Maximizing Productivity on First Drafts: The NaNo Way

Katrina did a great job of covering how she does first drafts. I'll expand by how I get through my first-draft explorations by maximizing productivity. Keep in mind, my way isn't the right or only way; it's just what's worked for me.

Like Katrina, I begin with Save the Cat beat sheets, but add a Fiction University twist on the Three-Act Structure. And, because characters don't always come as quickly as my worlds and plots do, I also draft character profiles on a master sheet, including a character poem for the protagonist.

I borrowed the character poem idea from author Shelley Coriell.  It works great for figuring out a character's likes, dislikes, weaknesses and flaws early on. And whenever I add a new character while writing (I'm more of a pantser than a plotter) they also go on the master sheet. I'm also playing with the idea Stephsco brought up on Katrina's last post because a character arc beat sheet would better show how characters grow and develop as a result of story events. It's not just about what happens, but how the characters react and change throughout their journeys.

Once my beat sheet and character profiles are done, I usually dive in full force. I borrowed a NaNoWriMo spreadsheet from a fellow writer back when I wrote my second novel and have used it ever since. The first column is for minimum word count per day required for a NaNo win (50,000 words in one month), the second is for actual word count, and the third is to measure the difference between the two (all Excel formulas have been calculated beforehand, so the spreadsheet automatically determines the differences between counts). I don't fill out the sheet daily (just during each draft session), but it encourages me to get words out as often as I can. I also do virtual writing sprints with people to motivate me to keep working when the going gets tough.

Here's a word-count sheet from my last (fifth) novel (notice I expanded the formula from 50,000 to 80,000):

Green indicates when my word count exceeded the NaNo measurement, and dashes show when I broke even. Luckily, this last go-round, I went above and beyond the minimum more often than not. This is rare, but shows I'm getting better (and quicker) at drafting which each new novel.

But I also need to point out the dramatic down-side to this method, one I've seen in my writing after the fact. Paying too much attention to word count causes my first drafts to be too skeletal. Things happen way too quickly (or are inconsistent throughout the story), and transitions are often rushed and forced. So just be cautionary if you choose this method--don't be afraid to take your time, flesh out details, and let the novel romp around in the mud as much as it wants to. See where the words take you!

What about you? What has helped your productivity during a first draft?

Always Know Yourself Before...

During my trip to New York, I saw a lot of interesting sites, and had a great conference experience at Book Expo America.

Before visiting the city, I had a chance to go to Caffe Lena in Saratoga Springs, where the likes of Bob Dylan and other folk musicians have performed. That night, it was a unique blend of blues--sliding guitar, tuba, and trombone. But most fascinating was what I encountered in the bathroom:

"Always know yourself before making a decision that may change your life"

While the walls were covered in inspirational quotes, I picked this one above the others because it's so deceptively simple: "Always know yourself before making a decision that may change your life." Because better decisions are made when you have your own best interests in mind. And knowing what those interests are is key in determining whether a decision is a good fit.

As with anything, this can be applied to writing at all levels:

Crafting stage: When you are still in the process of editing your work, and getting it critiqued by others, make sure feedback resonates with the story you want to write. Don't assume that someone knows more than you, or that negative feedback means you have to change the story entirely.

How to Know Yourself: Think, reflect, and figure out which feedback resonates with you most. Be with it for awhile to see what sticks and what doesn't. That way, you can save having to revert to a previous draft when someone else's recommendations aren't working (though this isn't unheard of--I've had to do it myself).

Agented/publishing/selling stage: From what I understand, this can be a perilous stage because it involves a lot of waiting. And waiting can inevitably morph into unnecessarily questioning yourself. Or settling for a deal that might not be right for you in the long run in order to relieve immediate stress.

How to Know Yourself: Be sure of the direction you want your career to go. Make the decisions that honor that, even if it means waiting to see yourself in print. Because settling for something lesser means possibly having to undo it later on--and that isn't always an option.

What about you? In what ways do you know yourself? And how do these inform your decisions going forward? 

Using our Better Selves to Sort Through our Lesser Selves

As writers, we're constantly confronted with what we do well in craft, and what we don't do as well (this ratio might be higher if you're part of a critique group or an MFA program).

The thing is, most writers know what they need to fix. But the problem isn't in the knowing. It's figuring out how to execute the things we have trouble with. For example, I've consistently struggled with character development, one of the basic corner stones of any story. The gist of my feedback usually goes along the lines of, "I don't really know this character..." or "I don't really care about this character..."  or "I'm not sure what this character's motivation is..."

But I think my favorite was the most recent feedback I got from a writing instructor: "What will she sacrifice or learn about herself to meet her goals? Give the girl a STORY!"

And it's not like I hadn't thought about ways to enhance my protagonists. But even after that, I still had trouble translating them to the page.

Then it occurred to me. What if I used what I did well to help the things I didn't do as well? Used my better self to sort through my lesser self?

Like this, but much more convoluted.

I've been complimented on my world-building, so I decided to use that as my catalyst, and see how my characters were affected by the places I'd created for them.

When I did this, I discovered the following: 

My external worlds played directly into my protagonists' main motivations

Both my current works-in-progress deal with characters who feel trapped in their situations. And I realized--the settings I'd created for them had no literal windows. None.

It turned out my world-building self was trying to tell my character development self something. That these characters wanted windows. Wanted options. And I could use that to motivate their actions and move their stories forward.

My external worlds demanded that my characters take action

One reason my characters tend to fall flat is I put them in these rich worlds but don't let them do anything. It's almost like I'm afraid to give them freedom to move within the spaces I've created.

So today, when crafting a scene where my protagonist finally has to confront the antagonist, I had her speak up and be an active agent of change in her own story.

While it was harder to write because I was stretching myself to places that weren't as comfortable, it helped me get more into her head. I ended up writing a scene where she actually had to struggle (I'm also way too easy with my protagonists a lot of the time).

Instead of taking the usual advice I've heard about character development, I made it work for me by putting it in terms of world-building, something I knew inside and out.

And now, I pose the following to you all:

1. First, consider which writing aspects you receive the most compliments on.
2. Now, consider something you don't do as well.
3. Consider how you think through the thing you do well. For example, if you're good at characters, how do you build them? If you're good at plotting, how do you develop it?
4. Use this same thought process for the thing you don't do as well, and discover ways to perceive it in a newer light.
5. Apply this to your writing.  

What do you struggle with in your writing? What strategies do you use to work through challenges? 

Lessons Learned: Writing as Performance Art

Last week, I heard a presentation that discussed performance anxiety, given by music professor John Masserini. As I listened, I realized the tips he gave could also be applied to writing. Because all creative pursuits, whether they be art, music, or theater, share the same anxieties.

Translating this...

       

...to this. 

And as artists, we can use these anxieties and translate them into bigger truths. Such as:


1. You are the vessel.

This was probably the most useful tip of all. When John coached his music students on performing, he reminded them they were just a vessel for the music--that the audience wouldn't be focused on them--but on the music itself. It was the the notes, instead of the person playing them, that truly mattered.

And it got me thinking about how nervous I've gotten when putting my writing out there, and worrying about what people will think of me. When all this time, I've only been a vessel for the words that choose to come through my fingers and onto the page. This helps takes the onus off me as a person, and puts it where it belongs--on the story.

Elizabeth Gilbert alluded to this sort of thing during this fabulous TED Talk (it's lengthy, but definitely worth watching):




It's worth mentioning that Elizabeth Gilbert's use of "vessel" (8:41) is different from what I'm implying. I'm treating vessel as a conduit, a way to sail somewhere, rather than the full vat of creativity, or, the boat itself. As writing vessels, we write the words, but they do not necessarily always come directly from us.


2. Establish a routine.

This seems pretty basic, and as writers we hear it a lot, but John took it a bit further in his talk. As in, when his students are preparing for a recital for 7 p.m. on a Friday, he advises that they run through the repertoire at the same time (7 p.m.) on the Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday before the performance. That way, by the time Friday rolls around, the student's brain will be attuned and accustomed to running through the repertoire by the time they have to do it in front of a crowd.

In writing, the equivalent of this is anything potentially big that could happen along the way (meeting with an agent, editor, or perhaps pitching at a conference). So, for example, if you have a pitch appointment with an agent at noon, run through your pitch at noon as many days as you can before that meeting. Then, it will seem like it's old hat.

One final note about routine: even though we often hear that we "should" establish some sort of routine, it can sometimes be easy to brush off as, "Well, that's not my process." I told myself that for years. "I'm not an early riser, so I'll write at night." But recently, one of my MFA writing instructors recommended writing with the "best brain"--which means first thing in the day. And after trying that for the past few weeks, I've realized how much of a positive difference it makes. By getting my writing done in the morning, I get to do the thing I love most first--and then I'm not as resentful of the time taken away by other things throughout the day.


3. The art is in the recovery.

As a former pianist, one of my biggest anxieties was making a mistake during a recital. John admitted that mistakes were inevitable, but he advocated going on anyway. "The art is in the recovery," he said. A bad note may happen--but it's the notes that come afterward that count.

And of course, this can be applied to all stages of writing. Rejections at the query stage--what writers do afterward is what counts. Do they quit? Or do they hunker down at the desk and strive to write something better? Same goes for abysmal sales. What does the writer do next? Give up? Or write the next book?

Mistakes, nerves, and insecurities are inevitable in music, art, writing and life. But if we can learn ways around them, and not make them a hindrance, we'll go farther than we thought possible.

What about you? What are your fears? Where is your focus? When are you at your best? And how does all this translate to your writing?

I'll Make it Fit: Why Cramming Things Together is a Bad Idea

Having finished the second draft of my WIP, I've thought about my editing process, and what I learned from this past go-round. A lot of things came to mind, but the most important was the consequences of molding the story into something it wasn't (and having to back-track when that didn't work).

We've all been there, I'm sure. When revising the heck out of Plot A, Plot B comes along and says, "I'm the real story here. Plot A can suck it." So I cut too much to accommodate Plot B, and ended up having to re-add it back in (thank goodness for previous saved drafts).

The trick is to marry Plot A and Plot B in a way that doesn't feel forced:

"I'll make it fit!"

When we try to force story, it gets stifled, and turns into something it isn't meant to be. If you're encountering this, take a step back and see what your characters are doing.

That's right--I said characters. Not plot. Because the "making it fit" phenomenon happens when I'm trying to tell my characters what they're supposed to be doing. Making them speak, instead of letting them speak.

If you find that your novel is feeling forced, ask yourself the following:

1. Am I letting my characters discover their true selves, or am I adding unnecessary frills and forcing the story?

2. Does Plot B contradict the characters' actions that led up to the current scene? Or is there a way to tie it together to what will inevitably happen?

3.  Am I going wider? Or deeper? (Hint: Go deeper so the puzzle pieces fit, but don't feel forced.)

Once I found my villain's true motivation--simple, with no frills attached--Plot B finally said, "Oh! That's what you're doing. Okay, I can fit in this way..."

And because my villain's no-frills motivation was directly connected with my protagonist's inciting event, it let me see what was supposed to stay (and what needed to be cut). And at last, I saw my way to the end.

So what about you? What do you do when things don't fit?

Affirmation is my Albatross

We all know that writing is a long waiting game, whether you're yet to be agented or published, on submission, or awaiting reviews for your published work.

In these stages, it's common to look for sources of affirmation. I'm lucky to have a group of people who support me when things get challenging, but sometimes, affirmation becomes my albatross. I get so consumed with the external--what people think, and confirmation that I'm doing all right--that it's easy to get desperate when affirmation doesn't come my way.

Unfortunately, this makes me look a bit like John Cleese in the beginning of this Monty Python YouTube clip (language NSFW).



And here are some other reasons why having affirmation as my albatross is a bad idea (the fact that John Cleese has his around his neck is probably no accident):

1. I look desperate. ("Alllbaatrosss!")

2. It's extremely unsatisfying. ("I haven't got any choc ices, I just have this albatross.")

3. Sometimes I get defensive. ("Don't you oppress me, mate!")

3. And at the end of it, I'm still left with a gigantic bird that weighs down my psyche. ("Of course you don't get f*#king wafers with it!")

So here's what I'm going to try. I'm going to look within, and find what matters in my bones, no matter whether the affirmation comes or not. Namely, I'm going to ask myself the following:

1. What are five things I've accomplished?

2. What am I most proud of?

3. What do I value most?

4. What keeps me going when things get tough?

Often, when I answer these, I find I'm further along than I thought. Plus, it helps me keep focused on the writing itself (a great source of internal affirmation). With these tools, I'm optimistic that I can eventually drop my albatross for good.

So what about you? What is your albatross? In what ways does external affirmation (or conversely, disavowal) affect your writing life?

What's in Your Toolbox?

With November quickly approaching, I've seen lots of posts on how to prep for NaNo this year.

I won't be participating, since I'm still editing my current WIP (I'm almost 260 pages in), but all the NaNo stuff got me thinking about being prepared for novel writing and editing, and what I keep in my writer's toolbox year-round. So here it is:

And it's just about this messy.

Writing: The Drafting Stage/Craft Honing

NaNoWriMo really put me in touch with my drafting process back in 2011. With a spreadsheet to keep track of word count, and a separate spreadsheet with character sketches and chapter synopses, I always felt confident at this stage.

For those of you pantsers out there (I'm sure there are many of us), I highly recommend Rock Your Plot by Cathy Yeardley--I often build my outline around the elements she includes, such as inciting event, plot points, pinch points, etc.

I'm also increasing my focus on character development--since I feel weakest there. Mostly, it's getting to what your protagonist wants (goal) and why they want it (motivation). Explore who your characters are, and how they've been shaped by their experiences. Sometimes characters won't tell you these things until halfway through the novel (or even after the novel is written). This happened to me in my current WIP, when I finally realized her main goal was to fill the holes within herself.

At all writing stages, published or not, growing in craft is something we can all do. For this reason, craft stuff probably constitutes the biggest part of my toolbox.

Books:

Rock Your Plot by Cathy Yeardley
Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott
Characters & Viewpoint by Orson Scott Card
The Art of Character by David Corbitt

Blogs:

Fiction University
Writer Unboxed

Editing: The Revising Stage/Perfectionism and Fear Mongering

I'd admit, this is still an uphill battle for me. I just printed out pages of a revised chapter that I plan to look at tomorrow with fresh eyes, but even before I do, I know it will need a lot of work.

A lesson I learned the hard way was not to worry about line edits too early. Sometimes the perfectionist in me refuses, but when I ask her if she's being helpful, and she says no, I tell her to take a hike. And then I allow myself to be satisfied with my product, even though it might be messy and unfinished.

Another big and hard lesson in this process was learning that the best editor = space from my novel. Which means trunking my first draft for months, maybe a year. When I finally do revisit content, here are some things I try to consider:

First stage: Are the characters compelling people that readers want to hang out with for hundreds of pages? Is the plot engaging? Is there a strong hook to reel readers in? Writing 21st Century Fiction by Donald Maass is helpful in this stage, because it includes all kinds of useful exercises to ramp up narrative.

Second stage: Is everything consistent? Are there story flaws?

*Insert many stages of editing and trunking, including drafts to beta readers*

Last stage: Is everything consistent? Do the sentences read awkwardly?

I'm still honing this part of my toolbox, so if anyone wants to include something in the comments section, I'm all ears.

Books:

Writing 21st Century Fiction by Donald Maass
GMC: Goal, Motivation, Conflict by Debra Dixon
Self-editing for Fiction Writers by Renni Browne and David King

Blogs:

Fiction University (Mentioned above, but covers all writing stages)
A Novel Edit

Publishing: The Final Stage/Sending Your Stuff into the Great Beyond 

I've had a tendency to focus too much on this stage, so I'm only designating a small part of my toolbox to it. Still, it's good to know some basics, such as who your audience is, what genre your book fits in (including what genres are actually out there) and what age group your book will fall under (such as the nuanced differences between Young Adult and Middle Grade, standard word counts, etc.). You can keep an ear to what's trending, but don't marry yourself to it. And don't just write to the market, because it's constantly changing.

Books:

Writer's Market by Robert Lee Brewer (a new one of these comes out every year)

Blogs/Websites:

Absolute Write Water Cooler
Janet Reid, Literary Agent
Fiction University (Mentioned above, but covers all stages of the process)


Okay, your turn! What's in your toolbox?

Edited prose falling flat? Check your inner critic

Ernest Hemingway said, "Write drunk, edit sober." The problem with editing sober, though, is if it goes too far unchecked, it can turn into "church lady" sober. The inner critic taunts your loopy, messy prose, making you feel stupid for writing it in the first place. Sort of like this:



The unfortunate result of this, at least for me, is prose with all the life sucked out of it, leading to flat characters and a weak plot. Yeah, the sentences go together, but if there's no life in them, they're not worth reading.
I ran into this with a recent short story I wrote for my MFA class. It explored what might happen if our bad ideas didn't come from us, but from external, invisible beings who planted them to ensure we learned from our mistakes. (Much like an inner critic, no?) My protagonist is one of these invisible beings, and the seed she plants backfires. Forced to confront her lizard boss Roebuck, she finds out the whole system is rigged. 
Here's the scene as I turned it in for class:

I can’t move. Can’t think. I stare, feeling like I’m seeing Roebuck for the first time. “Why control us this way? Make us do this if it doesn’t help the humans?”   

He flicks his tongue. Irritated. “Ignorance keeps the system healthy. Don’t question it.”

This isn’t right. My entire being buzzes with a new clarity. One that allows me, for the first time, to see into his brain. His memories.

There’s a silver medical table, with his former lizard self, much smaller, and squealing in pain. A human in a white lab coat injects him with a red fluid.

My mouth gapes, and I can’t speak. Zorg was right about pawns. I wonder how much he knows. How much he wanted to tell me, but was afraid of what Roebuck would do if he did.

I narrow my black eyes. “You don’t do this to help the humans. You do it because you want revenge on them.”

He growls, and pulls me toward another wall. An invisible door, one I didn’t know was there, opens. “They need to know the harm they cause others. Be accountable for it.”

The room seems to elongate. I stare at the empty elevator pod at the other side of the room, starting its countdown to leave.

I can’t let it. 

Here's the same scene with some deleted lines added back in, more showing instead of telling, and some sentences combined:

My joints stiffen. I can’t move. Can’t think. “Why control us? Make us do this if it doesn’t help the humans?”   

He flicks his tongue, irritated. “Because it works. Ignorance keeps the system healthy.”

I stare at his hooked face with its sinister scales and needle-sharp teeth. And for the first time, I don’t trust it. Fueled by anger, my mind buzzes, allowing me access into the deepest part of his brain, where his memories live.

On a silver medical table, his former lizard self, much smaller, squeals in pain. A human in a white lab coat injects him with a red fluid.

So that’s why. He doesn’t want to help the humans. He wants revenge on them.

Zorg was right about pawns. I wonder how much he wanted to tell me, but couldn’t, afraid of what Roebuck might do.

I narrow my black eyes, scathing. “You’re using us. All of us. To hurt them.”

"I don't have time for this." He growls, and pulls me toward another wall. An invisible door, one I didn’t know was there, opens. “They need to know the harm they cause others, and be accountable for it. Someday, you'll understand.”

The room elongates, and I stare at the empty elevator pod at the other side, starting its countdown to make someone else’s life unnecessarily miserable.

I can’t let it. 

  The scene still needs work, but at least I've gotten hold of the emotional heft needed to carry it forward. I took a overly telling sentence that involved "seeing Roebuck for the first time" and showed how she perceives him differently instead. I also inserted more of Roebuck's reactions to her. But most importantly, I allowed my sentences to be a bit messier, inserting more cadence and variety within the prose by default.
So what about you? What kills your prose, and what have you done to spruce it back up again?

#keepgoing - on moving forward when you feel stalled

Happy Friday, Operation Awesome!

Some of you Twitteratis may have noticed a hashtag circulating through the writing community earlier this week - #keepgoing - in which writers tweeted about the ways in which they've moved forward, even when this time last year, it felt hopeless.

The reason I think the discussion was so important is that everyone needs that encouragement once in a while. I'm sure there are some rare specimens out there who haven't had a single hiccup in their road to publication, but for the rest of us, there's always something. Whether it's agent-hunting, the submission process, low sales, bad reviews, a tough editorial note, or even a smaller, harder to articulate problem, any number of these things can stop you in your tracks.

#keepgoing reminds us that no matter how it looks now, you never know how your career is going to change if you keep pushing on. But how do you do that when you feel stalled?

Here are a few things that work for me:

- Switch it up. Obsessing over the project that's making you anxious is like salting the papercut, especially when that project is at a point where it's beyond your control. But sometimes it's not a project that you're querying or on sub with, sometimes it's a WIP that's just completely blocked, to the point where you wonder if you can even write anymore. In those cases, sometimes you just need to stick with it and push through, but other times, a shiny new Word .doc can be the perfect palate cleanser. It depends on what works best for the project, and your own personal process.

- Talk it out with people who understand.  Writer friends are the best in times like these, because we get it. You don't have to stop and explain anything to them, and together you can untangle the mess that is your thought process. It's good, in this case, to recognize what you need - whether it's a cheerleader, a nice brutal critique, a plotting buddy, or just a good old-fashioned venting session. Or just someone who will distract you with a nice bottle of wine and some silly TV shows.

- ... and remember to talk to non-writing people as well. Because it's always important to have perspective. My friends and family are just proud of me for finishing a book at all, regardless of how my career goes, so it's good to have the reminder that that's pretty neat on its own!

- Remind yourself that in this business, no effort is wasted. The frustrating part, of course, is when you can't immediately tell where those efforts will pay off - but whether that project isn't as dead in the water as you think, or helped you improve more than you'll ever know, every word you write is helping you somehow.

That's what helps me personally, OAers. How about you?

Have a great weekend, and hang in there!