Multiplicity, Thy Name Is Writer

 

I did one of my rare teaching gigs last month. I taught a class called Putting the Thrill in Thrillers. In it, I make time for the class to do a writing exercise. They're given characters, setting and a plot (one of the Seven) and told off you go. It was a successful endeavor, the class scribbling madly for ten minutes, and when put on the spot, many shared their first lines. I was quite pleased and proud, because it's a difficult exercise, and they did quite well.

After, I was doing a stint at mentoring and suggested that the writer take her flash piece and expand on it because it truly had legs. I was astounded when the woman dismissed my advice, saying, "I already have a voice in my head. I can't add another."

Astounded, because I can't imagine not having a bloody chorus of characters screaming from the recesses of my gray matter, all day, every day. Right now I'm writing two novels and a short story, plus socking away ideas and building Scrivener projects for the billions of other ideas that worm their way through.

I'm used to juggling the voices, to telling one to shut up so I can listen to another. It sounds downright schizophrenic, and it is, to a certain extent. You know the dark joke I always tell - writing is simply controlled psychosis. Successful writing is being paid for that controlled psychosis.

But in all seriousness, I do remember back to the time when the idea of doing more than one thing at a time was frightening. I was working on the first Taylor novel, and the head of my critique group kept pestering me to try writing a short story. I had that same deer in the headlights reaction - I can't. I can't deviate from my Novel to try something else. I'll get pulled off track. I'll fall into the abyss and never return. I'll never finish anything. The men will come to my house and find me quivering in a corner, a trail of half eaten sandwiches strewn throughout the house.

But all that is simply resistance, rearing its ugly head. Of COURSE you can work on more than one thing at a time. And if you want to be a successful author, you'll have to master that skill. There is a constant juggling act going on in most authors' lives. Writing one book, editing another, promoting a third - that's the standard for anyone on a one-a-year schedule. Multiply that by two for two-a-years, etc. Not only writing your books, but being asked to contribute to anthologies. Blogging and facebooking and twittering and newslettering. All of this takes time, and a concerted effort to stay on track.

We are all getting Ph.D's in multiplicity. It's the nature of the beast. So do think about adding in one or two of the other voices in your head, allowing yourself fifteen minutes a day to explore what they have to say. It's excellent training for later, when you're answering to multiple people, for multiple projects. If you want to succeed at this business, you've got to learn how to juggle. 

Be Revolutionary

 

 

Stewart Copeland, the drummer from The Police, talks about creativity, being revolutionary, conflict and the artist's vision. This is a must-watch for all creatives. I've watched this three times and pulled something new each time. Pay special attention to Copeland's thesis of being revolutionary. I truly believe that's how we differentiate ourselves, a willingness to take chances, to disregard what's safe in favor of what's unique. I also enjoyed his ideas on what it's like to be the "beans in the can", on display for all to see while depending on yourself to create your path. Superb viewing. Enjoy!

Also, Copeland's book is called STRANGE THINGS HAPPEN: A Life With The Police, Polo and Pygmies. Check it out.

 

Best Links of the Week

Avoid the Trap of "Productivity Porn" Oh, I am so guilty of this. Great advice. Sometimes just being aware of a bad habit in order to break it.

Crimes Against Woodworking | Blog | Smart Bitches, Trashy Books | OK - ROFLMAO. It's LAVE, not LATHE. Find out the difference here.

What Moment Will Change Your Life? I love this - she put aside her own worries for a moment to help someone else, and it changed both their lives. A lovely inspirational story for your Sunday.

Every child is an artist. The problem is staying an artist when you grow up. ~Pablo Picasso

An Incomplete Guide to Not Creeping | John Scalzi | Great conference etiquette mandates. I'm always shocked by how people invade your space and don't take the hint if you're clearly uncomfortable. And really, sexual innuendo with women you've just met is a serious no-no. Espceially the married ones. It's just plain creepy, and not gentlemanly.

 

Finding Your Voice

 

I was listening to the audio recording of LOVE IS MURDER in the car the other day. I will admit with no hesitation that I skipped directly to my story, THE NUMBER OF MAN, because I was curious to see what I sounded like. Yes, yes, ego-trip, check. Trust me, you’d do the same thing.

Because having someone else read your work is fascinating.

I think voice is the most important element of writing. It is also the most elusive. Voice is what makes you unique. It’s what sets your story apart from the other 70,000 books published last year. It’s what keeps reading coming back for more, what helps them feel like the characters are their friends, or at least someone they’d like to know. It’s why series are so popular, and why standalones can be so incredibly gripping. Good voice is like a whispered secret directly from the writer's brain to yours. 

Thematically, there are only seven basic plots in the literary world. Each has to do with conflict. Each can be manipulated in many forms, but they boil down to these seven:

  •       Man versus Man
  •       Man versus God/Religion
  •       Man versus Nature
  •       Man versus Machines/Technology
  •       Man versus Self
  •       Man versus the Supernatural
  •       Man versus the Environment

You’ve heard people say there isn’t anything original out there. This is why. So if all stories fall within an agreed upon set of parameters, what makes them different? How is it that you can give five writers an exercise – tell me a story about man versus man – and end up with five WILDLY different tales? Imagination, individualism, quirks, prejudices. 

Voice.

I need a strong voice to hook me on a book. It seems rarer and rarer to find a book that’s transportive, that I can read without thinking about. Being a writer kills reading for fun in many respects, because if the voice isn’t strong and immediate and different, it’s too easy to start picking apart the pieces.

I know I have a unique voice because it’s so strong in my head I can’t shake it, and when I try to write outside my voice, I fail miserably. That’s why I love to hear my work read by other people. I get a chance to see how they perceive my voice. Where they put the emphasis. How they add a giggle here and a sob there. A pause where I didn’t put one, but should have. It is really the coolest thing ever, and it’s a great writing exercise to try at home.

Get a friend, or critique partner, and have them read your work aloud to you. Don’t follow along on the page, just shut your eyes and listen. Accept their voice into your head. You will hear the glaring errors, the passive sentences, the brilliant turns of phrase and the limp declarations. Dialog is especially important to voice, and this method will allow you to hear where you’ve got it right, and where you’re off the mark. I guarantee this will make you a stronger writer.

If you’re a reader interested in this exercise, get an audio book of something you’re very familiar with. That you’ve read multiple times. And listen to how different it sounds in someone else’s voice than in your own head. See? You have voice too.

So I return to the page energized after hearing my story read aloud. Many thanks to Shannon McManus who kicked ass telling Michael and Caitlyn’s tragic story. She nailed it.

Want to share some examples of strong voices? I’d love to hear who you think qualifies.  

Chaos versus Control

     

 

 

     VS.

 

 

 

 

There are two very active spider webs side by side on my back deck. I am not a fan of spiders, so when I saw them, my first impulse was to grab a broom and sweep them away. But as I looked closer, the startling differences between the two webs intrigued me.

One was classic, elegant, perfectly aligned, with spokes of geometric precision so perfect that one wonders whether the spider has terrible OCD. It is clean and orderly and efficient. No wasted space. No wasted energy.

The other is scattershot, crazily strung from chair to rail, like the spider was on a drunken bender. This has gathered leaves and dirt and is littered with bug casings. Its chaos and disorder and sheer disarray works, but looks like a downright mess.

I know these are the webs of two very different spiders.

It is also an excellent visual metaphor for two very different writers.

Writer A – let’s call her Control Spider – has a process. A method. She rises early, gets some exercise, eats a good breakfast and starts work with a clear head. Control spider probably outlines her story, so she knows what she has to tackle during that day’s writing session. She edits her previous day’s work, then forges ahead, clear about her path. She gets her words down on the page then breaks for the day, utilizing the afternoon to read, run errands, prepare a meal. She goes to bed at a decent hour and does it all again the next day.

Writers B – Chaos Spider – is scattered. Like her messy web, she has no process, no method. Her writing day is not structured. She is catch as catch can, writing when the spirit moves her or the deadline gets close. Chaos spider may even be a daily writer, loading the page with words, having exultant moments when the words, characters, story take her places she never expected. She is often surprised when she sees her word counts at the end of the day, but never feels fully comfortable with her process.

Chaos Spider and Control Spider make their deadlines, they just do it in two very different ways.

The question I’m sure you’re asking yourself is which way is right?

The answer is: Both.

While on the surface Control Spider looks like the better method, she can get into such a routine that her work becomes stale and ordinary. Precise, yes, but even perfection can get boring sometimes.

On the other hand, Chaos Spider can spin works of sheer genius, her far-flung web bringing together pieces of life in ways no one imagined before, but won’t remember to wash her clothes or cook her dinner.

It’s best to find ways to incorporate both aspects into your writing day. Control Spider needs to build her web next to Chaos Spider so she can see that even when you break the rules, you can still catch your prey. Chaos Spider parked herself next to Control Spider for the same reason, to see how the other half lives, to watch the precision and beauty with which Control Spider spins her web, and absorb some of the benefits to being next to that serenity.

Having a plan and a goal is wonderful, commendable even. But allowing Chaos Spider to crawl onto the page, even for five minutes, will bring a fresh perspective to your writing.

Which are you? Control Spider or Chaos Spider? I must admit, I’m a bit of both.