Weekly Report…

Posted: July 18th, 2010 under Craft, the writing life.
Tags: , ,

There’s nothing like actually turning off everything else and convincing the distractable mind that no, it cannot do anything until it’s produced the day’s wordage.  No, we are not playing Solitaire.  No, we are not reading email.  No, we are not checking Twitter, or LJ, or the SFF.net newsgroup.   The television is off limits.   The new red shiny netbook is off limits.   The outdoors is off limits.   Cooking is off limits.  (Dishwashing isn’t.)    The piano is off limits.  This chair, this keyboard, this one file.  First.

The amount of whining, sighing, whimpering, and moaning that goes on…the pitiful grinding of clashing mental gears…the squeaking of the chair…the fruitless search for the right music…NO.  Hands on keyboard.  Moving on the keys.   Whine, moan, whimper…and then a few words come.  And a few more.  And more.  (Check word count…wailie, wailie woe, only 132???)   Stern measures in the mind (“Do you want me to make the bathroom off limits, like in third grade???”)  The count creeps up…and up…and at a thousand there’s a reward.

So anyway, by the end of the week, the works were much smoother to get going in the morning, with less complaint, and every day the required amount was reached sooner,  except for Friday.  Thursday, I had done 3300 words, which is enough to make my hands really hurt.   I had stayed up really late doing it.  So Friday I could not wake up on time, and finally gave up and slept another hour or so.   Forcing 2000 words out (by 11 pm) was a struggle.

But…the weekend has yielded 2300 (about 1000 after the birthday party last night, the rest today.)  Much of this is basic narrative–since I don’t outline, this is how I find out where the story’s going.    Some of it will be “wrong” and you’ll never see it.    But it’s building the critical mass, and that’s a necessary stage in the construction, or growth, or crystallization or whatever the right metaphor is for you, of these books.   They need to have a lot in them–an immense amount in them–before I can stand back and say “Oh–that’ s in the next one, that didn’t really happen, and this…yeah, this and this and this other bit over here–when I shake the clods off it–all belong.”

A writer I know has been reporting in Twitter on advice from famous bestselling writers (in other fields) that she picked up at a conference, and I find myself muttering about the advice, which may be why they’re richer and famouser, but I don’t think so.  I think the advice is what worked for them.  I don’t think it’s the all-out rule they make it.  (And I notice they don’t all agree.)   I don’t think it matters a flip whether you outline in detail or write it as it comes…whether you make up character charts for each character or not…whether you start the story on a dark and stormy night or a sunny afternoon or with BANG!…whether you use long words or short ones, long sentences or short ones, long chapters or short ones.    Readers aren’t all alike.  Readers don’t all like the same kinds of stories.

I have one rule.  The rule for writing is “Don’t bore the reader.”    If you don’t bore the reader, you will find readers.  You may be surprised at some of them (“YOU like my book???”)  You may not find the ones you want.  But you will have readers.   If you bore readers…you won’t.

This is a true rule, but it’s like my riding instructor saying “Just balance” or my voice coach saying “Just make it musical.”   The simplest and truest rule has within it layers of complexity…Just balance with your spine in line with the spine of a moving animal, perfectly in balance at all gaits and in all maneuvers, so perfectly that your arms and legs have complete independence for giving precise signals.   Just sing so that every sound you make–the start of each note, the middle of each note, the finish of each not, the transition to the next and the next, the entire phrase, is purely music.

Some riding days are endless trotting….around and around and around being told not to hunch, not to hollow, not to grab with your knees, to relax the shoulders, relax the elbows…just balance…   Some singing days are endless attempts at a simple five note phrase, over and over and over, being told no, the attack on the second note wasn’t musical and no, the end of the phrase wasn’t musical.

And some writing days are like that…word after word, phrase after phrase, sentences after sentence.   The 2000 words are needed for the book, but they’re also those 20 meter circles at sitting trot, those scales…they are the foundation on which a book can be built.

Oh, you want numbers?  Since last Sunday night, 13,232.

8 Comments »

  • Comment by Genko — July 19, 2010 @ 4:16 pm

    1

    Congratulations on 13,232. Yes, “don’t bore the reader” is a good rule, but what exactly does that MEAN? I suspect that some things that bore me might not bore others, and vice versa. Ultimately, what interests me might be a sense of authenticity, a sense that a writer knows what she’s doing, where she’s going, and has thought carefully about how she says it. A good novel leaves me feeling taken care of by a good writer that I don’t have to carp at. None of this is specific enough to constitute rules. It’s a feeling thing, I suppose.

    I’ve been branching out to picking up things off the library shelves, and reading books that look interesting, but when I get to the end, I’m not satisfied. Not sure why. I mutter about could have used more editing, not quite tight enough, the title is really bad, don’t like the overall tone, etc. And these are pretty good books, by pretty good writers, with a story that is at least mildly interesting. So what is it that makes a satisfying read?

    There are performances that I enjoy largely because I feel that the performer is having a ball and I can enjoy it vicariously. And others where it looks like the performer is enjoying it a lot more than I am. What’s the difference? Not sure. Something clicks in a good performance or a good book. Something lines up perfectly. It looks effortless (and of course it’s obvious that it isn’t).

    I, for one (and it is obvious that there are many more out there), appreciate the effort to make it look effortless, so that by the time it hits print, it’s obvious that this is the way the story HAS to be told.


  • Comment by David — July 19, 2010 @ 5:06 pm

    2

    Kings of the North available for pre-order on Amazon!!!!

    March 22,2011 can’t come soon enough for me.

    http://www.amazon.com/Kings-North-Elizabeth-Moon/dp/0345508750/ref=reg_hu-wl_item-added


  • Comment by elizabeth — July 19, 2010 @ 5:17 pm

    3

    You’re quite right that any book can bore some readers. But some books bore most readers and that’s a fatal error. (The most fatal of fatal errors is boring acquisition editors…bore the editor, and the book never sees print.)

    You have fairly well defined what “not boring the reader” consists of: it’s a tone of writer-voice that gives a reader the sense that the reader will be, as you say, taken care of. It’s the same in music–within a phrase or two, you know if you can relax and enjoy the performance–the soprano isn’t going to go flat; the violin isn’t going to squeak; the horn isn’t going to blat, unless it’s part of the piece, a deliberate choice to do so. (This is why my voice coach insists that the very first part of every note must be as musical as the rest–I must convey to the listener both my commitment to making music, and my ability to do so.) Ideally, it will seem inevitable, as notes following notes seem inevitable…and effortless as well. This is how it has to be, and here it is.

    With writers, this means that the first sentence–the first phrase of the first sentence–must be in that trust-able voice, that tone of calm competence (even if the initial sentence is describing mayhem and terror.) And once established, that trust must not be abused…if the first ten pages promises a command of the language, depth of characterization, and a certain kind of story, it’s reader-abuse to do a bait-and-switch to careless, flat language, weakly-defined characters and a totally different kind of story later on.

    Some writer-voices are boring from the beginning, tolerable only if you’re in the mood that “any chocolate is better than no chocolate” and the book’s topic is your chocolate. I read a lot of poorly written horse stories because horses were my chocolate, and later I read a lot of poorly written space stories because space travel was my chocolate, too. I would read just about anything (cereal boxes included) so when good stuff wasn’t available, I read right down the scale to the fibers in the cardboard box. Within any genre, you will find the writing equivalent of Green & Black’s 85% cocoa chocolate (my current favorite, but several other high-cocoa content chocolates are up there too) and also the equivalent of carob-chocolate-substitute. (Another reason to read across genres–you don’t get stuck with the bad stuff as often.)

    Readers will forgive moments of boring in fiction, but in a hierarchical way. I(“Readers” should be read as “most readers” as individual readers may have different priorities.) Given a story that is in their chocolate zone (it’s a mystery, or a thriller, or a romance, etc.) they will be most tolerant of word choices: they will tolerate either overblown language or flat language most easily if everything else works. Reviewers, critics, and English lit profs will be rolling their eyes at cliches but readers will zip right past them, unbothered. The language has to be solidly off by a standard deviation before they’ll notice. (In one blog recently, I saw “long blond hair” targeted as a terrible cliche to avoid…leaving aside that some people actually have long blond hair, that’s just not an issue for most readers. (“Tresses” are an issue for me, but judging by the success of many books with “tresses” in them, not commonly an issue for others.) Readers are less tolerant of characterization, noticing both what they consider cliches (though that depends on their experience) and weak connections between character and apparent motivation. And readers are least tolerant of bad architecture in the plot…failure to provide a Story instead of a simple narrative….because that replaces their chocolate with chocolate substitute and the gritty, floury taste will not satisfy. Readers will wade through lackluster style, stick with a character who is only 70% what they were hoping for, if the rest of the Story architecture is sound (which is what gives the story movement and life and that sense of purpose essential to Story.) This is not an excuse for lackluster style or poor characterization…but it explains why some screamingly bad books sell well. (Some other screamingly bad books sell well because they contain the exact cocoa% of the chocolate a given audience wants…”message” fiction comes to mind.)

    So how to approach this? The writer needs to choose a given form of chocolate–a genre–being sure that he/she understands what the chocolate of that genre is. If a mystery, it’s the mystery itself and its solution, and each subgenre of mystery has a different additional flavor (police procedural requires a dollop of police-flavor chocolate.) If it’s romance, it’s the consummation of the relationship, etc. A mystery that ends with the detective marrying his/her lover, without solving the mystery…or a romance that ends with the lovers drifting away without caring about each other…has cheated readers of the promised chocolate. Then the writer needs to design (or, if using an internal plot generator, make sure the it’s on and working) a solid, logical architecture to contain the chocolate. Aristotelian principles of Story architecture pertain. Then comes the writing itself, which should improve with practice (but, like any craft, will only improve with intelligent practice.)


  • Comment by elizabeth — July 19, 2010 @ 5:24 pm

    4

    David: WOW! Already???!!! (bounce, bounce, bounce.)


  • Comment by Gretchen S. — July 21, 2010 @ 8:19 pm

    5

    Elizabeth, I have to say that one of the things I love most about your books – particularly the Deed of Paksennarion – is the marvelous sense of pacing. Within the books, there is amazing detail about things that bring out the flavor of a scene or build recognition of character knowledge, yet not too much. Never too much. I have never found any part of the books that I skim because it’s needless or uninteresting. That, to me, is one of the hallmarks of a truly great writer. Thank you!


  • Comment by elizabeth — July 21, 2010 @ 9:03 pm

    6

    Ooh, thank you! (bounce!)


  • Comment by Gretchen S. — July 22, 2010 @ 7:50 am

    7

    Oh, and the other truly epic thing about your Deed books… they suffer much rereading. I’ve been through the entire set over 25 times now. Perhaps more – I may have lost count over the years. It seems every several months I must pull them out and reread. 🙂 Many more years will I keep these, and my daughter has just begun them and has been reading nonstop for 3 days!

    And another generation falls under your spell….


  • Comment by elizabeth — July 22, 2010 @ 7:56 am

    8

    ::GLOW::

    You have made my morning bright, Gretchen.

    Now to let B- get himself in trouble, which he’s been aiming to do for months, and see how he gets out of it (if he does.)


RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URL

Leave a comment