Back in November I posted a little blurb, which said in its entirety:
Other people’s creativity often distracts you from your own.
On the surface it sounds like I’m dissing what other people do. It sounds pretentious and a little snobby. Like I’m saying that other people’s work is not worth watching, reading, or listening to, and that was the furthest thing from my mind.
OK, well, not entirely (he said sheepishly). What I meant was this: imagine it’s the end of the day. You’ve spent all day at work, getting stuff done for someone else, and even though you get paid for what you’ve done, you can’t ignore that it was someone else’s stuff. When you get home you are probably tired. If you have family, and especially young children, you spend time with them, and that’s a good thing.
Now imagine you’ve put the children to bed, and it’s just you and your spouse. Without thinking about it – snick – the TV goes on. You think “Mur is right, I should be writing.” But here the flashing box just lulls your good intentions to sleep shortly before it does the same to you, and what has happened is someone else’s creativity has distracted you from your own. It’s a perfectly good show. But someone else made that show, someone else used his or her creativity to write the script, to direct, or to act in it. You could have done that.
You could have written that.
What I’m going on about is opportunity cost. It’s a basic concept in economics and it goes something like this. Say you have $25 to spend. You could choose either to spend it on dinner or go buy a book. If you choose the dinner it is at the cost of the book. If you choose the book it is at the cost of the dinner. It’s up to you to choose which opportunity you give up to get what you want.
The problem is that we often make the wrong choice. Watching TV instead of writing is OK sometimes, but not all the time if you want to be a writer. If you want to be a writer you want to write more often than you want to watch TV, it stands to reason. When you choose to watch a show, consciously or unconsciously you have chosen not to write. How do you feel about that?
We only have ourselves to blame if we don’t write as much as we want. That’s why I wrote that frustrated little post in November. I wasn’t trying to blame other people or devalue their work. It’s just that I made some unproductive choices how to use my time. And I continue to do so almost regularly. It’s just something I have to learn.
Hopefully you have learned to choose your opportunities wisely. If you have any suggestions for me, please comment below.
Back in September 2006 I started a blog on the Blogspot platform called Good Associations. It was a little experiment where I tried to post one flash story or other block of writing fresh off a 5-minute session of free association. I only did a small handful of posts, but a couple of them were nice.
The idea was that I would find a writing prompt (there are several websites out there that do just that), start my timer, and get writing. After the 5 minutes were up I would spend a few minutes tidying up the text (if I felt like it–this was supposed to be free writing, after all) and post it with a little commentary. I enjoyed the few times I did it.
Well, I’ve managed to resurrect the site here on WordPress, and you can find it at http://goodassociations.wordpress.com. I hope you enjoy reading it. I will try to give it some new content, because it really was a fun experiment. Feel free to use the same prompt I used and post your results in the comments.
I have a small problem, though: none of the links to story prompt websites carried over in the move to WordPress. I’ll have to go digging through the blogosphere again to find some. Do you have any that you use or know? Please put them in the comments below or go over to Good Associations and give it some link love! 🙂
How often do you get to read a work of fiction that, once the last word on the last page crosses your brain, fills you with satisfaction? This is what happened to me when I finished listening to the podiobook Quarter Share, by Nathan Lowell.
Ishmael Wang is orphaned when his mother dies. He is forced to leave the planet they lived on because the corporation which runs it had no place for him after his mother’s death. Backed into a corner, Ishmael signs on to a spacefaring merchant vessel and tries to find his berth in an environment as alien to himself as his home was familiar. On board the merchant vessel Lois McKendrick, he works to integrate himself into the crew and the daily routine aboard a solar clipper. There are regular safety drills, long periods of standing watch, hours of work in the mess, and weeks of travel in regular space before the brief and uneventful hop through hyperspace to the system of their destination followed by more weeks of travel. When in space, Ishmael only has his routine–and the mission of producing good coffee–to keep him occupied.
In another person’s hands this story would have been dry and cheerless. But, Ishmael’s voice is bright and optimistic, and the reading (or listening) is delightful. Quarter Share is a sea story set in space, and Nathan Lowell tells the tale as if he had lived out in the deep dark himself. In its very essence a science fiction novel, it nonetheless avoids the epic proportions that obsess most modern science fiction storytelling in favor of a down-to-earth (forgive the expression) style and chooses to recount the daily activities of Ishmael Wang. Unless you are so jaded that you can only read dark and gritty SF, Quarter Share and its sequels Half Share, Full Share, Double Share, Captain’s Share, and the hopefully soon-to-come Owner’s Share are required reading. You can find all of these at Podiobooks.com, as I’ve linked to them above. You can also go to the Traders Diary at http://solarclipper.com, where Nathan shares his Golden Age of the Solar Clipper world and adds many extra bits of story.
Early last month, Nathan announced that Quarter Share has finally been picked up by a publisher. This news was a consummation devoutly to be wished, and all your fans–including yours truly–are looking forward to owning their hard copy, happy to support your vision. Congratulations, Nathan, and thank you!
A short search through the blogosphere will reveal that writers are often of two opinions about their method of writing. Either they prefer to start with a well-laid-out outline, or they ditch the outline and write their magnum opus without one, by the seat of their pants.
Soon after finishing NaNoWriMo 2007 with a dandy 50,037-word, seat-of-pants manuscript that was practically useless, I tried to reign in the horrible mess by outlining what I had already written. This was exactly like herding cats, enormous and frustrating. So giving up on it was easy.
My great manuscript was a mystery story, and though I pounded away at it all month, it came down to a handful of poorly stitched together scenes. All of these scenes were important in some way. I wanted to understand my heroine and get her into and out of some trouble. But the plot was practically nonexistent, and I even went down a path I did not particularly enjoy, having her pursue her investigation by logging into an online social website a la Second Life. None of it was working out!
And then just recently the reason hit me: the novel was floundering because I new nothing about the actual crime! Oh, I had a vague idea, but nothing solid; and let’s face it, the crime is central to the mystery. Without a sense of whodunit, whydunit, whendunit, and howsitcoveredup there was going to be no novel.
An outline was key. Having one would be the result of thinking out all the details and red herrings central to a good mystery story. Now, I like the idea of having an outline to give me a sense of order and purpose. But because I’m not used to thinking about a story in terms of writing an outline, I always ran into a roadblock; the energy of this story always petered out, and I gave up easily.
But now I have a purpose and a plot for this mystery. What changed was how I looked at creating an outline. [A small digression: I am usually an all-or-nothing kind of thinker. If I use an outline I have to write everything in outline form. This meant that I had to have it already thought out, which meant that somehow something (the outline) had to come from nothing (chaos), but that I couldn't acknowledge the chaos part because the plotting process was supposed to be neat and orderly.] I started to let a little chaos back into my thinking. I thought, Yes, it will be better to have an outline, BUT FIRST I will do a little non-linear creating to get the plot going.
I new next to nothing about the crime, as I’ve already said. So to develop the crime’s story arch I started to write the scene where the criminal confesses everything that happened. I put in some characterization to liven it up. But more to the point, I wrote the scene without any preconception as to how it would turn out. As I wrote it I gave myself permission to discover what happened at the crime scene at the same time as the heroine. I inserted a little seat-of-pants chaos into my outline. Now I know the crime, who committed it, and why. Now I can plot out the timeline, the clues, the red herrings. And once that is done, I can stick my heroine into the thick of it with all of her own personal story and make the two storylines clash and crash all they can to make things interesting.
Here’s the essence of what I’ve just discovered: if you’re a seat-of-pants writer who wants to make a switch into creating an outline, go for it. But if the actual process of making that outline seems too epic, try to start by writing a scene out without plotting it just to see where it goes. This actually become a part of the plot, or illuminates the plot, and it always happens that you discover something interesting that you didn’t know. Give yourself permission to put the chaos into the order.