Recently I looked back over all of the TFAIW posts I’ve made over the course of the series because I’ve had a subject in mind and I wasn’t sure if I had already done an article about it. Lo and behold at the very bottom of the list sat the incredibly generic and unassuming “Tips From An Impatient Writer #1.” Catchy name, isn’t it? The “article” was actually a two paragraph blurb about how hasty writing sucks, so writers should slow down and think things through.
I really, actually cannot believe I only wrote two paragraphs about that, seeing as it was and still is the problem that has plagued me the most as a writer. Incidentally, it’s the problem that I also seem to finally be getting a handle on after all these years. So, without further ado, I will finally provide you with a more lengthy and experienced examination as to why writing with patience yields the best results, and how to take that time to make sure your work is the best it can be.
It’s never perfect.
That’s right, and I’ll even say it again: never! Even the best writers of both the modern age and of history would tell you that there is always room for a tiny improvement in even their best works. Given this, how on earth could you expect your novel to be stellar if you don’t even take the time to do it right? Many of the greatest classics the English language boasts took years (perhaps even a lifetime) to put together and went through several drafts at least. For someone like myself, I find it incredibly difficult to not just slam out exactly what I want to say because I want to step back and look at what I’ve finished as an entirety before I begin the polishing work. While this can be effective, I have to admit it may not be the best process for creativity. I realize that everyone is different, but I’d like to think that I’ve learned enough from my mistakes to help you avoid them. So I’m going to provide a little list of things that I’ve been using to help me slow down and be more thorough:
Think.
So you’ve come up with a great idea for your next chapter
(or even your next novel) and you’re excited to get going on it. I’ve found that ideas are just like babies; you have to let them develop fully before they take their first breath, or they come out in danger of not making it past some difficult stages later on. You should, without a doubt, jot down the idea right away (see below) so that you don’t forget it, but you would be best served by said idea if you let it stew in your brain for a little while before you put it to paper; it will save you quite a bit of laborious editing and possible omission later.
(or even your next novel) and you’re excited to get going on it. I’ve found that ideas are just like babies; you have to let them develop fully before they take their first breath, or they come out in danger of not making it past some difficult stages later on. You should, without a doubt, jot down the idea right away (see below) so that you don’t forget it, but you would be best served by said idea if you let it stew in your brain for a little while before you put it to paper; it will save you quite a bit of laborious editing and possible omission later.
Plan
This is a step I neglected for literally (yes, I know what I’m saying) three-fourths of The Color of Darkness, and therefore it took me probably a year longer to finish than it should have. The creative process is mystical and wonderful but it is still a process, and some things just can’t be thrown to the wind if you want a well-developed story. Now that I know this, I’ve tried a few different methods: I’ve tried outlining the entirety of a novel, I’ve tried breaking down chapters into bullet-points, and I’ve even tried doing a paragraph-by-paragraph at one point. What I’ve found works for me is to lay out what I need to accomplish in a novel, and then take it one major plot point at a time. What I mean by that is that when I’ve thought about the ideas I’d like to communicate, I write down, in order, what ways in which I will use plot and characters to accomplish my goals. For example, when I finally got around to outlining the final five chapters of TCOD, I laid out a point-by-point list of the things that needed to occur in order to bring the novel to the close I was looking for. Doing so also helped motivate me to finish; there’s something exciting about putting the last pieces of the puzzle in place and knowing exactly how the whole deal will play out in the end.
Keep a journal.
There’s this cliché that follows writers of the Moleskine-cover notebook in which we divulge our deepest secrets and jot down every oh-so transcendent thought. While the stereotype is a little annoying, you can’t really document interesting things to replicate in your writinf if you don’t actually write them down in the first place. Sure, you can just try to remember the things as they happen or words as they are said, but even the most attentive of observers will lose something now and again. Because I don’t have the desire to tote around a 1940s era satchel (it’s obviously too big for my vintage-style bicycle) I simply carry a small, eighty-page spiral notebook and a pen wherever I go. It fits in my pocket no bigger than my wallet or a cell phone and I can fill it with anything that strikes me right at the moment. You don’t have to go all “dear diary” to keep a journal, as long as you’ve got something to write on you’ll do just fine. You can fill the journal with events, quotes, descriptions, etc. and then go back later and pull your favorites for your next chapter. It’s really fun to use journal “entries” as little writing challenges, too: did you see an elderly woman with a blue mowhawk with a horse-sized Labrador on a leash? Try to write her into your next chapter!
Go back. Often.
One mistake I see new writers make a lot is that some of the details of the narrative are changed throughout the novel. The guy who had “light-brown” hair at the beginning of the novel has “sandy” hair in chapter three. Spellings of names may change slightly. Locations shift. It isn’t a big deal because all of that can be fixed with editing, but I believe that when you go back for changes, you should be revising, not editing. Let’s face the music here: the average writer isn’t going to have an editing staff at their fingertips, so let’s assume you will be doing all of that yourself. If you take the time to make sure the details are correct the first time through, you can focus on larger and more important elements of the plot without having to stop every few paragraphs and double check whether your details are accurate. It only takes a minute to go to a previous chapter and double check that every thing lines up. It would be even faster if you kept an easily-accessible list of names, locations, and descriptions for you to reference.
Do your homework.
I know, no one likes homework. However, in some regards you must think with the mind of a journalist when it comes to laying the scene of your novel. Take From: Colorblind To: Happiness for example: I don’t live in Phoenix, Arizona. Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure I’ve never even been to Phoenix. When I chose Arizona as the backdrop of the novel I began researching the city from top to bottom. Demographics, weather, maps, landmarks, I even looked at satellite images of several neighborhoods and schools to try and get a feel for the area. It would be wonderful to spend a week or a month inside the city and really get a feel for it, but I’ll have to sell quite a few novels before I can reach that level of immersion in my storytelling (nudge, nudge!) When it comes to the research, don’t skimp. People who actually live in the real version of your setting will instantly feel more connected to the story if you pick up on the local vibe. Same thing goes with subject matter: if your character has a disease, learn everything you possibly can about it. Talk to people who know your subject. Heck, even jump on Yahoo Answers or Reddit and ask people questions. The broader the field of knowledge you have, the more you can play around with the specifics down the road.
Invest yourself
This is perhaps the most important piece of advice I can give you when it comes to your writing. Ask yourself: what is my writing worth? It’s (usually) not a dollar amount. It’s the culmination of all of the efforts and hardships and victories that you pull from your own life and passionately deposit on the page. It’s every night that you were up until three A.M. tapping away at they keyboard. It’s every time you crumpled yet another piece of the story that doesn’t fit and tossed it in the wastebasket. It’s every time you went back and laughed out loud at something that you wrote, amazed and surprised that it turned out better than you ever thought it would. Your writing is an extension of you; invest yourself fully and deeply in it! There is no room for half-assing it when the very fiber of your being is poured out and will eventually be shared with an untold number of people.
Maybe that’s what I’ve been trying to say all along: when you ake the time to make your writing the best version of what it could ever be, you’re telling yourself that you can be the best… no, will be the best storyteller that you can be. When your words have the potential to affect the lives of others, there is no room for shoddy work!
I wish I had known that a year ago…
Until next time,
-AK
