Searching for a Method to the Madness Part 2

Last time I talked about two extreme writing methods. Today I have three more moderate methods to discuss.

The Brainstorming Tree Method

Other than outlining, building a brainstorming tree is the only method we covered in school. I'll admit to thinking it was the dumbest thing I'd ever heard when it was first introduced. Writing in little thought bubbles and connecting them with arrows just seemed like a silly, mixed up outline.

The main difference between the brainstorming tree and the mega outline is you stick to just the big points with the tree. It provides structure while allowing for more flexibility. You don’t necessarily need to restructure the whole thing should you change your mind about something halfway through to update your roadmap. Noting the change is generally as easy as swapping the direction and/or placement of the arrows.

The trouble here comes in if you have difficulty remembering the small things. You can add them into the tree, of course, but the more cluttered the tree becomes, the harder it is to read.

Also, some have trouble working with graphic representations of a broad idea. I actually work well with graphics, but they give Hubby headaches. Whether this is due to the damage done to his visual centers or the fact he's much more of an auditory person than visual, we don't know, but we do know a brainstorming tree isn't the method for him.

The Zoom Out Method

I'm rather fond of this method myself and use it in some form with my larger projects. The last three or four pages of my Yekara world book are filled with novels in miniature. As I mentioned in this week's world building post, Yekara and Right of Succession spawned a slew of ideas for sequels. I took the main plots of these ideas, wrote a single sentence for each one, and the results reside in the world book waiting their turn to undergo the zooming out process.

You can think of this method in several different ways. Personally, it helps me to think of it like being a forensic artist. You take the bare bones of the story and then carefully add layers representing complex systems, muscle, sinew, fat, skin, and finally the last details of eyes, hair, and coloring to see the organism as a whole.

It works well, but the zoom out method also takes a lot of time, generally speaking. I’ve used this method almost exclusively with Right of Succession, going through at least twenty-five or thirty drafts in the past thirteen years, each one longer, more complex, and vastly more detailed. I can’t take years writing the next one though if I want to publish more than just one or two novels in my lifetime.

Zooming out does make for an excellent learning tool for beginning writers. I know I learned the most about writing through all the incarnations of Succession throughout the years. Plus, lots of practice gets worked into the zooming stages, helping you slog your way through the “million words of crap” while keeping to one big piece.

The Jigsaw Method

Finally we have the jigsaw method. This is a good one for writers who prefer working in short spurts and in no particular order. You’re free to write any part of your story at any given time and worry about piecing it altogether in an orderly fashion, occasionally adding transitory paragraphs to glue it altogether as needed, later.

In the few writers’ groups I’ve participated in, there was always one or two people who became sidetracked from their WIP because an event scheduled for much later in the piece came to mind, crystal clear and begging to be written. They just couldn’t seem to get their mind off the troublesome scene to finish the section they were working on at the time. The beauty of the jigsaw method is it allows you to go ahead and write the scene ahead of time, save it somewhere, and then just cut and paste it in at a later date, making only what changes are necessary for continuity and voice’s sake.

Yet, the jigsaw’s main strength is also its weakness. The author has to be careful, or the novel as a whole can come out sounding disjointed. New ideas crop up, and this can cause differences in both continuity and voice if the novel as a whole isn’t read over with a careful eye and ear as the puzzle is put back together again.

I’m struggling with this myself as I work on rewriting Succession for what I hope is the last time. Over the years I’ve written shorts and character studies I’d like to incorporate in some small way into the novel, and as I read through the last version not long ago, I found several chapters in need of reordering, merging, or splitting apart. Luckily I have the old version in hard copy to work from with my notes in bright red ink in the margins as I work my way though the novel from start to finish. I only hope I can make sense of my scribbled notes as I continue on in the coming weeks.

This is it for today. Tomorrow will see my personal favorite method thus far and the end of this short series. I hope you’ll come back, and as always, if you have something to add, please join in the discussion.

Searching for a Method to the Madness

I first put pen to paper with the intent of creating a story purely for the fun of it in the late fall of 1990. Until I discovered online writing forums and began with the college newspaper some nine years later, what I knew of writing was gleaned mostly from trial and error. It still is to a large extent, but I do have some idea of what works for others and the craft of it. The one and only college creative writing course I took back in spring 2004 certainly helped, though it was mostly reading and critiquing the work of everyone in the class like a mega sized writer’s group.

Oh sure, I was taught to string together grammatically correct sentences and how to structure an essay in high school the same as everyone else, but writing fiction is a whole different game. How do you bring order and method to a creative process? Should you even try? I’ve been asking myself these questions for years and searching for a way to bring some method to the madness that is my “process,” and I know there isn’t any one size fits all answer.

I’m still searching for a way to refine the manner in which I write to make the process more efficient. The questions for world building list Bob Younce posted in the comments for yesterday’s post are a likely source of inspiration down the road.

Although I’ve yet to find a method to work for me, I have discovered some pros and cons to a litany of techniques and thought perhaps they could be of some use to other writers out there. So today begins a three part series on different writing methods. Like the world building series, this is another topic I’d love to have a good discussion on since while I have had the rare chat regarding world building, I’ve never gotten the chance to discuss writing styles and methods in any detail.

Also, it should be noted I’ve never seen actual names attached to any of these methods, so I’ve given them my own. If you know of a particular thing they’re called, please let me know.

The Naturalistic Method

Perhaps the most natural way to write is to just jump right in and see where the story takes you. I know it’s how most everything I write starts out, at least in the earliest phases, and it works rather well for short pieces. It’s the way all the essays, short stories, poems, and other various works of 10,000 words or less I’ve done were written.

The Naturalistic Method has one big drawback. It lends itself to meandering off onto tangents, dropped story arcs, and highly fragmented stories. When you don’t have any sort of roadmap, it’s all too easy to become enamored of and distracted by one particular element and either wander into a boxed canyon or become entirely lost.

The Mega Outline Method

When I first started venturing onto online writing forums, I heard a lot of talk about outlining before beginning work on a novel. I decided to give it a try.

Have you ever actually tried to outline an entire novel? Let me tell you, if you’ve only ever created an outline for a research paper, the size of it is shocking. You end up with the grandfather of all outlines.

Now, I like having an outline as a guide. It definitely helps keep the story on track and foreshadowing is much easier when you can see what’s ahead at a glance. Plus, if you’re as forgetful as I am, the reminders built into the outline work wonders for not dropping storylines halfway through or leaving plot holes gaping.

However, for those of us with a more organic sense of imagination, the mega outline is rather rigid and limiting. It helps for sure, but it gets annoying rebuilding the thing every time a previously unseen nuance comes along, you decide the ordering is wrong, or something needs to be deleted altogether.

I wasted so much time outlining and reoutlining, I finally just gave up on this method myself.

Here we have two extremes: one totally organic and flowing and the other the picture of order and rigid.

I could keep going, but to keep this post from becoming a behemoth, I’ve decided to split it into several posts. We’ll take a look at a few techniques falling somewhere along the spectrum between in tomorrow’s post.

Thoughts on World Building: Getting Started

After giving Jamie Grove’s suggestion following last week’s post some thought, I’ve decided to try my hand at a short series on the topic of world building. I’ve no idea as of yet how long it will be, and everything is based on my own experiences these past fourteen years or so since I first tried my hand at something longer than a picture book or essay. If you have something to add or completely disagree, I hope you’ll leave a comment. This is a topic I’ve very rarely gotten to speak about with anyone, and I’d love to get a lively discussion going.

As far as I can tell, the world building process generally starts out one of two ways: with the idea for a world or an inkling of a story. Things grow from there with either the story shaping the world or the world giving rise to a story.

I’ve built worlds using both methods, and although both work well, I have to say letting the story drive the world is the easier of the two for me. Perhaps this is because the one built around the story is the only truly alien world of the three I’ve built. I don’t know for sure.

Right of Succession started out as an idea for two characters, and the world of Yekara was born to explain and support elements of the story created for them before it spawned a dozen or so ideas for other novels to follow. Of Secrets and Stones, the only of the three worlds with an actual story in print, and The Icarus Project both began with the question, “What if?” and are alike only in the fact they’re based on our world with these questions answered.

All three required research, but Stones and Icarus took much more. How can you build an alternate world without knowing why this one is the way it is, or was in the case of Stones? Then again, perhaps the difference in difficulty isn’t so much about these two being based in fact as it is my knowledge of in depth history and politics being a bit rusty. If Hubby should work on world building for any project beyond the Secrets and Stones role-play guide book, for which he is my coauthor, I’ll let you know.

Yet no matter how you get started down the world building path, there comes a time where the story and world begin to fuel one another’s growth. It’s different for every story. Icarus reached it almost instantaneously. Succession made the mark about three months into the process, and Stones took even longer, so long in fact I nearly gave up on the world. No matter when it comes though, this step is crucial.

I’ve built three worlds yes, but I never said I haven’t tried building others. Those other attempts never made it to the compounding stage before I simply had to set them aside to work on others. Or at least they haven’t yet, we’ll see if they resurface somewhere down the line as old ideas are sometimes want to do. However, every idea where the story and world began fueling the other made it at least to the stack of rough drafts waiting their turn in revisions.

The Dangers of Overdoing It: Or Why I was an Idiot this Weekend.

Trying to cram two or three day’s worth of work into five or six hours is never very smart. Doing so when just over six months pregnant and over half the work has a physical component to it is down right idiotic. Well then, call me Moron.

I woke up Thursday morning with a clear idea of what my day would entail: the weekly gig, posting the first part of a three part series, and then I’d tackle a few chores around the house before rounding everyone back up from their respective activities. Then a couple of minor road blocks merged to shunt all but the weekly gig to Friday.

I decided to postpone the series, now set to begin on Wednesday of this week instead. Yet, idiot that I am, I decided to try and make up for lost time Friday by doing what I’d planned for the day plus what I hadn’t gotten done Thursday. Normally this wouldn’t have been a problem. Then again, I’m usually not so gravid and weak jointed, and what other time of year does everything have to be completed by 3 p.m., so I can waddle my way to this graduation or that?

You would think I’d learned my lesson last time. Once again, I was blissfully unaware of the damage I was doing, no only to myself but to Sneak as well, until I’d finished and went to try and get out of the car upon arriving at the school to pick Hubby up from work. The moment I felt the old bones start creaking, I knew I’d done it, and sure enough I woke the next morning feeling like I’d been hit by a semi. Worst of all, Sneak was harder hit by this bout of stupidity than Boo was when I did something similar during my eighth month with her, probably due to the fact my hunger and thirst has been more subdued this time around. The poor girl didn’t move at all until about 11 a.m. Saturday morning, and only then because Hubby and Mom talked me into downing one of those Java Chillers from Sonic to see if it’d get her moving.

It took two full days to recover from this round, and it got me thinking about how counterproductive overworking yourself can be, not only for us pregnant ladies, but anyone. Sure, you get more done in the short run, but there’s always a backlash of one sort or another. Either you exhaust yourself, thus reducing your productivity, usually for twice as long as you sustained the increased spurt of activity, or the quality of your work suffers. Sometimes both occur, and if you make a habit of it, burnout becomes a real issue.

How many of these real go getters, workaholics who sometime postpone settling down and having a family until they’ve established their careers, end up stressing themselves into serious health issues in their thirties or forties? How many go back to college searching for a new career after only a few years because they can no longer stand the thought of staying in their current field? How many crash from the adrenaline high over holidays to sink into a crushing depression until work begins anew, and the adrenaline starts pumping again?

It’s tempting to push through the pain to get more done. Sometimes, it’s even needed, but is it worth the risk to make a habit of burning the candle at both ends?

Personally, I think not. Now if only I’d remember the lesson, so I don’t have to take my lumps in the future should I forget.

Perks of the Job

I don’t bring up my day job often on this blog, but I thought I would today because I could use a little help figuring out what to do about something.

When I’m not writing, I work in direct sales to fill in the gaps. It’s something I thought about idly for several years before putting forth the actual investment.

I’d heard about various companies where individuals made their living peddling cosmetics, cookware, and home décor in their community. I enjoy some of the products offered through those companies, even get excited about a few of them, but I was never sure I’d be able to muster up the type of passion for the product needed to successfully sell it. Then I found Usborne Books.

I’d never heard of a publishing company distributing their books mostly through direct sales before, and the idea was intriguing. I looked into the company, and I finally became hopeful enough to cough up the dough to get started. My kit arrived a few days later. I got my first look at the books, and I knew being passionate about the products wouldn’t be a problem.

The books and tools are some of the best I’ve seen when it comes to children’s educational materials. They impart tons of accurate, helpful information in a format managing to be easy to understand, multi-sensory, conducive to retention, and fun all at the same time. I’ve heard customers talk about their children’s, and at times their own, enjoyment of the textbooks, learning tools, and kits. I’ve seen a young girl absolutely engrossed for more than an hour in learning her multiplication tables using one of the wrap up keys, but it was my daughter’s reaction to them that truly sold me on Usborne.

Boo’s been amazed by books from the time she was first able to focus on the pages of one. Once she learned to crawl and pull up, seeing her sit or lay back gazing at the pictures in her board books became a common sight. I’d never seen her perform a grab and run dash or go into a crying jag over one being put away before though.

I only began selling Usborne Books back in March, and I’ll tell you, one of Boo’s first tantrums occurred the day my kit arrived. I made the mistake of opening the box where she was able to see what I was pulling out, and she was none too happy to discover there were books in the house she couldn’t get her hands on, especially brightly colored ones obviously meant for children. Then I went and compounded the problem by reading the one board book in the mix to her. How stupid of me! To this day, she snatches the book and runs off to hide with it anytime she sees it within reach.

Thus far I’ve had to keep my Usborne products away from Boo because the few I have are what I use for my displays. However, I’ve recently earned one of the perks of working for a direct sales company: free merchandise. Well over a hundred dollars worth of free merchandise to be specific.

I’m ecstatic as you might imagine, but it’s difficult to cut down what I want. Hubby has his eye on a couple of books for his classroom next year I’m planning to get him for Father’s Day, and I let Boo pick out four of the touchy feely board books like the one she loves so much. That still leaves about sixty or so “free book dollars” to spend though, and I’ve yet to decide how I want to spend them. To keep with what Boo, and Sneak before long, can use now, or to think further down the road: that’s the question.

What would you do, keeping in mind roughly two to three hundred of the books in the product line go out of print every six months to make room for new titles or revised versions?

* Picture is of Boo at five months.

Thoughts on World Building

Something occurred to me the other day as I sat musing over what I’d write this week. The process of world building is a lot like pregnancy.

Now wait a minute before you go running for the hills. Yes, male readers, I’m talking to you. I’m not going to say anything gross. I promise.

Like all forms of art, sci-fi and fantasy literature, movies, and television shows begin as an idea, minuscule and delicate. The author oscillates between moments of manic research, quiet reflection, and at times days or weeks where the awareness of its presence, its potential, is nearly forgotten in the press of day to day concerns. Yet it grows: gaining form and purpose, developing systems, and gathering strength until the idea is finally able to make itself known.

Those first nudges are subtle and easily missed or forgotten by a distracted author, but they quickly become more definite and insistent. The author begins putting words to paper, taking care to ensure all needed elements are available and eliminated unwanted materials from the diet. Research intensifies. Preparations are considered, and growth accelerates. Soon the idea is only recognizable as the same tiny spark it was before in its most basic elements.

The first set of revisions and rewrites begin, and the idea, already almost fully formed, matures and gains weight. It occupies the author’s thoughts more now than ever, and the nudges, once so gentle, can be surprisingly strong even painful at times. Arrival is within sight, and the author increases their efforts to prepare.

Soon time for final edits arrives, the shortest and most painful phase for most. All is ready. All remaining is the final push and cleansing before the author holds their world, newly born and perfect in their hands.

Then the hard part begins.

Gathering Courage

We face the unknown today.

After spending the past three weeks or so fighting to gather all Hubby’s medical records, MRI films, etcetera and to get him an appointment with a new neurologist, we’re preparing to head off for the elusive consultation this morning. Both of us are skeptical, hopeful, and worried about what he’ll find all at once.

I suppose skepticism is somewhat normal. After being burned, it becomes hard to trust someone else, and his last neurologist burned us badly. You’d think a patient who has had more seizures in the past eighteen months than the sixteen years between the accident and the originating seizure just over a year ago would warrant some type of action. Apparently this is not the case. In the past year and a half the only tests run on Hubby’s behalf were ordered by physicians in the E.R. and summarily ignored by his former neurologist, who would do nothing in the follow up visit but treat poor Hubby like a moron, write a script for a larger dose of his medication, and shoo him out of the office.

However, I hear the gentleman we’re going to see this morning is both competent and extremely thorough. This leads to hopeful. We’re hopeful a cause will be found. We’re hopeful this cause will have a treatment, and we’ll be freed from living with a constant, nagging fear in the back of our minds. We’re hopeful Hubby will be able to return to doing many of the things he loves, which are currently just too dangerous for him to participate in under the risk of having another seizure in the midst of them.

But we’re talking about the complex workings of the central nervous system here. Aside from medication, there will be no simple fix. We know this. The severity of it isn’t lost on us, and we’re worried.

Yet ignorance is not bliss. Knowledge is needed before action, and without action there cannot be change. So we’ll gather our courage and trudge out to face the unknown today.