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FlickrAn Outline of an Outline
Apparently Thursdays are cursed; even with a power failure at work and an enforced vacation I still find myself unable to post on time. Such is life.
In lieu of further venting about Eyes of Stone, let me instead give you these thoughts re: outlines.
Simply put, I have previous to now not outlined stories very much (there; one of your classic author Q&A questions, answered before I ever have an author Q&A). A lot of this is for the same reason that I have trouble posting on time: inspiration does not respond well to structure. It responds well to discipline, certainly; if I set out to write every day or 5 days a week and really force myself to do so I find my ability to tap inspiration on demand does improve. But even that strain sometimes causes a collapse--I've had plenty of weeks where the mere thought of writing sets my eyes to straining and my forehead to aching.
And so it is with outlines. Often, when I do decide to outline a story, I find myself quickly blasting off straight into Crazytown; the whole process ends with a few bursts of swearing and me stalking away from my computer to go watch some old Mutant Enemy productions and pray for salvation. At the risk of sounding like some kind of Beat pretender, I work much better when I don't script myself and just see where things take me.
How many of you shuddered just there? Or winced? Yeah. I've been there.
For those not "in the know": "just winging it" will only really get you so far a lot of the time, unless you are well-practiced or absurdly talented. For every story that goes beautifully and flows into a fascinating ending there is one story that gets to around 10,000 words with no end or even middle in sight, one that follows a formula so trite it makes my mouth pucker when I read it, and one that has some great bits in the middle but just suddenly ends. I'll go back through manuscripts and find myself inserting no end of nauseating twists and twirls, pretentiously sly winks, and inventive but unnecessary characters who mostly serve to prove what a great and detailed world I have developed...for a 10-page story.
Of course, writers fail sometimes. Pick your famous creator and imagine the attic full of crumpled paper or dried lumps of clay or half-smeared canvas, and it's undoubtedly true in most cases. And this was my little mantra for everything that got rejected, everything that needed rewriting, everything that even editing couldn't save. Just keep winging it, just keep letting the inspiration come in whatever doses I can get, and don't worry too hard about the failures. And then there was Eyes of Stone.
I've said here before, as well as in more personal settings, that Eyes of Stone is proving to be a chore, if an often-enjoyable one. And really, yesterday, as I sat there at my desk wondering how to use up eight hours that are normally slotted for proofreading, I finally hit on the truth that differentiated the rockier path taken here from the straighter (if still bumpy) ride of Done with Mirrors: when I started Done with Mirrors, or at least about 20,000 words into it, I had some idea how it would end.
Not so with Eyes of Stone. I knew I wanted drama, and personal conflict, and big changes to my main character's life (but not too big, just first steps in mostly right directions). But the reason I got frustrated with trying to outline this story was that doing so raised questions, and one of the primary questions was, where did I really think this was all going? That was what was lacking; that was the positive charge that my inspiration failed to have.
Well, I think I have it now, and that's a good feeling (if somewhat diluted by me being concerned with, of all things, my page count...that's for the editing phase, buddy, don't get ahead of yourself). And more importantly I think I learned a basic truth here, which is that I am not ready to write something until I know how it ends. I can wander all around in the middle, I can even arrive at a totally unexpected destination (God knows I didn't expect what I got in Done with Mirrors), but I need to have a point on a map, or else I wind up steering straight off the edge.
It's sometimes painful, but it's still progress.
In lieu of further venting about Eyes of Stone, let me instead give you these thoughts re: outlines.
Simply put, I have previous to now not outlined stories very much (there; one of your classic author Q&A questions, answered before I ever have an author Q&A). A lot of this is for the same reason that I have trouble posting on time: inspiration does not respond well to structure. It responds well to discipline, certainly; if I set out to write every day or 5 days a week and really force myself to do so I find my ability to tap inspiration on demand does improve. But even that strain sometimes causes a collapse--I've had plenty of weeks where the mere thought of writing sets my eyes to straining and my forehead to aching.
And so it is with outlines. Often, when I do decide to outline a story, I find myself quickly blasting off straight into Crazytown; the whole process ends with a few bursts of swearing and me stalking away from my computer to go watch some old Mutant Enemy productions and pray for salvation. At the risk of sounding like some kind of Beat pretender, I work much better when I don't script myself and just see where things take me.
How many of you shuddered just there? Or winced? Yeah. I've been there.
For those not "in the know": "just winging it" will only really get you so far a lot of the time, unless you are well-practiced or absurdly talented. For every story that goes beautifully and flows into a fascinating ending there is one story that gets to around 10,000 words with no end or even middle in sight, one that follows a formula so trite it makes my mouth pucker when I read it, and one that has some great bits in the middle but just suddenly ends. I'll go back through manuscripts and find myself inserting no end of nauseating twists and twirls, pretentiously sly winks, and inventive but unnecessary characters who mostly serve to prove what a great and detailed world I have developed...for a 10-page story.
Of course, writers fail sometimes. Pick your famous creator and imagine the attic full of crumpled paper or dried lumps of clay or half-smeared canvas, and it's undoubtedly true in most cases. And this was my little mantra for everything that got rejected, everything that needed rewriting, everything that even editing couldn't save. Just keep winging it, just keep letting the inspiration come in whatever doses I can get, and don't worry too hard about the failures. And then there was Eyes of Stone.
I've said here before, as well as in more personal settings, that Eyes of Stone is proving to be a chore, if an often-enjoyable one. And really, yesterday, as I sat there at my desk wondering how to use up eight hours that are normally slotted for proofreading, I finally hit on the truth that differentiated the rockier path taken here from the straighter (if still bumpy) ride of Done with Mirrors: when I started Done with Mirrors, or at least about 20,000 words into it, I had some idea how it would end.
Not so with Eyes of Stone. I knew I wanted drama, and personal conflict, and big changes to my main character's life (but not too big, just first steps in mostly right directions). But the reason I got frustrated with trying to outline this story was that doing so raised questions, and one of the primary questions was, where did I really think this was all going? That was what was lacking; that was the positive charge that my inspiration failed to have.
Well, I think I have it now, and that's a good feeling (if somewhat diluted by me being concerned with, of all things, my page count...that's for the editing phase, buddy, don't get ahead of yourself). And more importantly I think I learned a basic truth here, which is that I am not ready to write something until I know how it ends. I can wander all around in the middle, I can even arrive at a totally unexpected destination (God knows I didn't expect what I got in Done with Mirrors), but I need to have a point on a map, or else I wind up steering straight off the edge.
It's sometimes painful, but it's still progress.
Labels: writing process
posted by Tyler at
1:21 PM
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