I am in the early phases of pre-labour on a new story. Writing about writing is something, I think, that writers SHOULD in theory be good at, and some are, but most of us just kind of sit here and mutter about processes and other arcania and hope you'll just go away so we can cry over our typewriters or keyboards and hope the next word will come.
But I'm going to spend a few hundred words expounding on my process, because I'm not revealing anything special or unique. I'm not explaining the magician's tricks. I'm just talking about me, which is a subject I suppose I've got specialist knowledge of, even if I don't care to admit it.
A year plus ago I wrote a story, which I have high hopes for. I'd say more but I can't. But inside that story was a character named Tessa-Five (so named because...well, that'd be telling, and there's a story in that too, so...) who was my first original character since college. And she sprung, like the Greek Gods, fully formed from my split open head and introduced herself to me. Actually, she sprung fully formed from my head after I saw a picture on line while I was researching methods of breaking facial recognition algorithms (don't ask...at this point I'm not even sure why, but it may have had to do with the story I was writing).
You know that line from the very first Night Vale episode from Cecil describing Carlos...you know, the scientist? 'And I fell in love instantly.'
Well, I fell in love with Tessa instantly.
And then I killed her.
Yes, that's a spoiler.
It destroyed me to do it, but for the story to do what I needed it to do, it had to happen. I agonised. I called in multiple friends/fans/writers and asked them for ways to get out of it, and after explaining the scenario, all of them sadly said it had to be. So I did it, knowing I was consigning someone with a backstory (which is hinted at in the story in question) to an end before a beginning.
Then I hit a drought, caused by depression, dysphoria, and other large words with a D. Basically stopped writing for the better part of a year and a half. When the engines finally primed themselves, and words started coming out...dribbles at first, then a trickle...it was mostly poetry. I've always enjoyed poetry, and so this was pleasant enough. I even played around with forms a little...I have a couple cantos finished or in the works, close to 3 dozen haiku, and so on. It's still challenging, and that's a good thing.
But as I've been writing, Tessa's been popping back into my head. I always knew I was never finished with her, because she has so many tales to tell. I know how she grew up, I know how she got her nickname...the last night or so I started to get pictures of her crew (best word to use without giving away more), and some characterisations. I even saw, in my head, her partner, and was lucky enough to witness a few scenes of really snappy dialogue between them.
And so there's a story coming.
It's not her origin story.
But it's a story that tells a lot about how she became the person she is at the beginning of the story I mentioned above.
And I'm excited to be ready to tell it.
My process is slow...the story has to burn before I can write it. It has to come from need...if I don't NEED to tell the story, if the story isn't invading my dreams and waking thoughts, it's not ready. When it's time, it's the only thing I can do. Music is key as the right music allows me to get into the right mindset for the right scene or sequence. And then it's just a straight through sprint from start to finish. It drains, but I've learned to expect the drain, and the drop off at the end where I wonder what's next.
I've woken up 2, 3, 4 am, written a 3000 word short, and gone back to sleep because the story needed to be told then.
It's all about need. Desire is lovely, but it has to be need. Burning, aching, almost brain in fire need. Without that...there's nothing.
What...you expected me to tell you how to write a story? I barely know how I write mine, other than what I wrote above. Do your own thing. Read a lot so you know the rules. Use the rules, then break them. Keep writing. That's all you can do. Try new things every time. Let people read your stuff and listen to their criticisms, because they're not as close to your precious baby as you are. Don't take a creative writing course...it'll only lock you into one particular way of writing.
And write.
Just write.
**NB: the chart/graph above is inaccurate on one count...the 'all the work while crying' phase extends past the deadline mark. I do love deadlines, especially th whooshing sound they make as they go whizzing by.
No comments:
Post a Comment