bigger wrong detour somewhere in here, and if I did the whole thing needs to be rethought. Maybe in the next day or so.
February 27, 2011
Worked on dystopian today, trying to get a clear flow for...
Worked on dystopian today, trying to get a clear flow for the first five chapters. I think they're basically working, maybe, and am now trying to trim out anything that heads down the smaller types of dead ends. By "smaller types of dead ends," I mean paragraphs that distract the reader from whatever the scene's really about. Sometimes a paragraph or two explains and deepens what's going on, and sometimes it muddies the scene or derails it or makes it peter out. I don't know any way to tell which is which except by revising the piece over and over and over, and seeing what reads best. And that's what I've been doing today.
February 18, 2011
Thinking about the Hobby Formerly Known as the Former GN....
Thinking about the Hobby Formerly Known as the Former GN. Glanced through it, feeling very dissatisfied. It's got a lot of purty writin'. To which I say: So what? I'll bet my dog could write purty, if I trained it to type.
I thought about why I want to write this ms--obviously I do, because I keep sticking with it even though it's just purty and nothing more. The reason I want to write it is because I'm annoyed and angry--but not super angry, just sort of smolderingly angry.
Then I thought about where the ms picks up and gets interesting--the places where it gets more than just "purty." It perks up and gets a spurt of energy in the places where my snarky smoldering annoyance slips into the third person narrative.
This story is set 3,000 years ago. The points I want to make are from today's perspective. I've tried to make those points staying in a 3,000 year-old POV, but every time I go through the usual process of getting the reader to come to their own conclusions by experiencing a sequence of events along with the MC, it clearly warps the ms. There's too big a gap between today's world and the world of the book.
If I look at what I have, I've got a ms where I've consistently taken my own snarky conclusions out and tried to make the reader "get" the same conclusions on their own. It's clear that this process is not working.
I think a big part of this is getting the right third person voice and understanding how present I need to be in this ms.
A big part is also figuring out how to transition from piece to piece. I like the floating-around thing, and it's fun--but it's not satisfying me as far as actually getting something said. If I wasn't annoyed or smolderingly angry, I could probably float around the story forever and be content. But you can't float around a ms and be angry; the two just don't mix. Anger has purpose and direction.
Sigh.
I've got at least three different types of story going on here, and I don't know how to transition between them. They take place at different times and on different continents. In some the same people have different names. I don't see that I can just label the transitions by place and time, because it's so confusing that labels would be meaningless. On top of which sometimes the people in the sections are the same and sometimes they're not, and sometimes they're the same but the reader might not know it yet.
I pulled out my Scott McCloud, as an aid to thinking about transitions and spaces between. He lists five choices about visual storytelling: choice of moment, choice of frame, choice of image, choice of word, choice of flow. They also apply to textual storytelling, IMO.
Choice of moment: which moments to include and which to leave out.
Choice of frame: distance and angle.
Choice of image: Characters, objects, environment within the frame (scene).
Choice of word: the actual writing part.
Choice of flow: guiding readers from scene to scene.
More things to think about:
Choice of frame affects reading flow.
Choice of flow includes clearing the readers' path of obstacles.
Also, the types of transitions are: moment to moment, action to action, subject to subject, scene to scene, aspect to aspect, and the non-sequitur. The ones I'm having trouble with are scene-to-scene, taking the reader across space and time. McCloud points out that deductive reasoning is often required in reading scene-to-scene transitions.
Hmm. I need to look at what I have (which is about 250 pages worth of stuff) and see what idea storyline A could end on, that would echo or pick up on an idea in the first scene of the next section, which may be storyline C, but it may be B, I dunno yet. I don't know if storyline B and C need to go one at a time, or intercut.
I also need to get storyline B, the main storyline, carved to a bare minimum.
I also need to write out storyline C, because I only have some of it.
It also occurs to me that you can remove all obstacles by repeating a sentence or paragraph that opened or ended a scene earlier in the book. If you repeat it again later, the exact same way, that puts the reader right back in the same scene, at the same place where s/he first heard it. That would be a strong and effective way to transition the three storylines back together near the end: repeat the exact same words from storyline A--carry the reader straight back into A, only now knowing everybody's baggage and being fully invested in the stakes.
I thought about why I want to write this ms--obviously I do, because I keep sticking with it even though it's just purty and nothing more. The reason I want to write it is because I'm annoyed and angry--but not super angry, just sort of smolderingly angry.
Then I thought about where the ms picks up and gets interesting--the places where it gets more than just "purty." It perks up and gets a spurt of energy in the places where my snarky smoldering annoyance slips into the third person narrative.
This story is set 3,000 years ago. The points I want to make are from today's perspective. I've tried to make those points staying in a 3,000 year-old POV, but every time I go through the usual process of getting the reader to come to their own conclusions by experiencing a sequence of events along with the MC, it clearly warps the ms. There's too big a gap between today's world and the world of the book.
If I look at what I have, I've got a ms where I've consistently taken my own snarky conclusions out and tried to make the reader "get" the same conclusions on their own. It's clear that this process is not working.
I think a big part of this is getting the right third person voice and understanding how present I need to be in this ms.
A big part is also figuring out how to transition from piece to piece. I like the floating-around thing, and it's fun--but it's not satisfying me as far as actually getting something said. If I wasn't annoyed or smolderingly angry, I could probably float around the story forever and be content. But you can't float around a ms and be angry; the two just don't mix. Anger has purpose and direction.
Sigh.
I've got at least three different types of story going on here, and I don't know how to transition between them. They take place at different times and on different continents. In some the same people have different names. I don't see that I can just label the transitions by place and time, because it's so confusing that labels would be meaningless. On top of which sometimes the people in the sections are the same and sometimes they're not, and sometimes they're the same but the reader might not know it yet.
I pulled out my Scott McCloud, as an aid to thinking about transitions and spaces between. He lists five choices about visual storytelling: choice of moment, choice of frame, choice of image, choice of word, choice of flow. They also apply to textual storytelling, IMO.
Choice of moment: which moments to include and which to leave out.
Choice of frame: distance and angle.
Choice of image: Characters, objects, environment within the frame (scene).
Choice of word: the actual writing part.
Choice of flow: guiding readers from scene to scene.
More things to think about:
Choice of frame affects reading flow.
Choice of flow includes clearing the readers' path of obstacles.
Also, the types of transitions are: moment to moment, action to action, subject to subject, scene to scene, aspect to aspect, and the non-sequitur. The ones I'm having trouble with are scene-to-scene, taking the reader across space and time. McCloud points out that deductive reasoning is often required in reading scene-to-scene transitions.
Hmm. I need to look at what I have (which is about 250 pages worth of stuff) and see what idea storyline A could end on, that would echo or pick up on an idea in the first scene of the next section, which may be storyline C, but it may be B, I dunno yet. I don't know if storyline B and C need to go one at a time, or intercut.
I also need to get storyline B, the main storyline, carved to a bare minimum.
I also need to write out storyline C, because I only have some of it.
It also occurs to me that you can remove all obstacles by repeating a sentence or paragraph that opened or ended a scene earlier in the book. If you repeat it again later, the exact same way, that puts the reader right back in the same scene, at the same place where s/he first heard it. That would be a strong and effective way to transition the three storylines back together near the end: repeat the exact same words from storyline A--carry the reader straight back into A, only now knowing everybody's baggage and being fully invested in the stakes.
February 11, 2011
Was thinking about the end of the dystopian, and the main...
Was thinking about the end of the dystopian, and the main ideas that need to come to a crux there in the choices presented to the MC and the reader. Also thinking about who embodies those choices. This is helping me figure out the middle. I need to go back and plant a few little references in the beginning section, then also insert a new reference as I'm heading out of the beginning and into the middle. Those will be stepping stones that tie the beginning to the middle and to the end, while also shifting from the problem that starts the story to the one that actually provides most of the conflict and forces the MC to make decisions.
It's still very confusing because there are so many things to think about at once, all needing to be woven together--but confused is good. If I wasn't confused about all these threads, something would be terribly wrong with the book.
I'd better pull up the ms and quickly put in some of these references so I don't forget them. It took me too long to work through other lines of thought to get to them; they'll fade quickly from my head. Then it's back to other writing-related work. I must not forget myself and get caught up in the ms.
It's still very confusing because there are so many things to think about at once, all needing to be woven together--but confused is good. If I wasn't confused about all these threads, something would be terribly wrong with the book.
I'd better pull up the ms and quickly put in some of these references so I don't forget them. It took me too long to work through other lines of thought to get to them; they'll fade quickly from my head. Then it's back to other writing-related work. I must not forget myself and get caught up in the ms.
February 6, 2011
While researching, I remembered this one plotty-idea I'd ...
While researching, I remembered this one plotty-idea I'd been toying with for a while, but had set aside because it didn't seem to have a place in the story. Now I think I might be able to use it as a, um, seed kind of thing. To plant a seed of plot-suspense, I mean.
The story starts off, then it slowly loses steam, and I don't know if the second-kind-of-suspense questions (who's this character? what kind of trouble has he brought with him?) are enough to carry the reader through to the middle of the book. I'm now thinking that mentioning the plotty-thing (MC finds an unmarked potentially crippling pig-sticker trap* in the woods) at the right place in the story, combined with the second-kind-of-suspense questions, may be able to carry the reader through till stuff starts happening again.
However, no time to think more about it right now. If I don't set this ms aside other obligations are going to start piling up in an unacceptable and unprofessional manner.
*When I first thought of this, it was a pit-trap, and that didn't resonate with the story, but then while double checking other snare-related info, I read about a pig-sticker trap, which is pretty horrific; a bent sapling has a sharpened blade attached to the end and it's pulled back so that when the line is tripped, the blade whips around and sinks into the prey. Then I was like, Oh yeah, that makes sense and ties to some of the other stuff I've got going on. The pit-trap didn't. So...we'll see.
The story starts off, then it slowly loses steam, and I don't know if the second-kind-of-suspense questions (who's this character? what kind of trouble has he brought with him?) are enough to carry the reader through to the middle of the book. I'm now thinking that mentioning the plotty-thing (MC finds an unmarked potentially crippling pig-sticker trap* in the woods) at the right place in the story, combined with the second-kind-of-suspense questions, may be able to carry the reader through till stuff starts happening again.
However, no time to think more about it right now. If I don't set this ms aside other obligations are going to start piling up in an unacceptable and unprofessional manner.
*When I first thought of this, it was a pit-trap, and that didn't resonate with the story, but then while double checking other snare-related info, I read about a pig-sticker trap, which is pretty horrific; a bent sapling has a sharpened blade attached to the end and it's pulled back so that when the line is tripped, the blade whips around and sinks into the prey. Then I was like, Oh yeah, that makes sense and ties to some of the other stuff I've got going on. The pit-trap didn't. So...we'll see.
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