I’d like to welcome the lovely Rosemary Clement Moore to the blog today. She has something incredibly fun, educational and helpful in store for you.
Thanks, Candy, for letting me play in your space today. Since it’s November, I wanted to share something earth shattering I learned from the concise little book, No Plot, No Problem, written by the founder of NaNoWriMo, Chris Baty.
Seriously. This is was a breakthrough idea for me. Ready? Here’s what you do.
Draw a line down the middle of a page to make two columns. (I’ll wait while you do that.)
At the top of one put: Things I love in books. List all the things that you love in a story. Do not edit yourself. No matter how trite, cliché, cheesy, un-feminist, un-macho, or what your mother would say about it… put that on your list. (For example, I love witty verbal fencing between the hero and heroine. Also, books with dogs.)
Got it? Okay. Title the second column: Things I hate in books. List all the things that turn you off, bore you, or make you throw the book against the wall. No matter how classic and erudite, or how popular or trendy, write them down. (My example: I have an arbitrary dislike of present tense, despite many wonderful books being written that way.)
Remember! These aren’t things that are bad writing, just things that you don’t like. The whole point is, these are subjective. Your may love something your best friend hates, and that’s okay. Neither one is “wrong.” (For both lists, it’s more useful to list general things rather than specific books/authors. If you dislike a book, try and figure out why.)
Okay, so now here’s the complicated part. Sit down and write your book. Put in everything (well, maybe not everything) you have on your “love” list and don’t put in what’s on your “hate” list.
What happens sometimes when we write–All of us!–is the inner editor says: That’s a dumb idea. That’s cliché, no one likes that but you, you freak. And in the other ear, the inner English Teacher speaks from the part of your subconscious where she’s been living since the ninth grade and says, “These things you hate make great literature. They are Worthy and Important. You just hate these things because they’re Good For You.
(Or alternately, your inner bookstore clerk will say: Everyone loves Lovelorn Vampires except you. What’s wrong with you? Do you hate kittens, too?)
Oddly, when I do this exercise in writing classes, the “hate” list seems much easier for people than the “love” list. I think that’s because we’re so conditioned to look for flaws, but we’re so busy thinking about what makes “good writing” that we may dismiss our personal fancies and passions as unimportant. But what could be more important? These are the reasons we write.
The first draft of any novel, whether you write it in a month, year, or decade, should be a selfish thing. As an author, you first need to entertain, enlighten and stir your own soul. Because, trust me, if you don’t enjoy your book, no one else will. Second drafts are soon enough to cull the clichés, or rein in your id (or ego) and amputate that scene you love so much but doesn’t advance the plot.
Funny thing is, when you write about things that tickle you, please you, and move you emotionally, it’s going to be a better book, because your love of the material is going to shine through. And here’s another secret. Whatever it is you love in a book, chances are, you’re not the only one.
