So you outline the story, write the first draft, let it sit on the backburner, revise it, let it sit some more, revise it again, send it out to friends for opinions, revise it again. . . . ( Read more... )
Write fat and revise lean. Which is say, if you know you need one telling detail at one point, but not which of two (or three, or four) telling details is best, write them all. And when you revise, you can chose which one is best in cold blood.
It is, however, somewhat depressing to realize that sometimes you have to revise fat and then revise again lean, because the critiques complained about not enough of the setting and back story, and it's a little too difficult to juggle figuring out where you could put it and where you should put it at once. Best to figure out the locations and then chose one. sigh
Of course, there are times when it is easy to drop one thread and move to the next. That is, when the thread hasn't caught on fire.
So I sit staring at the sheet of paper trying to figure what any of them are doing. Even when all -- let's see, both sets of knights, the royal official and his men, the sorceress/thief and the band of sorceresses, and the cultists -- six factions all started out with clearly defined motives that are passionately desired.
Fortunately what this story smells of is dramatic irony, so I have the prompt: who could woefully mistake what someone else is up to? And the side-issue of keeping all six of them yoked together into the same story helps. And that I know there are two more factions involved, so I can herd them all toward where they can hook up with that one.
Yesterday I dropped the outline I had worked on on Monday and outlined a completely different story. And last night I dropped the story I had been writing on Monday to start the story I just outlined.
It's a bad habit skipping from work to work as inspiration strikes. Very easy to get a pile of stuff that never gets done. You have to train yourself to circle back, and back, and back, and see if the inspiration decided to come back when it was ignored. (And if that doesn't work, sit down one day and re-read the pile. In one swoop. The effect can be startling.)
On the other hand --
Today I finished the outline I worked on Monday.
Which is the sort of thing that keeps me jumping from idea to idea.
Was working on an outline and pondering the process. . . .
Another thing an English teacher would not approve of in my outlines is -- you know how you are supposed to put things of equivalent importance on the same level? Forget it. Sometimes I write down the details of a dialog exchange, or even a perfect, gemlike line of dialog. Sometimes a scene gets a sentence.
Leads to one less than pleasant consequence: I can't estimate how long a story is based on how long an outline is, except in the loosest terms. A novel outline is longer than a short story one, but I can't really tell how long a short story will be, based on its outline. Or worse, whether it will fall in the Unpublishable Void of lengths, when you can't sell it as a short and can't sell it as novel, and no matter how gem-like in perfection it is, it's not going to get out.
One writing technique I've found useful -- well, a meta-technique -- is don't try juggling your techniques until you've mastered them.
I devised a rule for myself at one point: write fat and revise lean. If I needed one telling detail at one point, and I thought up two, I would write them both down unless one was obviously better than the other. Then I could revise in cold blood. That way, I didn't have to try to be descriptive and judgmental of my own descriptions at once. Much easier than sweating to remember that perfect telling detail that I had discarded in the first draft.
And there was a time when characters wouldn't tell me their motives in the first draft. 'Sokay. I wrote down what they did, and then on the second draft, I put in all their motivations.
Actually, neither rule gets much use now. I find myself writing the stuff all in the first draft. But then, I've had a bit of practice while applying the rules.