I've done it. I've written every day in the last 30 days except one. I've typed out 70,676 words in a month. Even though this is the third time I've done NaNo, 70,000 words by the end of November is a lot for me. This time last year I was at only 53,000. Unfortunately, I'm not done with my novel. In fact, I'm not even close to done. I'm 240 pages into a novel that should be about 300 pages, and I'm going to have to cut a huge chunk to make it fit, because there's a lot left to write.
If my adventure of writing a novel was to be described in Acts, I just finished Act 2 of the journey—completing the quest of writing 50,000 words in 30 days—only to realize the real treasure (the finished manuscript) still lies out of reach at the end of Act 3.
After Act 2 typically comes a happy lull where everyone feels good about what's been accomplished. I'm feeling a post–Act 2 depression. I really should be much farther along. If this novel is going to be about 80,000 to 100,000 words long, I've spent too much time on a beginning and not enough time on action. I feel behind in a race that exists only in my head.
Were I a slightly more seasoned writer, I'd probably go back now and edit down the beginning to streamline the story, but I still worry about the possibility of getting bogged down in "the perfect beginning" and never finishing the novel, as I did for many years with my first book.
So I will push ahead and write the rest of the novel as the first should have been written, with brevity at the forefront of my mind. I'm not a minimalist writer, so forcing myself to think of ways to make the scene progress faster, the action sequences to come more rapidly, the characters to minimize their internal conundrums is difficult for me, but the results (as I've seen with Madison) are well worth it.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Who's Writing This—Me or My Character?
There seem to be two camps of authors out there: those who say their characters are basically real in their head, with the ability to dictate the story and tell the author where to go, and those who scoff at the first camp as utterly ridiculous, since that character is nothing more than a figment of the author's imagination, and therefore has no opinion or idea that is not, in fact, the author's own idea. I say both camps are actually one and the same, just with different perspectives.
I think it is a bit silly to believe that the imaginary people that I create somehow occupy a part of my brain separate to that which is me, and that they can, from their thrones in my head, dictate where the story should go and what they should say. At the same time, a character, once created, is never all me. She is never again just my imagination. She becomes the whole of her parts, and her experiences and dreams dictate her actions, just as mine do in my own life.
So when authors of the first camp say their characters took the story in a different direction than they planned, or that they took over, I believe this is nothing more than the summation of the character's personality traits making a decision that feels right to the character created. It is the author's feel for the rhythm of the characters and the story that makes the moment feel right or wrong. The author may originally have planned a different decision for their character, but by the time that point in the story was reached, it no longer feels true to the character.
For example, in writing Sasha, I preplotted many of the major scenes with quick notes on 3x5 cards. If I had more of the scene envisioned than would fit on the card, I would type it up in a Word document to remind me of my vision weeks later when I reached the scene. Sometimes these notes were nothing more than an extra sentence or two; sometimes these notes were whole pages of dialog and descriptions.
I recently arrived at a scene I'd entitled "Confrontation" because my main characters were to have a very heated argument about their mutual betrayals. I'd written out half a page of their verbal volleys back when I was storyboarding, but when I read back through them now, nearly five weeks later, it no longer rang true for the characters. The scene needed something quieter.
Were I an author of the first camp, I'd say that Eva refused to be pigeonholed into that conversation and had a mind of her own for what needed to be said to the male lead. Were I an author of the second camp, I might claim that this change of plans was nothing more than me changing my mind. Instead, I feel that my decision to go with a different mood for the scene was one of those magical moments when the characters felt like real people, and their decisions—down to when they picked a fight to when they chose to deflect one—felt as clear and real as my own emotions, and I accepted it for the blessing it is, hoping that when I do the first edit, it reads as true as it feels now.
I think it is a bit silly to believe that the imaginary people that I create somehow occupy a part of my brain separate to that which is me, and that they can, from their thrones in my head, dictate where the story should go and what they should say. At the same time, a character, once created, is never all me. She is never again just my imagination. She becomes the whole of her parts, and her experiences and dreams dictate her actions, just as mine do in my own life.
So when authors of the first camp say their characters took the story in a different direction than they planned, or that they took over, I believe this is nothing more than the summation of the character's personality traits making a decision that feels right to the character created. It is the author's feel for the rhythm of the characters and the story that makes the moment feel right or wrong. The author may originally have planned a different decision for their character, but by the time that point in the story was reached, it no longer feels true to the character.
For example, in writing Sasha, I preplotted many of the major scenes with quick notes on 3x5 cards. If I had more of the scene envisioned than would fit on the card, I would type it up in a Word document to remind me of my vision weeks later when I reached the scene. Sometimes these notes were nothing more than an extra sentence or two; sometimes these notes were whole pages of dialog and descriptions.
I recently arrived at a scene I'd entitled "Confrontation" because my main characters were to have a very heated argument about their mutual betrayals. I'd written out half a page of their verbal volleys back when I was storyboarding, but when I read back through them now, nearly five weeks later, it no longer rang true for the characters. The scene needed something quieter.
Were I an author of the first camp, I'd say that Eva refused to be pigeonholed into that conversation and had a mind of her own for what needed to be said to the male lead. Were I an author of the second camp, I might claim that this change of plans was nothing more than me changing my mind. Instead, I feel that my decision to go with a different mood for the scene was one of those magical moments when the characters felt like real people, and their decisions—down to when they picked a fight to when they chose to deflect one—felt as clear and real as my own emotions, and I accepted it for the blessing it is, hoping that when I do the first edit, it reads as true as it feels now.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
One Hobby Down
Writing has always been the thing I've done on weekends and during holidays for as long as I can remember. The more serious I get about it, though, the less it's like a hobby and the more it is like work. And I'm not complaining.
However, when I get together with friends, I don't have a lot to say. I work at home. I write. I spend exceptional amounts of time in my own head, and a lot doesn't translate to casual conversation. I wondered if I'd backed myself into a socially dull corner.
And then I realized that most of my favorite authors—the ones who produce multiple books a year and who write almost as fast as I'm ready to read them—they've all talked about how they are workaholics, working seven days a week for the most part.
I've never considered myself a workaholic (quite the opposite when I worked in the corporate world), but with the recent ongoing experience of NaNo, I can see how I could easily fall into that category. I've been writing about 2 hours every morning before switching over to work. Those two hours fly by. If I could write all morning, edit in the early afternoon, and do non-writing author work in the evenings, I'd be a happy girl.
I was just reading about Janet Evanovich's writing schedule (get up at 5 a.m., write until 2 p.m. with a break for exercise and eating, work on other author stuff in the evening five days a week, and just write in the mornings on the weekend). It sounded ideal.
NaNo has also reminded me how important it is to work on the weekend. It's so helpful to be in the story every day. A day off throws my personal rhythm, and a day off makes it easier to take the next day off, and the day after that...I've learned that from experience, too.
So maybe I'm on to something when I can't think of a hobby I'd rather be doing than writing. And when writing becomes my career, I guess I'll be a workaholic, because I still don't think there will be something else I'd rather be doing.
However, when I get together with friends, I don't have a lot to say. I work at home. I write. I spend exceptional amounts of time in my own head, and a lot doesn't translate to casual conversation. I wondered if I'd backed myself into a socially dull corner.
And then I realized that most of my favorite authors—the ones who produce multiple books a year and who write almost as fast as I'm ready to read them—they've all talked about how they are workaholics, working seven days a week for the most part.
I've never considered myself a workaholic (quite the opposite when I worked in the corporate world), but with the recent ongoing experience of NaNo, I can see how I could easily fall into that category. I've been writing about 2 hours every morning before switching over to work. Those two hours fly by. If I could write all morning, edit in the early afternoon, and do non-writing author work in the evenings, I'd be a happy girl.
I was just reading about Janet Evanovich's writing schedule (get up at 5 a.m., write until 2 p.m. with a break for exercise and eating, work on other author stuff in the evening five days a week, and just write in the mornings on the weekend). It sounded ideal.
NaNo has also reminded me how important it is to work on the weekend. It's so helpful to be in the story every day. A day off throws my personal rhythm, and a day off makes it easier to take the next day off, and the day after that...I've learned that from experience, too.
So maybe I'm on to something when I can't think of a hobby I'd rather be doing than writing. And when writing becomes my career, I guess I'll be a workaholic, because I still don't think there will be something else I'd rather be doing.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
To Sum Up
Now that I've gotten back in the groove of writing (aka, I'm not rolling around on my bed moaning about how this book just doesn't work and my characters aren't believable, followed by flailing around various rooms—wherever Cody is so I'll have an audience, because pity parties are better with an audience—with long wailing sounds reminiscent of whale songs, and instead my writing time is filled with the sounds of the keyboard keys clicking away) I can take a more philosophical approach to the bad parts of writing a book. The wound is no longer fresh. The memory of the pain has receded.
So this quote, taken from Devon Monk's post on Deadline Dames, seems like a token of hope to me now, like the leftover chocolate chips in the bottom of the box after all the cookies are gone:
"I think as time goes on, writing becomes more predictably difficult, but the frustrations, bumps, glitches, fears, failures, challenges that you’re feeling right now never go away."
She also comments on how, while it is work, writing is and should be fun, but it was the line above that stuck with me. Yes, there will be times in the future where the blog posts become text tears and literary moaning again. It's inevitable. And in some way, that's very freeing.
So this quote, taken from Devon Monk's post on Deadline Dames, seems like a token of hope to me now, like the leftover chocolate chips in the bottom of the box after all the cookies are gone:
"I think as time goes on, writing becomes more predictably difficult, but the frustrations, bumps, glitches, fears, failures, challenges that you’re feeling right now never go away."
She also comments on how, while it is work, writing is and should be fun, but it was the line above that stuck with me. Yes, there will be times in the future where the blog posts become text tears and literary moaning again. It's inevitable. And in some way, that's very freeing.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
The First Sex Scene
Sasha is a romance of sorts. There are romantic elements, at least. I haven't pinpointed down exactly how I'll market it, but it's definitely a romance. Romance means sex. Since before I even began to write, I've been toying with how to handle the sex scenes. Do I have a fade-to-black sort of approach? Do I have a detail-by-detail approach? Something in the middle?
I've gone back and forth on this more times than I can count. On the one hand, I like to read romance novels with sex in it. That is, in fact, one of the top reasons I don't want to read YA romance/fantasy: no sex. On the other hand, my mom is going to read this book. So are my friends. I know that the sex scenes I read in novels are not pulled straight from the author's life, just as Eva and Justin's sex scene wasn't pulled from my life. But sex scenes are pulled from the imagination. The imagination can be a pretty private place sometimes.
Today I got to the first sex scene, and I decided to write it out. The whole thing. Each move, each sensation. To write what I would want to read. If I chicken out later and take a more Janet Evanovich fade-to-black approach, so be it, but at least I'll have this written so later I'm not coming up to a sex scene dry.
In fact, I was at my word count minimum at the start of the scene. The first kiss put me over 2,000 words. I considered stopping, but the echo of Laurell K. Hamilton's advice about writing sex scenes came back to me: don't start them cold. She's written often in her blog that she's learned to not stop writing in the middle of a sex scene, because it's hard to recapture the mood when she comes back to it. A very valid point, I thought. So I continued to write. The seduction had begun; I couldn't just cut it off there and hope that tomorrow would bring a similar mood.
Which is why I finished at 3,422 words for the day (over double the traditional NaNo daily word count)! I'm pleased with the choice I made, and though this sounds weird to say, figuring out how my main characters have sex told me a lot more about them than I thought it would. So hooray for getting a large scene down on the page, and hooray for adding new depth to my characters.
I've gone back and forth on this more times than I can count. On the one hand, I like to read romance novels with sex in it. That is, in fact, one of the top reasons I don't want to read YA romance/fantasy: no sex. On the other hand, my mom is going to read this book. So are my friends. I know that the sex scenes I read in novels are not pulled straight from the author's life, just as Eva and Justin's sex scene wasn't pulled from my life. But sex scenes are pulled from the imagination. The imagination can be a pretty private place sometimes.
Today I got to the first sex scene, and I decided to write it out. The whole thing. Each move, each sensation. To write what I would want to read. If I chicken out later and take a more Janet Evanovich fade-to-black approach, so be it, but at least I'll have this written so later I'm not coming up to a sex scene dry.
In fact, I was at my word count minimum at the start of the scene. The first kiss put me over 2,000 words. I considered stopping, but the echo of Laurell K. Hamilton's advice about writing sex scenes came back to me: don't start them cold. She's written often in her blog that she's learned to not stop writing in the middle of a sex scene, because it's hard to recapture the mood when she comes back to it. A very valid point, I thought. So I continued to write. The seduction had begun; I couldn't just cut it off there and hope that tomorrow would bring a similar mood.
Which is why I finished at 3,422 words for the day (over double the traditional NaNo daily word count)! I'm pleased with the choice I made, and though this sounds weird to say, figuring out how my main characters have sex told me a lot more about them than I thought it would. So hooray for getting a large scene down on the page, and hooray for adding new depth to my characters.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Supporting the Cause
Today, the Office of Letters and Lights, in other words, NaNo WriMo organizers, are holding a donation day to raise funds for next year's NaNo WriMo goodness. The goal is to raise $100,000 dollars in a day, which is a tall order for this organization of start-up authors. Of course, you can donate or buy things from the store for many days to come, but today's the day with the goal. If you like NaNo or you like debut authors, or you just plain like creativity, it's a very good cause to support.
I did my part by purchasing this lovely shirt:
You might note that this shirt says NaNo WriMo 2009 Winner. While I liked the participant shirt, I thought this one was especially fitting, since yesterday I topped 50,000 words. At this rate, November should be a 64,000-word month for me. What a doozie!
(p.s. Unlike the bar at the top of this page says, this book is so not 68% done. It's more like 45% done, but the word count doesn't reflect this because I have so much to cut from the beginning.)
I did my part by purchasing this lovely shirt:
You might note that this shirt says NaNo WriMo 2009 Winner. While I liked the participant shirt, I thought this one was especially fitting, since yesterday I topped 50,000 words. At this rate, November should be a 64,000-word month for me. What a doozie!
(p.s. Unlike the bar at the top of this page says, this book is so not 68% done. It's more like 45% done, but the word count doesn't reflect this because I have so much to cut from the beginning.)
Monday, November 23, 2009
My Title Is Taken
I'm always on the prowl, mentally and physically, for good book titles. I have difficulty thinking of great titles. For my novels, I want something that captures the imagination and pulls a reader in even if they've mistyped something while perusing Amazon.com and wound up on the wrong page. The kind of title that inspires at least a hesitation in the casual bookstore or Costco browser, makes that spark of interest ignite the impulse to pick up the book and flip it over to read the back.
That's a pretty tall order for a title. It's part of why I yearn for a fan club: so I can run contests for titles for future novels and have my creative title-gifted fans submit lots of ideas.
In the meantime, I rely on Cody and very long, tedious brainstorming sessions that devolve into self-mockery titles of unending length (which is also why I'm rather attracted to books with titles that never seem to end—somebody's brainstorming session led them down the path to that paragraph of a title, and the marketing geniuses at the publishing house went along with it: it's magic).
However, Russell Brand, one of my favorite comedians, stole the very best title for a book: My Booky Wook.
Yes, there have been several books with the same title, so I could still use it, but I'd hate to be the "not the Brand book, the other My Booky Wook, the urban fantasy novel." And, of course, in that daydream, for some reason "My Booky Wook" makes sense as an urban fantasy novel.
Anyway, the best book title out there is taken. I guess the only way to top that is to call my book My Booky Wooky, but that sounds like I'm trying too hard.
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