Aphelion

Hello, David,

I'm now working on one that I started a few years ago and got stalled on. One of my problems is that I can start a story pretty easily, but only get a little way into it before I realize I have no middle or ending for it, and it was that case with this story. So, it sat idle for quite a while, but I couldn't get it out of my head; I especially liked some of the characters I had developed, and some of the problems faced by the main character in particular.

Some months ago, I decided to try to get something going with it again, and went back to the 3-ring binder I had it in -- printouts of everything I'd done with it so far, plus some handwritten notes. Most of those notes were questions: how did the character feel about this or that; what would be the result if such-and-such happened. I began asking new questions, based on possible departures from the original plot. For a while, it got confusing, as this change necessitated that change, plugging holes in the plot as I restructured it, and finally, it all started to come together, and I could see a new way through the middle to an ending. As a result, the original beginning scenes are now well into the middle.

So, I took off working on it, and have tried very hard (for me, anyway) to maintain progress on it. Regardless of how many words I get down, I tend to spend about three hours a day at it, and I keep reminding myself to push it forward -- and this helps, as it keeps me from going off on tangents with the writing.

I'm also my own worst critic, but this helps. I look at the story searching for inconsistencies, plot holes, and loose ends. I try to anticipate questions that another reader might ask about it, such as: Why did he do that?

I've had to construct a timeline for it, and I'll need to look at that again soon and maybe refine it some.

Another problem I have is editing myself to death; I tend to go back over the text and change a word or phrase here or there. I now remind myself, "You can change it later." An upside to this habit is that the first draft will not be very rough -- the downside is that it impedes progress. We're both fighting that battle, I see.

I've also been determined to avoid narrative info-dumps, which led me to including nearly all the most important information within dialog. That's a definite departure from my old style, but I'm not sure yet how well it works . . . it's coming together somewhat like a mystery story, which isn't a very familiar style to me. I put the information out, but in a way I'm unaccustomed to, in bits of conversation. It does help me focus on characterization.

Finally, I'm going to have to go back over the whole thing later and plug in setting details and some physical descriptions of characters; it needs more sensory description.

To answer your ultimate question: on this project, at least, I seem to be planning it, much more than winging it.

If you're interested, there's a portion of it here:

http://www.aphelion-webzine.com/forum/v ... php?t=1931

-- scroll down to the Aug 9th entry. I've added a lot since then; it's up to 14,800+ words.

Well, I may as well put this out . . .

I am (I think) rebelling against my own attempt at authorial discipline.

Remember that thing about killing your darlings? I've taken to writing mine out -- as part of the manuscript -- in complete and careful detail . . . well, they are my darlings, after all.

Of course I know better. Why am I doing this?

It has occurred to me that I won't be able to kill off the little bitches until they're fully formed -- until I've gotten them out of my head and onto the page.

Then (maybe) they'll leave me alone so I can get back to what I had planned to write. Seems like, the harder I try to shove them out of the way, the harder they shove back. And after all, it's their story -- all I did was ask them to tell it.

Is it helping?

No, and yes. No, in terms of what I had planned for the story . . . my darlings are taking me astray from my intended path, but -- I'm not sure if that's bad or not. The story will change because of them (maybe -- just a little) -- or not, if I choose to eliminate them later (and I may or may not). Also, I get less done to move the story forward.

The 'yes' part of that? More detail, in everything, more understanding of the characters -- and the possibility I might learn something new from them and about them. Plus, adding all this new material has forced me to refine my chapter outline with dates. This has become necessary already, and I'm only at about 31,000 words. here's a sample from my outline:

EIGHT YEARS, SIX MONTHS Apr 2161

* Leeta legally adopted

* Leeta meets Nancy Shearwater *DARLING ALERT*

Actually, this particular one may not turn out to be a darling at all -- this interaction will develop later in a way that will be at least somewhat helpful in developing the character (Leeta's -- not Nancy's).

Can you believe people used to do this stuff without computers??

I started my first attempt at a novel on a manual typewriter. Next-worst thing to a yellow Number 2 pencil. And, if i had gone into the same level of detail with that one, it still would have needed tools like the chapter outline.

Enough for now. Gotta go coddle my sweeties.

Still trying to bust my creativity drought. My newest trick that shows promise is reading for tone - overall emotional flow. While fun, I wasn't getting any vibes from detective dramas on Hulu. This week I've been poking into dark surrealism stories that aim more for sense-of-wonder than plot clockwork.

Try some Bradbury. He always goes straight for the heart.

I can't believe some of the changes my characters, and therefore my plot, went through between chapter 1 and chapter 34.

I know just how you feel.

My current project began with a main character at a particular place, interacting with some secondaries, and I liked it very much. As it looks now, he may never see that place at all, and in fact, about the only thing left from the original concept is the main character himself.

Everything is in motion . . .

Dave, I've long since forgotten -- what is YA again?

"Oh, crap," I said to my computer. "I just painted my characters (and myself) into a time paradox, and not in a good way."

I don't know if my own recent experience is worse or not . . .

I'd been waiting for The Big Thing to happen with my novel project . . . specifically, for the characters to begin taking on lives of their own, or the story to take on a life of its own.

It just happened this last Tuesday, and I wasn't ready for it -- I woke up with a dream of a scene from the story -- and the result is so devastating that for the whole first day, I refused to accept it, would not begin to consider writing it. The scene was so intense that I spent parts of that day wondering if I didn't need pharmaceutical intervention. I had forgotten what it felt like.

Horrors -- it wouldn't leave me alone -- I awoke with the same dream Wednesday. I knew this had to be expressed, with the reservation that I didn't have to actually use it in the story. I started writing it out.

Yesterday -- the pressure relief gave me some clear head space, and I could see some new directions possible. The power of the scene still shakes me, and I'm gathering more from what's already there, but -- I can't see a way out of my dilemma -- if I follow this new line, it will completely destroy the hinge pin of the whole plot, and I may have to admit that a majority of the current 37,000 words may just have to drop into my out-take file as a warm-up exercise for The Real Thing -- and right at this moment, I feel adrift.

If you'll excuse me now, my muse is pulling on my shirt collar -- with the force of a bulldozer.

It's gonna hurt.

Yep. It does -- but -- I can't say I wasn't asking for it.

I just revised the plot of my novel project . . . cut my word count from about 39,000 down to some 13,000 . . . It's now a first and latest chapter, and damn little remaining in between. Hopefully I can fill in the middle stuff more quickly.

I'm basically having to start over with most of it. The good news is that the change fixed a large number of plot holes that had been pestering me and had no good solution.

Funny thing; the change in the general plot wasn't very big -- the gross word-count loss was because I had an awful lot of work -- and some of my best and favorite -- invested in scenes that can no longer exist. The characters remain unchanged, for the most part.

This kind of thing is pretty scary; I'm bothered by the possibility that I may have to do it again, and dammit, I want to be able to finish this thing. The revised plot looks real solid, though, so I'm trying to put that fear to rest -- while I mourn the loss of all the stuff I just deleted.

All this was prompted by a scene that I woke up with two days in a row -- very volatile and emotional. I never did put it into the text; just wrote it in a separate document and left it very raw, but it forced me to make the change.

In the movie "Major Payne", Damon Wayans plays a drill sergeant who gets assigned to a military school as punishment. One of his younger charges is afraid of the monster in his closet. Payne draws his extremely large revolver and fires a few rounds into the closet, then says

"If he's still in there, he ain't happy."

(My suspicion is that whoever was sleeping in the next room wasn't too happy, either.)