Notes for a New Project
I’m barely done with the hard work of the last project and still going through it again before I send it out to readers, and my mind is already mulling over the next project. The jumping off point is a man, up early in the…
» read
leave a comment The Three-Quarters Done Complex
A funny thing happened when I got about three-quarters of the way through this first draft of my “project.” I had to (sort of) map out where I was going near the end so that I know the critical scenes and could time things, but…
» read
2 commentsKill All the Lawyers? No, Kill the Fiction Writers
tags:
fiction, literary fiction, process
In the last six weeks, I’ve read comments by established writers declaring that “bad fiction writers” be stopped.
As a diligent and widely unknown fiction writer, I beg to differ. The inherent quality of fiction, the pronouncement that it’s good or bad, is entirely subjective. Beyond that, fiction requires shelf-life. Many of our best writers finish a piece and put it away to rewrite only when time has brought them to a different vantage point. Then, too, what’s bad today; could easily be judged good tomorrow. Or the opposite—what was considered breakthrough literature twenty years ago bores us now. Fiction is an art. While many might agree that fiction with an indifference or ignorance of structure, grammar, narrative, character, and/or story arc qualifies as despicable writing, others might know some of the writer’s other work and declare the same piece experimental. Any writer, afraid to risk writing badly, will never manage the daredevil feats unique fiction requires.
Of course, not many people care much about unique fiction, or any fiction until it’s transformed into a movie or TV series. That development may not disturb me as much as it should. What does disturb me is the idea that bad fiction writers are an assault upon society. Why fiction writers?
Why not bad guitar players or bad sculptors? It’s not much harder to toss out a bad short story or dump a boring novel than it is to turn away from a bad painting or photograph. Bad drummers may not be as popular as I imagine, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they weren’t tolerated with a great deal more sympathy than the struggling, searching, over-reaching fiction writer. Even though bad drummers, if they’re experimenting in your apartment building or garage, intrude on your privacy much louder than any fiction writer sweating to find a line of angry, screaming dialog ever could.
One commentator expressing anger toward bad fiction writers referred to the MFA writers’ programs popular throughout this country and what a waste of money and energy they are. I don’t know, being a self-taught fiction writer. But I would no more want to put writers’ programs out of business than dance schools or fledgling theatre groups or even a garage band with more attitude than chord changes.
Speaking for myself, you’re apt to find my penchant for writing fiction is among the least of my obnoxious qualities. Years ago I gave up almost all hope of publication. But I would no sooner give up writing fiction than I’d give up my life. Honestly, my plea here is not for myself alone. Tolerate me or not—I know quite well how little difference I’ll ever make. But earnest young writers determined to master their art? Are they really so abominable? How hard is it to say, “Keep at it.” They work alone, in silence, and dupe you into spending your money about as often as they win the lottery. The very worst fiction writer might someday become the best. No one knows. It costs nothing to say, “Work hard enough, long enough and you’ll eventually become the writer you were meant to be.”
» read
The Spirit of Kepler and Other Celestial Matters
tags:
process, science, writing
So Dead Beat isn’t letting you away too easily. I know you wish he’d shut up about analogy and the creative process and just allow you all to get on with your writing, and for a while I thought I would, but just then who…
» read
On Novel Outlining
tags:
outline, process, writing
It’s funny how MFA programs don’t put much focus on novel writing. Sure, some time is spent on analyzing novels, but there is no real guidance on how to build or shape a novel. So, we walk out with a portfolio of short stories, some critical writing, and no lick of experience of doing what it is almost all of us are looking to do.
Last week I realized that I was nearing the half-way point in my “project.” I’d gone past the point of establishing characters, exploring their dilemmas, and now it was time to put them on the path to the eventual resolution. And I’d really been winging up to this point. I knew the characters, but I want them to sort things out on their own without having some unwieldy outline to which I was supposed to adhere. Yet, suddenly I was there, beginning a new chapter, and I realized I didn’t really know what I wanted to have happen, what needed to happen.
Novel outlining seems to be somewhat of a contentious issue. Authors seem to have all sorts of responses to the question of whether or not they outline. I think many want us to think that it’s all organic and that any sort of “planning” is not artistic and goes against the process. Sure, maybe people writing those plot-driven things need to outline, but I don’t. I don’t think I believe this.
I have several characters who all need to come together in the resolution, and if I don’t have an idea of what I need to have happen when I’m screwed. I’ll end up writing one of those novels where it seems the author didn’t quite know what he/she needed to have happen and the whole thing veers off in a new direction (see: Look At Me, Empire Falls-which I still liked).
Resources on outlining are a bit limited. I went out a-wandering on the internet in hopes of finding some direction, suggestion, guidance. If you’re writing sci-fi or romance there is some support out there, but no one really wants to talk about outlining a literary novel. Not one link worth passing on.
What I had to do was to outline the course of each character. On a separate piece of paper I noted the scenes and development for each character and then a few words on what I needed to have happen to them in the future, the different scenes I knew that I would need. Then I had to lie each of these together, looking at what was missing, and outline the course of action. So, now I have a rough list of scenes in the order I need to have them happen in order to get us to the conclusion. But is truly rough. A few words each. I still don’t want to tie the characters down and force them into anything, so I think I’ve left them a little room to move around on their own.
I now feel open to write away, knowing where the landmarks are, where each checkpoint is, what I vaguely want to accomplish in each chapter. I finally feel like I can move forward.
» read
Write every day? Yeah, right.
Do you ever get sick of hearing that? I do. Maybe it’s just because I don’t write everyday. Or maybe I’m sick of hearing it from people who have the time available to them. In this month’s Poets & Writers Walter Mosley delivers the usual lecture. He begins,
The first and most important thing that you have to know about writing is that it is something you must do everyday. Every morning or every night, whatever time it is that you have.
Well, I don’t want to hear it, but it’s hard to argue with. But then he goes on,
Getting your words down on the page takes time. How much? I write three hours every morning. It’s the first thing I do, Monday through Sunday, fifty-two weeks a year.
Well, congratu-freakin-lations. Must be hard to do with that full-time job, a toddler and a pregnant wife. Oh, wait, that’s me, not Walter Mosley. Does he have a full-time job?
He does go on to make some great points, and I don’t want to dismiss the thesis that writing is hard work.
Elsewhere in the magazine, an article by Caitlin O’Neil called “The Writer’s Triangle: Balancing Writing With Living” let’s us see the other side of the maxim. She writes, “If a writer is earning enough money, she doesn’t have enough time to write. If a writer has enough time to write, she’s broke. If a writer is cut off from people and money-generating work in order to write, she’s depressed and isolated.” Now, I won’t argue though I disagree with the last point, or at least I don’t know that there’s really anything wrong with being depressed and isolated (I could also criticize the pronoun choice, but I won’t).
It is tricky finding that balance, being fair to all aspects of your life. In an interview I heard recently with Kate Braverman she said that if you are serious about the art of writing get a well-paying job. She doesn’t suggest sacrificing your well-being by hiding out in your office and not working until finally producing your masterpiece. Instead, find a job that provides you the security you need to not let money figure in to your work and one that leaves your mind open for creative activity. This is the tack I’m taking.
Years ago, I lived what I deemed was an “artist’s life.” That meant drinking too much, quitting jobs on a whim, and living a life of poverty and degradation. But, boy, did I produce a lot of work. Too bad most of it was crap. Since then I got my act together, got my undergraduate degree, then an MFA, got a real job, got married and began having children. So, I may not write as much now (and certainly not as much as I should) but what I write is better. And I’m not so desperate to make a buck with it that I let that override artistic concerns.
Okay, so I resolve to write more, nearly everyday, but I will still cherish my sleep, my time with my family, and I’m still going to work. Three hours a day, my ass.
» read
leave a comment 
