Getting Started - Again
Victoria
Grossack
If you read any of these columns during the first half of 2008, you would
have noticed a theme: editing. (If you missed any of them, you can go
to the archives here.)
These articles were inspired by the fact that I was personally in serious
editing mode, revising a long novel.
The months dedicated to editing were extremely joyful. I experienced one
of the most profound creative buzzes of my entire life, in part because I
truly believed the work was good. There’s been confirmation on the part of
our test readers and our agent (the manuscript is currently being marketed
by our agent).
I took off a couple of weeks, slept, ate, exercised, vacuumed and did
some necessary paperwork. Now it’s time to start the next book. And this
column is focused on this issue: getting started – again.
Why is it so hard?
Beginning a new project is not always difficult. In fact, inspiration may
lead you to write. However, for some people it’s challenging – particularly
after finishing a long project – and I think it helps to figure out why.
Here are some possible reasons.
- What I was writing before was wonderful; what I’m writing now stinks.
For many people (me, at least) first-draft writing is rarely good – which is
why I’ve devoted so much effort to developing editing skills. However, after
working on a polished manuscript, it’s disconcerting to see the rough and
raw sentences appearing on the screen.
- I don’t know where the story is going. Although I generally have
some of the plot worked out – usually toward the end of the book – when I
sit down to begin, many parts of the story remain unclear – including the
beginning. It’s not usually that I can’t think of a beginning to the story.
Usually I can think of several beginnings, and I don’t know which one to
choose.
- I’m not inspired. Inspiration comes to many, but not to
everyone, and certainly not on demand. What can you do to encourage it?
Write scraps
The first thing I do – that I have to do – is give myself
permission to write poorly. I don’t even include “chapter” or “scene” as
part of the initial file names but will instead use the word “Scrap.”
Somehow, calling these passages “Scraps” helps remove the pressure. (If you
remove the S’s on either end of the word scraps, you’ll get a pretty
good description of the quality of these beginning drafts.)
Give your internal editor a vacation
I have to send my internal editor on extended leave. My internal editor
is the critical voice within me, which continually points out that I am
telling instead of showing, that I have just contradicted myself, that the
thing before the last period wasn’t a complete sentence, that a particular
character would never make such a statement. My internal editor can be
especially annoying, even questioning whether the section I’m working on
belongs in the story! All these observations made by my critical voice are
absolutely accurate – but they’re not completely unhelpful. Temporarily
banishing this judgmental part of me is difficult, because I encouraged it
so much while editing. I have to escort it over and over to my mental door,
for like a nosy neighbor, it keeps popping around and refuses to get the
hint.
I also need to remind myself that the story will improve, as I work on
it, as scraps develop into scenes, when I edit and revise. This is
difficult, because what is showing up on the screen is truly terrible. It’s
almost a matter of faith – and remembering that I have gone through this
process several times before.
Write what you can
I usually have general ideas about the story but don’t have all the
scenes in my head. I’m going to assume you’re the same way. The trick here
is to write what you can. Unless you’re writing for a serial magazine, like
Dickens and Trollope in the 19th century, or for a series on television, you
don’t have to write in order. Perhaps you know the end best. Perhaps you can
see and hear the middle. Write what you can, and build from there. Thanks to
computers and word processing programs, moving blocks of text is much easier
than it was in the past.
If you can’t think of a word, use the four star technique described in an
article by another writer for Fiction Fix, in which you simply insert
four asterisks (****) for the word that won’t come to mind. This allows you
to keep going with the broad strokes of the story instead of getting stuck
on a particular word.
Or, if you don’t want to work too hard on a portion of the story which
you’re not sure that you will keep, you could write like this:
Helen: Go with you to Troy? But, Paris – I’m already married!
Paris: So? Come with me anyway.
Helen: All right.
Describe of sneaking out of Sparta.
Absolutely everything is wrong about this little passage. The dialogue is
stilted. It’s told with colons instead of quotes and attribution. But it
gives me an idea of where the story should go. It’s a start.
Seek inspiration
I suppose there are writers whose story ideas appear fully formed in
their brains, or else we should never hear about them. I am not one of these
writers. Developing the story ideas takes real work, especially when I’m in
the initial stages.
Here are some of the tricks that have helped me get going.
Go on a trip
Some people recommend taking a trip in order to get yourself out of your
normal rut and get some extra stimulation. This may help you. For me,
traveling is often conducive to generating and working through ideas – but
for completely different reasons. Travel is often full of time where there
is little to do but think, such as sitting in airports or waiting for a
train. My last big space of dead time came just as I was starting this new
project. My husband and I had a drive of about nine hours, and, especially
after the sun had set, there was little to occupy my mind besides the new
project. So I spent much of the drive contemplating it. And I made mental
progress on the plot, taking note of opportunities and of pitfalls. When we
finally reached our destination, I quickly typed up the ideas into my
laptop.
J K Rowling evidently had a similar experience. She was on the train
going from Manchester to London when the idea for Harry Potter first came to
her. Evidently the trip – which seems to have been delayed – gave her some
good thinking time to work out ideas in her series.
Rituals
Sometimes a ritual can help you get started. I sometimes meditate, or
move to a certain part of the house, or turn on a bit of classical music.
Then I put the laptop on my lap and open up a document file and start
typing.
Motivation follows action
Often starting is simply best achieved, by, well, starting. You
have to sit down and write what you can and trust that the motivation to
continue will follow the action. As this has been shown to be
psychologically true in many situations, there’s a fair chance that
motivation and inspiration and will show up after you start writing.
With respect to the rituals and the motivation following action, I like
to think that I’m preparing myself for the appearance of my Muse. My Muse is
a busy being, with many demands on her time and energy, so she only goes to
people who welcome her, who comfort her, who show attention to her. Other
times I think of her as the last person to show up at a business meeting.
Set goals and keep track
I usually aim for 1000 words a day, and keep track of my progress in
250-word increments. This means that for each 250 words of progress that I
make in the manuscript, I give myself a in my to-do list. I know that
they’re probably not the right words, but I deserve credit for the effort.
The story is important and you are the only one who can write it
Some stories need to be told. If you feel this way about your opus, then
that should be an incentive to keep on writing.
People are waiting for your writing
This may or may not be true. In my case, it actually is true, because my
co author is certainly waiting for the first draft, and our agent (with a
much greater time horizon) awaits the final. If you don’t have an agent or a
collaborator waiting for your manuscript, you can join a writing group so
that people expect to read your work.
Remind yourself that you *like* writing!
I remarked to a friend how difficult and uncomfortable this initial stage
of writing on a project was. She gave me a peculiar look, and said: “But you
like writing, don’t you?”
Her words forced me to look at myself and laugh. Much of my complaining
and doubts are generated by personal tendency to refuse to be joyful even
when things go my way. It’s as if I believe that being happy will jinx being
happy. Strangely enough, I forget sometimes how much I want to be a
storyteller. I have to remind myself that I like it – and that the groping
periods are followed by times of great satisfaction – and that even the
groping periods can be wonderful! For the groping periods are filled with
discoveries, as my hands reach out and discover new ideas and plot threads
and bring them to light.
The end of the beginning
When I started this column, at the beginning of June, I had about three
thousand words written on my new project. At the beginning of July (when I
send this article to the editor of Fiction Fix) I already have nearly
forty thousand. Plenty of them will need to be changed, certainly, but
still, the scenes are taking shape. I also have a much better sense of the
overall novel. I’m nowhere near the end – I may not even be at the end of
the beginning – but I’m at the beginning of the end of the beginning.
And that, in itself, is an accomplishment.
Questions? Comments? You want to use this article? Write to me at
grossackva at yahoo dot com.
****
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