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Posts Tagged ‘Stories’

Making a Move: The Basics

Monday, June 7th, 2010

The Old Way

I wrote the first draft of Make a Move in Microsoft Word for Mac. It wasn’t the best way to work, but it did the job and got the first draft done. I’m a big fan of not messing about when something’s working for me, so I had no reason to look elsewhere, but when I delivered the draft of Episode Six to my first readers, knowing something was wrong with it (an issue they confirmed) I was tempted to look around for a better way to write, or specifically to edit. I hate scrolling through page after page of text; I prefer to deal with individual scenes – really focus on the details and how the scene fits together – and only at the end assess the completed work. So I looked around for some writing software that would let me work the way I wanted, and I found Scrivener, and I never looked back.

Research

Thank God for the internet.

Seriously – why spend days in libraries, or researching locations, when you can look up facts and figures as you write? It’s amazing. I still like to visit locations, but thats more for inspiration and high-res photography for book jacket designs; why jump on a plane to find the ideal location for a scene when you can walk the streets of almost any major city using Google Maps Streetview, and then check out interiors via a business’ website? It’s so much easier. More importantly, it’s quicker, which frees up more time for writing. And if you care about carbon footprints, you’ll be happier.

My research method is to gather bookmarks into my “Research” folder of whatever browser I’m using (currently Google Chrome) or, if it’s an image, text/Word/PDF file or whole webpage I want to read offline, I drag it into Scrivener.

The Plan

Make a Move was easy to plan; six episodes, each requiring three main ideas. Originally it was all planned in Word files, but now I can just create 6 folders in Scriv, one for each episode, and add files for key scenes, as I’m doing now for the sequel. I try not to restrict myself by planning in too much detail as I get bored writing the story; I need to find out what happens as much as the reader, so I only put down key plot points, such as “In this scene, Freddy needs to discover this, and get from here to there”. I have files of ideas for scenes, gags, action beats, and I lift those into the scene as I go. It’s not jazz (shudder) but it’s as freeform as I can keep it while still being structured enough to get me to the end.

The Execution

I’m not a born writer; it’s hard for me to keep grinding out wordcount, but I’m getting more productive. I guess 1000 words is a good session, 2000 an amazing one. I won’t be mad at myself for only doing a couple of hundred though – that’s how it goes sometimes.

Of course, this all happens after I get started, and that can take a while…

I tend to write in my study (read: third bedroom with computer desk, bookcases and a variety of musical instruments), but it’s never been an inspiring place to write. Nowhere really works for me. My average writing session is two hours: one hour of getting ready to write followed by one hour of writing. I always sit down with the intent to write immediately, but I have to stare at the screen, re-read the previous section, think, walk about, play some guitar … it takes time to start flowing. Luckily, once I’m writing, I’m fast, so I claw the time back.

Make a Move took about two years to write, which isn’t great, but remember I said it was six episodes with three main ideas each? Most novels have three main ideas TOTAL; Make a Move really took a lot of inspiration and time to come up with coherent, entertaining, original ideas, and they didn’t all hit first time. Okay, so I’m exaggerating a bit, as episodes five and six are a two-parter sharing three ideas, but that’s still fifteen. You try thinking of fifteen narrative hooks using the same characters.

The End of the Beginning

So that was the first draft done. Two years. Okay, maybe two and a half, but who’s counting? I was pleased with how the first draft came out (apart from that issue with Episode Six) and was ready, after a short hiatus, to start editing. I’m not great at editing, but that’s okay, as I’m not great at “just getting it down” to finish the first draft. My writing tends to hit the page in a near-finished form, which also goes some way to explain why it takes me so long. I’m obsessed with the form and pacing of dialogue and action beats, and I can’t put anything down unless I know it’s my best work. In the edit, I’ll polish it further, but by then I’ll have learned more and feel I can do better than my raw effort.

I said before about the issues with Episode Six. Not wanting to reveal plot points, it involved a misjudged sub-plot, told as backstory, that just killed the pacing of the finale. Killed it dead. As I approached the edit, I knew I had to break the episode apart to fix it, which was when I turned to Scrivener as a writing tool. With all of the scenes separated, I began to delicately extricate the details that were causing problems. Translation: I deleted all of it. Like I said, I’m not great at editing, so I just delete what isn’t working and rewrite it. It’s just what works for me.

With that major flaw fixed, I just read and reread the book, over and over, until every sentence felt as polished as I could make it. I’m not talking about major rewrites – just pacing dialogue better and making sure my prose is as interesting to read as possible. With all of the episodes the same length – give or take a couple of hundred words, I knew I was there.

 

Adverbs are for Children

Monday, February 22nd, 2010

It’s a curious coincidence that somebody sent me this link today, as I’ve been planning a post on writing tips for a while now. The problem is, I’m not a big fan of writing tips, as writing is such a personal endeavour, I think it’s incredibly pompous to think that what works for you has value for others. Also, people love to give advice whether there’s any worth to their ideas or not; the joy, for them, is in the giving.

So, this post isn’t writing advice; it’s just some changes I made to my writing and life styles that got me through Make a Move, and that are on my mind as I plan book two. Maybe there’s something in here that will inspire you to make your own changes.

The List

  • Don’t plan in too much detail. If you already know every last plot detail of a book, there’s nothing left for you, as the author, to discover. If the writing of a book isn’t filled with delights and surprises, it’s just work, and most day jobs pay better.
  • Make it as easy as possible to write. For me, this meant buying a new battery for my laptop and taking it with me everywhere. A lot of people create a sanctuary of creativity in which to work – a haven of peace and inspiration. If you need that to write, what are you doing when you’re not in it?
  • Stop watching tv. Okay – this was one bit of advice I did take on board from Stephen King (in his book, On Writing), but I added my own twist. I like tv – I think Make a Move would make a great tv show, so I’m not going to dismiss it, either as an art form or a source of inspiration. What I did instead was to break my watching habits so I watch a show in my own time, rather than when it’s on. I have Sky+ for that, but there are many ways to “time-shift” your viewing (legally…): HD/DVD recorders, catch-up tv services, hell – even a VCR. The trick is to get out of that mentality that tells you “it’s 9pm, time for show X”; that hard stop is like an incoming truck ready to crush your productivity. And try to limit yourself to having one or two shows on the go at a time unless you’re working to a 30-hour day.
  • Create demand. The first book you write has nobody waiting on it, so the only pressure to complete it comes from within. If you can, deliver it to your first readers in stages, so that their expectation for subsequent parts is driving you. Make a Move is written in six episodes, so it’s perfect for this, but any book can be broken up during the writing. Those smaller project goals make it easier to keep going too.
  • Write something new. Okay – this is a contentious one, but it applies to me, and that’s what this list is about. If you’re writing your own take on a story that’s already in print, all you’re doing is walking in someone else’s footprints, and chances are, their story was pretty good (or why else did you read it) so you’re setting the bar even higher than it needs to be. My biggest issue with this approach is that I feel like I’m copying/rehashing/riding coat-tails (choose a term based on which is least offensive to you), and I can’t think of anything more likely to sap energy and creativity. If you think you’re in familiar territory, make it REALLY different. Play with textures of writing, with readers’ expectations. Break the rules. And if you’re convinced that you can’t get away from that previous work, ask yourself if there’s even a need for your book. Maybe you should move onto the next idea instead.

Like I said, this isn’t advice; it’s just a summary of the thought processes that got me where I needed to be, but like I said above, people love to give advice, so I’m going to give in to temptation and share one cast-iron writing tip:

Adverbs are for children.

Paris, Why?

Tuesday, December 8th, 2009

I believe I found my voice in the writing that followed the discovery of my muse: Paris. I know that for most people, a muse is a person, but people only have one story, while Paris has near-infinite tales. It doesn’t matter where you walk (and you always have to walk to find the stories) you’ll see people interacting, communicating, creating drama. Once you get on the Parisian wavelength, it’s a beautiful experience in which to immerse yourself, but it’s not just the natives: the tourists are as much part of the fabric of the city.

I know there are probably other cities with a comparably rich vein of narrative, but I’ve not been to them. English cities are populated with people getting from A to B as quickly, and with as little interaction, as possible. Rome felt equally focussed. Florence’s charms are hidden in its galleries. New York is like being in a film with one main plotline. Boston is refined, but too small. What happens in Vegas is mostly orchestrated. Budapest has stories, but Hungarian is such a complicated language, I haven’t a clue what they’re about. I hear that Berlin has character and excitement to spare, but I’ve yet to visit, and it’s already too late for me: Paris is my mistress.

Two months before releasing Make a Move, I went back to Paris for a few days to build some energy, take photos for the cover art and do research for the follow-up to Make a Move, provisionally subtitled “Season Two”. Just me, my camera and a couple of changes of underwear. So much of Make a Move is drawn from my observations on the streets of Paris, I have to be there to get ideas – to get the feel for the stories. Google Street View is not enough. I found so many stories this time, my mind was buzzing with ideas for the sequel while I rode the train back to Charles de Gaulle (Roissy) airport. I captured a lot of them on camera (I was practising being less “reserved” in my street photography) and I’m going to share some on here, so you can get a feel for where Make a Move comes from.

This first story is pretty obvious, but it’s the incongruity that piqued my interest:

You see this sight in Vegas all of the time: newlywed brides, with or without grooms, being photographed in front of whatever photogenic background is available, but at the foot of the Arc de Triomphe? The photographer in the picture has a pretty standard wedding setup – crop-sensor DSLR with a portrait-length lens, assistant with a similar spare camera – and there were no other helpers with additional lights or reflectors, so I’m pretty sure it wasn’t staged. I was there to try out a new photographic technique (which kind of worked…) and it took a lot of work just to fight through the crowds in the underpass to get into the centre of the Place de l’Etoile. How this bride managed it while remaining fresh-looking is beyond me. I’ve also no idea why she (they?) chose this location to take pictures, but therein lies the story. Maybe they wanted to capture the softness of the bride’s dress against the rigid lines of the arch, or to juxtapose her serenity with the swirling traffic. Maybe they just wanted a guy in shorts and fluorescent vest in the background, and this was the only spot in Paris they were guaranteed to find one.

I don’t know – maybe I’ll use it in a book, maybe I won’t. Either way, it made me smile.