GENREALITY

Since I’m into trying new things with my writing right now, stretching my creative muscles and all that, I’ve been looking back at some of my own earlier stuff. That means some of the articles I’ve written as well as stories. I found a file from an online workshop on Writing Dynamic Scenes that I did a while ago, and it really hit home, so I thought I’d share the first part of the lecture here.

From the workshop:

I’m going to start with What does Dynamic Mean?
There are a few definitions for this word, but for our purposes it means “stimulating development or progress”. That definition is KEY. Dynamic scenes must move the story forward and/or show the reader something important. I say “and/or” because some writers will tell you every scene Must move the story or plot forward, but I don’t believe that. There is more to a good story, and more to a dynamic scene, than plot and story arc. Stories are about characters, and we should never forget that.

That means that a scene can still be integral to the story without actually moving the plot forward – but if it doesn’t advance the plot then it has to have another purpose. Character development for example. Description is not a valid purpose. Showing us what a normal uneventful day is for your character is not a valid purpose. If you have a scene in your story where the heroine is showering or doing laundry, she better be having a revelation of some sort that is important and stimulating to us as a reader while she’s doing these things. Make sense? (feel free to ask questions in the comments if you need clarification)

This may seem stupid, but the first thing you need to do to write a dynamic scene is ….write the scene.

Yes. Seems like something I shouldn’t have to tell you, right? Well, I’m telling you this is the first step because too often writers, old and new, get too wrapped up in thinking about what they ‘should’ or ‘should not’ be doing to write freely – and writing freely is a massive component for writing dynamic scenes. You can’t ensure a scene is dynamic until after you’ve written it, so free your mind of any rules or restrictions, stop thinking so hard about using descriptive words and sparkling dialogue and just write!

This last paragraph is what really hit home with me. You see, in trying new things lately I’ve started to really doubt my own skills and storytelling ability, and it’s stalled me. I’ve sat and stared into space or at my laptop, I’ve walked for miles thinking about what I wanted to write. I’ve gone to sleep and woken up thinking about storylines and plot holes and where I want my new project to go.

I’ve put so much pressure on myself to ‘get it right‘ that I’ve forgotten the first step in doing that is ‘get it written‘.

Funny how it’s sometimes so hard to remember the simplest of lessons.:oops:

My friend Britta Coleman (Potter Springs) teaches a class called The Art of Re-Writing. I call my class Revision Hell. I suppose it’s a bit of perspective when it comes to writing. She’s one of those people who doesn’t mind how long it takes to make a book perfect. I just want to get it done. Once I’ve written that first draft, I’m pretty much ready to move on. That may be why, even though I write fast, I also write tight that first time.

That’s not to say I don’t have to go back and fluff and puff, as I like to call it. In my revisions I usually need to flesh out scenes and characters a little more. I add texture to those scenes by using the senses more. I also search for those words I use too much and I look for any inconsistencies in my characters.

In truth there are about 30 different things I’m looking for when I go through revisions from bunny trails (going off in strange directions and not bringing it back to the story) to nice nice (a conversation where nothing is moving the story forward). Revisions are a daunting task for me, which is why I take them in small bites. I usually focus on just 20 pages a day as I look for all those things, and in about two weeks I have polished manuscript ready to go.

But that’s my process. You may go about it in a different way. That’s the cool thing, there’s no right or wrong way. Wait, there is a wrong way: If you don’t do them at all.

We say you should write at least a little bit each day, and I find that with revisions too. It just makes it easier to take small patches and clean them up, rather than trying to plow through the whole thing. There are time when I do closer to 50 – 100 pages of revisions in a day when I’m on deadline, but I try to make myself stop somewhere between 20-30 at the most. I know I get tired and careless after that. Though, I do find I can do 25 pages in the morning, take a long break, and do another 25 at night without killing myself.

In truth, I love spending more time with my characters, I just don’t like having to make sure everything is polished. But I do, of course. I have some published writer friends who turn in very rough drafts to their editors. That isn’t for me. I always worry the editor will wonder, “What was she thinking?” Those writers tell me they know there are going to be revisions so why worry about it. I want to make the editors job as easy as possible so she will love me.

Like I said, turning in something really rough is not for me. During the three revisions I made myself do on the YA before turning it over to my agent, I added over 75 pages. My last Blaze I wrote, She Who Dares, Wins, I added more than 30 pages. Like I said, I have a lot of fluff and puff to do after that first draft.

There are also people who revise as they go along. I understand they want a really clean first draft, but it doesn’t work for me. I don’t want that internal editor in my creative process. That IE can make me second guess myself and there’s a good chance I would never finish a book if I did that. And honestly, I think these people are fooling themselves. Most writers don’t know how to perfect those early chapters until they finish their books. And many of them still end up doing at least one pass on revisions.

Everyone has their way of working and as I said before no one way is right. But psychologically I know it’s best to take big jobs a little at a time. You know that horrible saying, “How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time?” It’s true.

So how do you handle tough tasks? Do you barge right in and hope for the best? Do you do the hard stuff first and then the easy?

Tell me, I really want to know.

What are stories made of? Kites and strings and dragonfly wings. Snakes and snails and puppydog tails. Daydreams, nightmares. Hopes and scares. There’s a lot written on how to write, but where does what you write come from?

It comes from a thousand things you’ve forgotten, from the passions you had when you were five and fifteen and twenty-five, from the stories that captured your imagination and the heroes you identified with, from your hobbies and even from hated assignments you were once forced to suffer through. Anything you’ve ever cared enough about to love or hate is writing material. Injustices that make you seethe are fair game. So are triumphs that make you want to crow. So are all those things that excite and move you but you know nothing about so you’ll have to do some research.

Writing what you know is far too limited. Writing to discover has an infinite horizon. But don’t forget what you know, all the deep truths that come from your lifetime of experience. I know there are monsters under the bed and that creatures can come through mirrors at midnight. Don’t pester me with logic and flashlights. Monsters disappear when you shine lights on them. I know there are endless worlds populated with strange things, and that a whole universe lives in a drop of water. I know the sky can fall and just when you think things couldn’t possibly get worse you’ll discover how much imagination you lack. I know there aren’t always happy endings but it’s not over until it’s over, and every day is another day to write another chapter of your life story. I know heroes are resourceful and determined. I know evil exists from the banal to the monstrous. I know the human capacity for generosity and achievement is miraculous and we don’t give ourselves nearly enough credit.

What do you know? What do you fear? What do you wish, hope, dream, imagine? What horrible or beautiful thing fascinates you? What makes you laugh? What makes you pull the covers over your head? What do you wish you understood or knew more about? What do you wish you could unlearn and forget?

Stories can be structured with all kinds of neat tricks, but the raw stuff of stories is messy as hell. Don’t try to tidy it up. Don’t write the safe story anybody else could think of, the obvious choice anybody could see coming a mile away. Don’t write comfortable and smug stories that couldn’t scare anybody or move anybody to tears or laughter. Write what’s real and true to you. That’s what stories are made of.

Since I’ve been sharing about my own issues lately, and because I’m not quit ready to talk about any new projects I might be working on, I’m going to share more of my journey with you. This past week I was going over my own blog posts from the past few years, just sort of reliving my past career path, planning my future and thinking on what I want from my career…some of my old posts really resonate to this day. This one was written in March of 2004, about two years after I started writing. Rereading it did my heart good, so I thought I’d repost it…see what y’all think.

I never planned to be a waitress all my life, but just after I turned 30 I realized it could happen.
Read the rest of this entry �

One of the more interesting writing classes I’ve taken over the years was one that taught storytelling with Tarot. Before that, I didn’t know Tarot had anything to do with stories, or that you could use Tarot as a tool for plot, character, and more. Even if you don’t have access to a live class on the topic, there are excellent resources online for learning card meanings and basic spreads.

The Tarot deck tells the story of the Fool’s Journey through life, which translates to the hero’s journey in fiction. But wait, there’s more. Each card in the deck tells a story in itself. Beyond that, some cards represent character archetypes while others represent plot turning points. And each card tells its story in symbols and images, the language of the right brain, making the cards a great tool for bypassing the left-brained critic and accessing your creative side.

All of this makes a Tarot deck a great writer’s tool. Even choosing a deck is a creative adventure; I recommend looking at several to see which artwork appeals. I bought a deck intended for children that depicts fairytale characters and scenes on each card. Each deck’s visual interpretation of the cards will vary and one will suit your storytelling style better than another so it’s good to compare.

Once you have a deck, you can use it for multiple creative exercises. You can simply draw a card at a time, and see what story the image sparks. What story would you tell yourself based on what you see? Do a timed writing and tell the story in 5-15 minutes. Lay out a series of cards and see what characters and events jump out at you as you connect the cards into a single story. Then write a brief story summary.

If you are stuck on your story at any stage, go through the deck looking at individual cards to see what images jump out at you. Your non-verbal right brain can use the visual tool to point out what you’re missing; a type of character, a twist, a dramatic event or choice. Or you can pull out a handful of cards that appeal to you and play “what if”. What if I add this kind of character to this scene or story? What if I move the scene to a setting like this? What if I add an element from this image? What if I do a combination?

There are so many ways to use Tarot as a tool to jumpstart creativity and access your right-brained insights for story solutions that I could never list them all. But the next time you find yourself stuck or if you just want a new tool in your box, try Tarot.