Don’t Look Back…You Might Trip

I’m coming up on a year since being signed to write my first novel, and nearing the end of said novel (at least the first draft…editing doesn’t count here). Writing can be daunting, demanding and draining (yay alliteration!). The more you talk about what goes into it, the more people wonder “Well why would any sane person subject themselves to that?” The easy answer is that we’re not sane! Honestly, sometimes it is easy to get overwhelmed with the negative, taxing aspects. So I thought I’d take this week to be one part nostalgic and one part optimist.

The best kind of optimist to be

This one goes out to all of the struggling, aspiring, and questioning writers out there. What follows are some of the things that keep me plugging away when it would be easier to just walk away from the keyboard.

Anyone who writes will tell you the muse can be a fickle mistress. She is many things, but consistent is not one of them. I often find myself reading over a first draft, wondering how I can make sense of a scene or make a conversation (my dialogue is usually a train wreck the first time I write it down). Or sometimes I’ll realize I’ve written myself into a corner, or glossed over a fairly substantial plot hole. (Those will kill your alignment if you drive over too many). Then my muse will see fit to allow me a flash of inspiration. It might be while I’m running, in the shower, cooking or whatever else. In that moment an idea forms that makes it work. It shows me something I hadn’t thought of or shows me the way out of a mess of my making. It’s unpredictable and almost illogical, but there is magic in those moments, and that flash always sends me scrambling for a pen and pad.

As writers, most of us are at least occasionally plagued by some self-doubt. We wonder if our story is any good, if anyone will read it, or if there’s still a slice of pizza left in the fridge. (There never is). When those questions pile up, it can make us question why we’re writing in the first place. As if in answer, there are nights where the story just seems to flow with a life of its own. I’ll sit down to the keyboard, and my world of words is at my fingertips. The characters speak to me and scenes flow together naturally. It’s almost as if the story exists already, and I’m just the conduit bringing it onto paper. It’s a world only I can tap into, but it comes together so seamlessly that it has to be real. If I wasn’t meant to be a writer, I wouldn’t be able to do that. In my mind it is proof that I was meant to tell this story, and that knowledge helps calm my fears and loosen my death grip on what’s “supposed” to happen next.

The last thing isn’t technically part of the writing itself, but it has been integral to my experience. I was signed by a budding publishing house (I was the third author to join on) and saw it grow to several dozen authors and staff members. All of us were working towards sharing our stories with the people, and that lent a synergy to our interactions and individual efforts. I wasn’t doing this alone. Others were in the trenches too, and we became a family that praised, supported, and celebrated the large and small victories together. The experience spoke to me. It said “You’re not that weird…well you kind of are, but you’re not the only one!” Writing is a solitary endeavor, but you don’t have to travel alone. Having others around me doing the same thing inspired me and reaffirms the beauty and importance of our craft. You don’t need anyone else, but it definitely makes the trek more enjoyable.

I could keep rambling on, but in the interest of not boring you I’ll wrap this up.

All wrapped up!

Objectively writing can seem like a lot of pain for very little gain. For every J K Rowling or Stephen King in the world, there are countless others who will never make a fortune or even a living spilling their souls onto the page. It takes a special kind of person to do it anyway. And that’s why we do it. Maybe we’re not special, but it’s who we are. You can dress that up in as many fancy words as you want, but that’s the essence of it. It feels right to follow your calling. Even if you don’t know where it’s taking you, I strongly urge you to follow it.

Or do this

I’ve got your Back(story)

In real life and fiction, everyone has a backstory. And just like in real life, you don’t automatically learn someone’s backstory after a casual meeting or chance encounter. Think about it. When’s the last time you dug down and spilled details going back to your childhood to anyone you just met? That level of trust and comfort has to be built up before those disclosures feel natural. So the question becomes “How do you convey this to the reader?”

I can’t speak for all writers, but when I first started I had to know basically everything a character had done prior to the beginning of the story, and the reader needed to know that too. How else were they going to understand this character’s complex motivations and deep-seeded biases? Oh, and my story had a cast of twenty plus heroes from various planets and factions. It got cluttered pretty fast. So in the spirit of learning from my mistake, I would advise you to avoid info dumping backstory on the reader. In some cases it can be done, but too often it kills the pacing of the moment. Picture this: the hero has just hacked through a horde of mooks. The only one left standing against him is another swordsman; the hero’s childhood rival! They both grip their swords, eyes locked on one another. The wind goes still. Then the hero recounts their twelve year history together. All that tension you just built is out the window.

Now let’s assume you’ve found the perfect place to drop some backstory for a character. Next you need to decide what to share. Unless you’ve set up a situation where it wold be natural for someone to give their life story (such as a public address or a self-centered monologue) you’ll have to pick and choose. So what makes the cut? I’ll answer that with another question; what does the reader need to know? Firstly, what do they need to know so that the plot makes sense on a material level? Next is what that backstory can do for your world-building purposes. Finally there are things that are not instrumental to the plot, but help establish a character’s details, some kind of tension, or the ground work for later drama.

Think back over your life story. Odds are you’re picturing school, family, some important relationships and milestone events. Maybe not all the times you sat at the table eating cereal. Give your characters the same treatment. Anything you share should serve some purpose (such as the three I mentioned above). If I’m not sure whether to keep a detail in the story or not I run it through several questions. Does it serve one of the above purposes? If I remove it, how will it impact the scene and the story? Is there a different time or method to share this information more effectively?

Did I mention I never liked peas?

Even if a revelation is perfectly valid, the timing needs to be right. If you establish your gunslinger is also a fencing champion then it makes sense that they would dive for a sword during the final battle. If you don’t reveal that fact until the sword is in his hand, it starts to feel like deus ex machina. It’s a little too convenient that this wasn’t revealed until this exact moment. Note that if you have foreshadowed this (by mentioning an old trophy or a piece of gear lying around for example) without explicitly saying they are a swordsman, it can still work.

The last major factor in how and how much backstory is revealed is point of view (POV). In a third person omniscient POV the narrator could be privy to all of the details at any time. There is a bit more freedom regarding what “naturally” fits into a scene. At the other extreme, if you have first POV, the narrator knows only what they have experienced or been told. That knowledge is also more likely to be incomplete or biased. The important thing to note here is that the backstory is being told through someone else. Imagine if you had to tell someone else’s life story. How much detail would there be? For a character, the details they remember and the way they share them (using judgmental labels or jumping to conclusions about motivations) can be just as telling regarding their own personality. In first POV it might be more common for backstory to be shared in a context specific way. If your narrator gets into a fight with someone, it would probably be natural to mention the other person was a professional boxer.

Just like the rest of writing, there are those who love to plan out details in advance and those who love to wing it. Winging bits of a backstory can put you at risk of a deus ex machina moment. I have found myself guilty of this a few times and had to go back and make additions to set up a scene later. And honestly, that’s okay. Your characters are probably going to surprise you. You just created them, it’s not like you control them (all the sarcasm). As long as the backstory fits the character in the present, the details can be settled later. As humans we can’t change out past. As writers, we can do whatever we want.

 

Open the door, let the Write People In

While editors, agents and publishers do their part, the actual writing of a book is basically a one man show. That can be both liberating and terrifying. I know my response was equal parts “Yay, I’m free to do what I want!” and “Oh God, I need an adult!” (The fact that I am actually an adult is irrelevant) But fear not, you are not truly alone! Though writing may be a solitary effort, you may surround yourself with those who may ease the journey if not the actual work. So why did I scare you with that one man band talk? Because I’m evil. Just kidding…mostly. I say that because sometimes yes, you will need help. Other times help is the last thing you need.

In his book On Writing, Stephen King advises authors to “Write the first draft with the door closed, and the second with the door open.” (Booby traps and claymore mines are optional) I would like to expand on that idea and share my thoughts on this using the metaphor of the writer as a band.

I like to think this is how that band looks

When writing the first draft the idea is the idea. Just get it down on paper and don’t worry about how it looks. It will be messy, ugly, rough and full of stuff that makes you cringe. It’s like the band rehearsing while they’re still writing the song and getting ready to record. This is not the time to show it to anyone. You don’t know the story well enough yet and it’s really not mature enough to go wandering about on its own. It probably still giggles at fart noises. This is where you figure out what story you want to tell.

The first draft probably looks more like this

Once the first (or second) draft is written, it may be time to open the door just a smidgen and let a handful of people through. These would be your beta readers (or technically alpha readers if the work is not finished yet). By now you know what story you want to tell, but maybe you’re still working out how to tell it. It’s like pitching a demo to a record label. The whole album may not be ready, but you have a taste of your sound that is ready to share. (At this point the band-author metaphor might get kinda shaky, but I’m committed so bear with me).

Now when you’re hip deep in the editing process you may need another opinion. I liken this to a band’s agent, who helps them get their sound onto an album and into a concert (I have no idea how it works, but that sounds right). By this point your book is basically done, with only edits on minor points left to be done. It’s still in the beta reading phase, but you’re looking for more focused critiques. The story is set, but the details are still workable. At this point the door is open. The work can stand up for itself and not be crippled by another opinion. And, perhaps more importantly, you are confident enough in your story to let it speak for itself in the face of criticism or suggestions to make changes that you know will not work for the story.

Eventually your work will be finished (I have faith in you). It’s been edited and you’re ready to share it with the world. Then there is no longer a door involved. At that point you’re on stage performing a concert. It doesn’t matter if you’ve sold one ticket or one thousand, you can’t change anything once it’s out there.

The biggest advantage to the door being closed is that it’s just you and your thoughts. Nothing to distract or lead you away from your own vision. With the door open you’ll get a lot more attention (some of it useful). But most importantly you’ll get perspectives you couldn’t get on your own simply for being too close to the work and having all of the background knowledge that you do. Something that seems perfectly obvious and logical to you might mystify someone else. In my case I’ve had people ask me about patterns or possible origin themes I didn’t intentionally write in. Whether I use them or not, I now know one way people might interpret my story and I can use that to my advantage. If you’re aiming for a certain reaction from your target audience, this can help you see how close to the mark you are.  As for me, I like to leave the door mostly closed. I put a sign up to tell people I’m working, but I leave it cracked so my dog can still come in and say hi whenever he wants. This isn’t adding to the metaphor anymore, but I wanted an excuse to show off my furry writing buddy.

What do you mean, personal space?

Write Club: Do you talk about it?

Fairly often, I’m asked “How’s the writing going?” or “How is the book coming along?” by people who know I write and I always have an internal moment of panic. Like tiny men frantically scrambling, looking through file cabinets for the right response (that’s totally how brains work, right?). I could say that it’s coming along (since I’m adding words to the story), I could respond in terms of progress (like how many chapters in I am) or I could launch into details about what’s happening in the story (which most people just aren’t ready for, let me tell you). But I’m hesitant to share when I’m really having a tough time (the exception being my writer’s group, because we’ve all been through them). For any number of reasons writing is really really hard sometimes. I don’t talk about it to my non-writer acquaintances in a conscious attempt not to focus on the negative aspects, but they need to be acknowledged somewhere. So here it is; my confessions of my writer problems and reminders to myself of how I push through them (in the hopes that maybe you’ll find it useful, applicable or at least entertaining).

The weirdest thing to me was that writing usually isn’t the problem with writing. The problem is life. I know how jaded that sounds, but bear with me. Sometimes you have a rough week with unexpected time commitments. Some days are just mentally and emotionally draining. I know after eight hours of research and number crunching for a paper, I don’t really want to look at a computer screen anymore.

Sometimes life is the enemy of your writing efforts, and that’s okay. And most importantly, you never owe anyone an apology for that.

Whether you want to change your writing habits (or even talk about them at all) it is 100% up to you, but nobody else should ever make you feel badly about them.

My dad asks me about writer’s block whenever the subject of my writing comes up. Usually phrased as “do you ever worry that you’ll run out of ideas?” My response is that (for me) writer’s block isn’t about running out of ideas. It’s about how to transfer those ideas from your mind to the page. I worry if the idea is good enough, or if it makes sense, or what readers might think. My response to myself is to just write whatever you have and don’t worry about it being good. It may not be. My first drafts rarely are and I don’t expect them to be. But here is where many of us fall into the trap. The trap of speaking as if everyone’s problem is the same as ours; and by extension that the same solutions will work. Speaking from personal experience is just that: personal and not universal.

He tried to warn us

 

As I passed the halfway point on my WIP I started to worry that my narrative was losing consistency. Did I have the same voice I started with? Do my characters really have an arc? Is the plot advancing in a logical way? There is no easy way to sum that up to convey to someone. For most of these things, a look at an earlier part of the work can shed some light. Some I can look at and “fix”, and some I can’t (mostly because I’m too close to see the work objectively with fresh eyes). This may be one of those cases where it’s okay to talk about a problem you can’t personally address as long as you understand that. In my group we often vent to each other about writing and non-writing issues and just getting it out and having it validated by others can be therapeutic, even if the problem in question hasn’t changed.

Problems happen in writing and every conceivable aspect of life. Some you can fix and some you have to roll with. I humbly suggest you try to keep it all in perspective. See problems as opportunities to find creative solutions, to test your resolve or to reach out for a helping hand (or two, or a pair of eyes, or another brain, although I suggest you bring the whole person with it). Instead of saying “I’m stuck in the plot” I say “I’m trying to figure out how to get my MC from A to B while conveying X and resolving Y”. See and talk about your problem as an obstacle towards a goal beyond it. Knowing where you’re going comes before figuring out how to get there.

The way you talk about something affects how you view it and how you view something influences how you respond to it. And I suggest talking to others about it as a start. I tried talking to myself about it and it was not nearly as productive.

 

Old (un)Reliable

Narrators. What’s the deal with those guys? Thinking they have the audacity to rate things. I mean, I’m so self conscious I’ll just rate myself and cut out the middle man. *Cricket noises* And now you see why I’m not a stand up comedian. Actually I’ve got bad knees so I’d be a sit-down comedian *more crickets*. Well at least the crickets think I’m funny. But I digress.

There was a discussion in a writing group a week or so ago concerning narrators and it got me thinking about the spectrum of reliable vs. unreliable (reliability here meaning the reader can trust what the narrator tells them is true or accurate). At one extreme you have omniscient third POVs that are probably as reliable as they come and at the other you have first POVs (or very close third POVs) that are only as reliable as the character in question’s knowledge. After some pondering I came up with a few key concepts about narrator reliability.

I distinguish two major ways a narrator can be unreliable; honesty and distortion. An honest unreliable narrator (apart form being an oxymoron) is one that is unreliable primarily due to a lack of information. This is in play in those cases where we as the reader did not know something because the character we are following did not know something. This is probably more common in first POV since we are learning along with the narrator. By comparison distortion is unreliability through perception or interpretation. Characters sometimes act on assumptions which may be flawed. This includes anything from prejudices, past experiences and simply leaping (slightly more dramatic than jumping) to false conclusions. A third (okay I lied about two) minor way is through omission. For example a scene is described but a detail is left out either because the narrator didn’t notice it or the author intentionally left it out.

Sometimes this is done for the sake of the narrative. To invest in a character the author needs the reader to buy into their motivations.Its easier for the reader to relate to a character working hard with good intentions than to watch the MC work for the entire story in the wrong direction. It feels a bit pointless if know the effort was in vain from the start.

As mentioned above, sometimes the narrator is unreliable only because they don’t know any better. They appear reliable until new information suggests they were in the dark. In this sense any narrator that is not omniscient is unreliable to some extent since their knowledge is limited. On the other hand sometimes we know our narrator is unreliable. Maybe we have information from another POV or we can see the character isn’t seeing things clearly. If done well it can make the character more relate-able, but if over-done they may come across as oblivious or close minded.

As for my own WIP, it is in first POV so the narrator is unreliable mostly due to his limited knowledge. But there are also times where his (somewhat paranoid) assumptions about the events around him are distorted. The reader may stop and say “You’re thinking waaay too deeply on this, dude” making him unreliable by distortion. As a reader sometimes you know you think you’re getting the full picture and other time you know you aren’t, but you don’t know what is missing. Both can make strong contributions to a narrative.

There is no objectively better or worse way to handle reliability. It comes down to personal opinion and what fits the narrative best. For my part, when the unreliability is obvious to the reader for too long it becomes frustrating. Sometimes you want the reader to question what the narrator tells them and review what they are told with a critical eye. Sometimes that questioning can snap them out of the story. My best advice is to be intentional about reliability. Whichever way you lean, do it for a reason that fits the story you are trying to tell. I think everything beyond that is subject to opinion. Of course you’re free to agree or disagree with my opinion on opinions…opinion-ception…okay, I’m done…I think *cricket noise* The cricket gets me!

 

How to become Bat(making)man: The Creation Process

This week I’m switching gears to highlight my crafting efforts (which also gives me an excuse to show off this cute little guy). I spent about three hours last week fiddling with the design and actually assembling this little guy and it got me thinking about how my creative process changes between writing and crafting (you can see the results of said crafting efforts here).

See, I made a bat! I’m a man who makes bats…I’M BATMAN!

First a brief overview of my writing process: I make ideas, then make words. Is that too vague? Fine. I usually start with an outline of the next set of major plot points (battles, conversations, revelations and new locations) with a list of bullet points beneath each one. The bullet points usually cover more specifically what will (or might) happen in that scene, points to get across, pieces that are building up to something that the reader may or may not know about yet, and notes on characterization. It’s a great organizational tool for complicated scenes where I’m afraid I might forget a brilliant addition before I get to writing it. Then there are plenty of times where I write the outline, then largely ignore it.

The biggest difference between my writing and creative approaches is that when I’m creating, I’m using materials and supplies that can’t always be re-used. Once you coil a wire, you can never fully straighten it again. This is especially true for things like the leather scraps I use. You may never get another piece quite like that one, so you’d better make the first one count. As a result of this, as much as half of the creative process involves me sitting or (usually pacing) staring at the raw materials. Transitioning from design to construction can be tricky. In most cases I know how most of a design will fit together, but there is a new element or combination  haven’t tried. And I never start building a piece of something until I know how the whole thing is going to fit together. Part of that is a personal preference but part of it is also practical. If you’re designing two pieces to fit together, you should know what they both look like before you start on either one (or be willing to start over if you change the design after you’ve started part of it).

Like an outline, I usually start a design with a vision (either something new or a variation on something old). Sometimes the images are pretty darn precise. And they are rarely what the final product actually looks like. Plenty of things that look good on paper just don’t work in practice. Sometimes they don’t have the effect you imagined, there was some detail you didn’t account for, or it’s just too darn hard to assemble it the way you planned (and there’s no shame in changing a design that will save hours of head banging and expletives). Sometimes it looks completely different from when I started, many times it looks better.

Case in point: This was intended as a proof of concept, and not only is it my favorite canvas, I still have it on my wall and I have done almost a dozen reproductions for clients.

Sometimes it isn’t at all what I pictured, which can be disheartening. But beauty is in the eye of the beholder. A client doesn’t see your vision, they only see the finished product. So that comparison only exists in your mind. Every artist has to balance the pursuit of perfection with the sense to know when to step away from a project.

I think that unpredictability is my favorite part of the creative process. It’s a constant reminder that my imagination is often two steps ahead of my conscious plans (and it seems to enjoy flying in the face of those plans too). To me it is a healthy reminder that art is not an exercise in control. Sometimes lots of planning is needed, but in the end I feel as if I am the medium through which inspiration flows. I tap into something and give it life, but it doesn’t jut come from inside of me. Sometimes that spark needs to be nurtured and fed, and other times you just need to get out of the flames’ way and try to keep it from burning down the village. Metaphorically speaking…usually.

Give Me a Break…A Chapter Break

Writing is one of those things with so many little elements that are easy to lose track of. I am a relative novice, but my confidence has been growing (and you know what they say about confidence and falling…I guess it throws off your balance). Still, working with others with more or different experiences than myself, I find myself catching details I had never paid much attention to, then realized I probably should. The most recent example of this was chapter breaks, and since it has been on my mind you all get to read about it. Lucky you!

I’ll be honest, in the beginning I really considered chapters to be more of an artificial division than anything else. When I first started my WIP I wrote my chapters roughly aiming for a target word count of 5k. I aimed high, thinking a good chunk of it would be trimmed or cut out during editing anyway. Part of this ties back into my implicit love of outlining (even when I largely ignore them once I start writing). I would outline plot points and guesstimate how much would fit into a chapter. If it all fit, great! If not, make room or bump a scene to the next chapter. Problem solved, right?

Well a beta reader recently commented to me that my chapters were on the long side and noted possible scene breaks where a chapter could end. When I looked back over my work I realized the chapters were probably longer than they needed to be (although this is a subjective call influenced in part by genre/audience as well as an author’s style). My more recent chapters began to take on a more organic nature. They ended when it made sense for a chapter to end. Sometimes it’s at the end of a scene, sometimes it is placed as a mental breather for the reader to digest what they have just read, and sometimes I place them at cliffhangers because I’m evil (read: I want them to keep going).

I started thinking about it from the perspective of a reader, and that was a turning point. Many times have I been up later than I should reading and when I get to the end of a chapter I flip ahead to see how long it is. If it’s another forty pages it’s probably time to call it a night, but if it’s less than twenty I’ll think “Well I guess one more couldn’t hurt” (like I’m really fooling myself there). At least some of my readers will probably be in the same position, so word count should not be the final determination (duh).

So now my chapter length varies. I think my shortest one is about 3.5k, but it’s pretty heavy on plot and tension so the reader (and the characters) deserve a break after that stretch. For me I could just tell when it felt like that chapter should end, so much so that I discarded my previous word count goal to let it end there (after some convincing from other authors that it was perfectly okay to do so). So while genre and audience are important, your story and your gut should be the ones to make the call. Not literally with the gut though. If I ended  chapter every time mine said something to me I would have chapters of 300 words and a lot more crumbs on my keyboard.

Structure and Flexibility: Why a Book is Like a Bridge

As I have mentioned in a previous post, writing on a contracted timeline was a huge transition from what I was used to (which was extremely lazy and undisciplined if I’m being honest). After about six months of work on my current novel I’ve gotten the art of writing more consistently (mostly) in hand. One of the biggest lessons in this regard has been the battle between structure, flexibility, and trust.

Structure comes into play in two big ways; planning the writing itself and planning when I spend time on my writing. Outlining used to be my go to method for approaching plot. I would endlessly use bullet points and sub-points to organize and order how things would fall into place. I soon realized that while this is great on paper (pun intended), my story yields to no one and no outline (and thus my inner pantser begin his inexorable rise to power). Planning when I do the writing was surprisingly easy for me. My brain kicks into creative mode late in the evening, which happened to be the best time for me to work without interruptions and without major time constraints (who needs sleep, right?) While I have written earlier in the day at times, it takes more effort to get me going and to sustain the effort. Consistently I am a writer of the night.

This is totally what I look like while writing

Flexibility comes into play when structured planning collides with real life. I know of several writers who give themselves a certain number of “cheat” days each week or month, and I have started falling into that mindset. Creativity doesn’t always follow a schedule and life is nothing if not unpredictable. Besides the practical side of making sure I meet my deadline each month there is the mental side of letting myself relax (aka shutting up the voice that yells at me to be productive every day). The moment writing starts to feel like an obligation is the moment to step back and take a deep breath. And exhale too. Exploding isn’t going to get your writing done either.

That flexibility leads into trust. After six months I am learning to trust my abilities and instincts as a writer, and that translates into trusting what I can accomplish. Even now I step back and look at my printed manuscript and think “Wow, did I really write all of that?” It helps confirm my self-identification as a writer. There is also the less tangible idea of trusting my story. I try to write to chapters by plot and how the scenes are playing out, but I find that I have not given myself or my story enough credit. There is enough there to let the story tell itself. There is enough in terms of plot and characters without needing to “pad” the chapters. And I’m sure my editor will call me on it and cut it if I do; a good editor is part bloodhound and part axe murderer…absolutely the sort of person you want to work with, I promise. The story needs to take precedence over the word count.

Productive Procrastination

I thought this topic would be fitting for two reasons. Firstly, last night I found myself almost incapable of starting the next chapter of my novel. Secondly, I had no idea what this blog post would be about until I sat down to start writing it. My pantsing tendencies are starting to bleed into other areas of life. Today I am here to make a pretty controversial claim. Procrastination is good.

Perhaps I should elaborate before I am pelted with rotten fruit and bricks for my blasphemy. Procrastination CAN be good*

*Void where prohibited, certain restrictions may apply

As writers, or creative people in general, there will be times when we just can’t bring ourselves to write. We’re all human (I’m assuming), life happens. Sometimes we’re feeling burned out, sick or just not feeling the whole writing thing that day. Maybe your muse is on a union break. Just the other night I was recovering from a really long day and did not have the mental reserves to piece together a particularly complicated scene. So I put it away. Then I heard that intrusive voice saying “You’re wasting time, you should be doing something productive.” Since then I have been thinking about ways to fill that writing time with non writing things (and shut that little jerk up).

Reading! Words are important, books are full of them! (And now you know why I’m not in sales). But as a writer, reading is absolutely essential. Just like your body can’t survive eating the same food every day, your mind needs some variety to be at its best. For all the time you spend creating your own world of words, you should also spend some time exploring other worlds. Of words. Unless you can literally travel to other worlds, in which case you should totally do that. It doesn’t matter if it’s related to your writing. If your mind is stimulated, it’s time well spent.

Beta reading. This is something I recently picked up doing. It started as an exchange with another author, but I quickly realized how much more I was getting out of it. It’s like a hybrid between writing and reading. You’re following a story, but you also have a chance to offer creative input (see my previous post on beta reading for my full length ramblings). It’s also a great way to network with other writer types and get some social support, which is a big deal coming from a hermit like myself.

Now we come to what I did instead of writing. You can always outline, daydream or spitball stuff that probably won’t survive the first draft of your work. For example, I’m going into a scene that is the start of a big revelation for my MC. It’s too much info to be dumped on the reader at once, so I started making a list of all the facts that will eventually be revealed or added together. Just by listing ideas I already had I was able to start connecting a few dots and adding new details. You can even start a separate word document so it doesn’t feel like it’s supposed to fit with the rest of your work. I went back to writing the next evening and those notes made the scene feel doable instead of this amorphous blob of ideas.

This is what it looked like before my notes.

My last suggestion is to try working on something else. If you have an old unfinished piece somewhere or an idea that hasn’t yet set foot on the page, give it your attention for a little while. It’s a nice way to keep flexing the writing muscles. I’ve done this a few times when I really needed to write, but editing was up next on the to do list. Look for a writing prompt, indulge in a fan fic or whatever tickles your fancy. Even if it’s not the story you were planning, you’re still writing.

So these are all things in my mind that are good ways to spend some time that was earmarked for writing. As long as you’re doing something that benefits you as a writer, I think it is time well spent even if it wasn’t how you planned it. See, my inner pantser is showing again. This list isn’t comprehensive obviously. Feel free to do whatever helps you. For me it’s about silencing that nagging little voice and proving to myself that I don’t have to be productive every single moment to meet my goals. I’ve had my share of off days and surprises, but I haven’t missed a deadline yet. So take that, nagging little voice! And on that note, I rest my case in defense of procrastination; a case that called the gelatinous cube to the stand for testimony. I would make the best lawyer ever.

Laundry Day: Airing out Dirty Little Secrets and Weird Habits

It’s like that funky pair of underwear that desperately needs washing, but you’re too ashamed to hang them out on the line. I’m talking about dirty little secrets; little things you’d feel better about if you could admit them out loud but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. )Thanks to the power of the internet I can do this with relative immunity from your judgment) I suppose technically these are more like weird little personal habits, but that doesn’t make for a catchy post title.

Lists. I feel like I have to make lists/outlines with bullet points and everything when I’m planning my writing, even if I don’t reference them when I’m actually writing. I think it’s partly for getting my thoughts organized. But there is also this underlying fear that if I don’t get the thoughts down somewhere they will slip away. There may be some truth in this (I can’t be certain since I write basically all of it down to stop that from happening), but for me it frees up more brain space. It’s almost as if my mind is saying “okay, it’s on the paper to keep that info on file instead of me, so we can focus on other things”. Yes, my mind is like some sort of under achieving middle management-type apparently.

Listening to music. There’s some sort of paradox at work here. I sometimes use music to drown out white noise and give my brain less potential distractions. It helps me get into my writing zone. But once I’m in said zone, I shut the music off because it’s distracting. Like it’s only distracting in one mindset and not the other. When I’m not writing I sometimes use music to flex my creative muscles and explore my characters a bit. When I hear a song I think to myself “if this were a music video featuring my MC, what would he be doing?” If it’s a driving or intense sort of song it usually ends up in a battle sequence, which is business as usual for him. But every now and then I come across a great song (at least for character purposes) that doesn’t fit with his usual MO. Just the other day I stumbled across Disturbed’s cover of Sound of Silence. The slower more contemplative style got me thinking about regrets he might have or frustrations he has with the current state of things. For me it’s rare, but every once in awhile a lyric from a song will inspire a situation or philosophy to work into a story. When my inspiration comes like this it is rarely in the form of something tangible or concrete. And speaking of inspiration…

Finally, there are the weird things I do for inspiration or to help flex the creative muscles. One of the most relaxing and rewarding ways for me personally to spend my down time is setting up dioramas with models or action figures. They give me a more tangible, visible medium to work with and they always lead to a story. Take the example above. It’s not enough to show a damaged fighting robot. I have to know how he was damaged, what was the outcome of that battle, and what next? These lines of thought leads to little daydreams that may never make it into an established story line, or they may inspire some flash fiction. Either way, they are a great way to flew the creative muscles without having to worry about the results being usable.

So what was the point of all these things? Wait, was I supposed to have a point? Oh crap! *falls out of chair*

*regains composure* We all have unique things we enjoy, and that uniqueness is compounded when it comes to writing or anything creative. Whatever gets your creative juices flowing, indulge it and embrace it. As long as it’s not killing people or anything, I can’t be held responsible for that sort of behavior.