Plotting

October 16, 2007

Pre-Planning Your Novel and Getting an Agent

You won't believe it and I don't either. An agent -- a real agent with a good reputation and a nice roster of clients -- once contacted me after reading one of my short stories to find out if I had representation and, if not, did I have a novel he could see?

And this is even more unbelievable: I never wrote him back!

Oh, I always meant to. I composed many letters in my head, clever little things that usually involved my offer to sleep with him if he would hang around until I got around to starting and finishing my novel. I tried a few real letters, but none of them could overcome the fact that No, thanks for asking, but I do not have a novel.

My mother raised me better than this. At the very least, I could have written him back to say I have never been so flattered, overwhelmed and encouraged in my whole life and of course I'd be glad to sleep with him for that alone. Actually, that's not exactly what my mother would want me to say, but you get the idea. Common courtesy would have dictated that I write this genius, this most brilliant of all agents, back to say a mere "thank you" and "can I send you one if I ever write it?" But no.

For my excuse, I was having a bit of post-partum depression and he probably wouldn't have wanted to sleep with me anyway.

So why am I telling you all this? If you want to know how to blow-off an agent, ask me. If you want some encouragement on getting an agent, visit David McMahon's authorblog. Today's post (or maybe it's tomorrow's -- he's in Australia) touches on that question as well as a question I asked him a while ago about how he pre-plans his novels. I think you'll find it interesting reading. Penguin Books is putting out his next novel, which is due on Halloween.

October 07, 2007

Picking Up the Pieces

When re-visioning (re-imagining) your novel, do you use the pieces and parts you've already produced, or do you start over?

Some of that stuff was very good. I remember that! It was hard, too.

But it wasn't good enough to drive me from beginning to middle to end.

So, I'm not even going to look at it. No sir. When I'm done, I'll look at it. I can always recycle then, but I doubt that I will.

My old story is new again. And I'm not going to make it a Frankenstein monster by trying to put together the pieces that another person (me at a different time in life) wrote.

Just my approach. How about you?

September 28, 2007

How to be a Plotter and a Pantser at the Same Time

Plotters plod along writing their books until they get to type "The End." Can you tell just how jealous I am here? Trouble is, for me, being a Plotter would be a plodding experience -- I write to find out what happens next. If I already know, there's no excitement in my writing (or my life). If I already know the ending, it's hard to keep  writing.

But isn't it always hard to keep writing?

Actually, Plotters know what's coming and if that's their nature, that's the right way for them to write. And when I said they "plod along," that was out of jealousy. I promise. Plodding along would be a very speedy pace for me and my writing right now. Plodding is much, much faster than going backwards, or nowhere. So, to all my Plotting friends, I envy your map. And your dizzying progress!

Rebecca at The Writer's Round-About is doing a great series on this very thing and the pitfalls of each approach. She calls them something different, but she's from Australia so what would you expect? And since she's a plotter, it's all organized and tidy and in six parts.

Since I'm a Pantser, no telling when I'll decide to write about this subject. Right now I'm trying to get some vague ideas going about my novel, because I'm going to start writing it on, let's see, let me pick a date here. How about October 15 for a random number?

I'm going to Pantser it, which means I will take to drink and probably eat a lot of brownies. (Actually, I don't drink because it makes my heart race and is NO FUN at all. Used to be my hobby, too. And you know what? I don't miss it a bit and spend the money on roses for me since the idea would never, ever occur to my husband, though he has bought me rose bushes so I can grow my own.) But I do eat brownies. They help in the encounters with the deep darkness inside where my best writing comes from. It is a most scary place in there. Sometimes I don't even have a flashlight.

There are two sources of fear when you're a Pantser: one is the fear of what you'll find coming from that place where you dream, and the other is the fear that you won't find anything. You might call this a no-win situation. I call it writing a novel and why I experience novel struggles.

But here is why I think it is valid: We all dream. Our minds can create amazing dreams. These same powers of creativity in us can dream a novel. I want to write from there, and I've found a teacher who reinforced this idea, although I was never his student.

I heard Robert Olen Butler speak once (I'll be talking more about one of his books soon). He didn't want to tell us this, but we forced him suggest how to get organized as if we were plotters without killing the dream. Here are the notes I took from his answer to that question. It's essentially his suggestion for how to write from the place where you dream and still have some structure (a life raft) to cling to. I call it How to be a Plotter and a Pantser at the Same Time.

  • Come to your work FIRST THING in the morning. Do not skip a day as you could lose the dream.
  • Before starting your novel or short story (your dream will dictate which), spend eight-12 weeks watching your characters in different scenes. Write six-to-eight word descriptions of what you see, but don't break out of the dream.
  • Write these descriptions on note cards. Keep the ones that feel authentic.
  • While in your early morning dream state (when you work), order these cards to come up with the order of the scenes in your book.
  • Take the first card and start writing.

The cards can be re-ordered, added to, subtracted from or ditched altogether. And when you critique or edit your work, don't do it as a literary critic, but from the dream state. Don't rewrite. Re-dream.

If I haven't made sense, I'm sorry. I don't truly understand it either. But I believe it.

What's more, it's from this place that I believe that you can hear God's voice. I pray he gives me a story.

September 20, 2007

Plotter or Pantser?

Sorry it's been quiet here! I was on the wrong side of a deadline (it had passed) and I was knocking myself out to get  a paying piece out of the door. It's gone now, and though there are others in the in-box, this blog -- and my novel -- are important and so here I am.

I need to pick a date and post it at Novel Goal for when I start writing, and also exactly what my goals are. Baby steps! I tend to be too ambitious and then it shuts me down.

And I need to get in gear here with my pre-novel planning. I said I would have a month for that. Time is passing. What is my pre-novel planning?

Are you a plotter or a pantser (seat of pants writer)? (And is that pantser or pantzer?)

My friends in my writer's group all seem to be plotters. They have colored sticky notes on boards posted on their walls. I'm not sure how their systems work, but I'm sure I could turn it into a great procrastination tool. As a disorganized person, I also think I would get stuck trying to remember which sticky note color meant what and make a mess of the whole thing anyway.

I think writing  would be a much less harrowing task if I had plotted my novel all out before hand. I've tried this. And there are a couple of reasons why this method doesn't work for me.

First, writing from an outline is like work. Here's what you have to say, now say it. I get paid to do that, and though I do it well enough to get paid to do it again, there's not much room for my soul in this process. I have never been good at writing from an outline. In school, when they try to teach writing by teaching you to outline first, that was always a disaster for me. I can't write to an outline. I usually would end up writing the piece, then outlining what I had and turning that in. Very useful, huh? That whole outlining exercise.

I sometimes have clients that want me to do an outline first. I'll do one, with the warning that what they get may not fit the outline. But I promise that it will be much, much better -- and it is.

Then again, a scratchy, sketchy outline can be a good prop to keep me from running off into some kind of panic that puts me in a fetal position. I'll be 30 pages along and I don't know what happens next! So just kind of a sketchy thing (for some reason it has to be really disorganized looking -- handwritten with none of the lines running straight so I don't feel trapped) with a few possibilities for if I get stuck is what I use. Just to keep going for the next day or so. This sketchy thing doesn't take me all the way to the end and in fact only covers the next couple of events.

But the most important thing, for me, on why outlining or advance plotting doesn't work is that I can't write deeply from an outline. When I was in my MFA program, I spent one semester mentoring with Sharon Sheehe Stark. Now, when you mentored with somebody, you had to send them a packet every month containing two short stories (one could be a revision, the other had to be new) and two novel reviews, plus an explanation of what you were trying to accomplish and whether or not this was working. I was working full time and had had suffered a miscarriage. I was a mess but was so committed to my writing (and the program) that I pushed on. But I was afraid. I didn't know what I would find in that dark place inside me that was screaming with grief. I couldn't write from there. It was too soon, it was too bloody. So, I thought I would try something different. I came up with a story, plotted it in my mind and then on paper, and wrote the thing. Not too bad! I thought I had found a new way to write. Little wear and tear on the author, either.

I will never, ever forget Sharon's response to me. I don't even need to refer to it. "Very clever, Anne, and I don't mean that as a compliment. Every part of this story read like you knew what was going to happen from the beginning, except for one part."

And here I'll interrupt Sharon. There was one part where the story deviated from the outline and my heart took off running, spilling out words and images that were actually thrilling and authentic, perhaps even original. Sharon spotted this right away. My hair stood on end as I read her note. How could she tell? How did she know what part was pre-plotted and what part had spilled out on its own? They didn't look that different to me.

But she knew. And she was right. She told me that I didn't care about the characters, was not in touch with their deep emotions and that I was forcing the story. (How else to get them from point A to point B?) She told me to throw away everything but the one, spontaneous part of the story. Wow!

Then she went on to say, "You are stealing from your own excitement. You have taken the heart out of your story."

I thank God I had her that semester, and that she was gifted in seeing the truth of my writing and the truth behind my writing. It's much more difficult to write this way because it is scary. And there are many dead ends and false turns along the road. I will kill more trees than my plotter friends.

But this is what it takes. I need to trust that the mind that can dream such vivid and interesting dreams while I am asleep can dream vivid and interesting stories while awake. I'll try to help it along, but I'd better not try to tame it. I just hope I have the courage for this adventure without a map.

What about you? How are you going to write your novel?

Update: A wonderful, detailed post about this very subject -- and more to come -- is at The Writer's Roundabout. Well worth a visit!

Technorati novel struggles favorite

  • Help me in my struggles! Click below:
    Add to Technorati Favorites

Click here to read short fiction

Writer Interrupted