Instinct versus intellect

Do you write from the gut or the head? Like on most spectrums, we'll fall somewhere in the middle--but if you had to choose a dominant approach, which would it be?

At a writer's conference last year, I attended a session presented by Eric Witchey (http://www.ericwitchey.com/.) He spoke about story structure, character motivation, writing practice--all valuable information well presented. The anecdote that stood out for me, though, was his telling of writer Naseem Rakha's experience writing her first novel (http://www.naseemrakha.com/pages/the_book.html.) As a writing teacher, he helped her through the early stages of writing her novel, but he said she came already equipped to write it well. She ended up selling the book for an impressive sum and contracting for several more; a wild success by any measure.

Then Witchey talked about that second novel--the dreaded sophomore effort. The instinctive writer, he says, will often panic when faced with that manuscript deadline from the publisher. You see, the instinctive writer doesn't know how he wrote his first novel. He didn't plan each scene, place each chapter just so for greatest tension--he followed his gut about storytelling, just let it pour out onto the page and then cleaned it up after the fact. He probably took years to complete his novel. And now the publisher wants the second manuscript in six months. Completed. Without a template to follow, this writer panics, unsure of how to recapture the magic.

And it is magic to this writer. All of those minute decisions writers make as they shape a new story regarding syntax, tone, rhythm, pacing--the gut writer successfully integrates these elements through osmosis. He grew up with story, reading, absorbing the rise and fall, the rhythm of the tale. When he writes his own, it's not about following rules--it just feels right.

I'm not saying Naseem Rakhu is one type of writer or another. I have no idea, and Witchey didn't allude either way. But his anecdote about her put me in that place for a moment. In my imagination, I could feel the mixed reaction of terror and exhilaration facing that kind of wondrous deadline; both a dream and nightmare galloping down the spine.

I'd write about the planner writer--the one who writes from the head, who outlines meticulously, creating detailed character sheets and 3D maps of their story's setting before even starting to write, and then writing draft after draft and tearing it apart and starting over, because well, writing a novel is work. This sort of deconstruction is necessary. Right?

I have no idea. I can't conceive of that kind of approach. This may be why I'm an unofficial novelist, not having actually finished any of them yet. When it comes to the thinking, I get foggy. I second guess. I lose the grit I should have between my teeth, like I have when I'm writing from the hip. The planning just sucks the life out of writing for me. I don't even discuss stories before I write them, because talking about them releases their mojo into the world--it's not mine, anymore, trapped in my head and thumping to get out.

So, if writing novels requires this "planning," how do I reconcile my aversion? How do I make the nasty outlining which is so good for my novel more palatable?

I don't think I do. I think each writer finds his own way, landing happily somewhere along that intellect-instinct spectrum and produces using methods he cobbles together from widespread sources to suit his own approach.

Some sources I've found:

*Noah Lukeman's titles:
"The Plot Thickens"
http://www.lukeman.com/theplotthickens/
"The First Five Pages"
http://www.lukeman.com/Titles/first_5_pages.htm

*http://www.advancedfictionwriting.com/art/snowflake.php

*http://www.nanowrimo.org/

*from http://www.wikihow.com/Write-a-Novel :

There are several common approaches to writing:
Begin with the ending in mind. If you know the ending of the story, it can help you form the theme, the plot, the settings, the characters, and it can help you progress more easily toward that ending.
The big picture approach. Try to create the world (the overall setting and environment), and then build on it to create your novel. Create geography, races, towns, cities, capitals, cults, factions, governments, etc.
Dive in approach. You have the list of the idea, and you start writing while it's still fresh in your mind.
Start with characters. Create three or four characters and let the plot build up around them. This way will allow the characters to be more embedded in the plot.

I'm not saying stretching our comfort zone isn't a good thing--certainly, it is. Get out of that rut once in a while. Try something new.

But don't feel compelled to write outside of your self--your self is where you get your voice, how you bridge that gap between writer and reader. You don't want to compromise the one aspect of your writing that makes it unique, no matter how you get that story onto the page.

two apparently unrelated events

within the past week i've experienced two separate events--which i guess i do all the time, if you wanna be technical--but these two events have had a profound effect on me & the whole writing thing. okay, wait--three events. three separate, unrelated events. i'll address these in chronological order of occurrence:

the first: the online writing community i belong to started a spontaneous lovefest in one of the forums regarding my stories. i swear i had nothing to do with it. but the respect and affection i felt from so many people, so many other writers who i admire, just twanged me right in the heart. i felt in a solid way, and maybe for the first time, that i have a real chance of succeeding with the writing thing--if i can finish one of these novels. [that reminds me. i paged through my portfolio, and i've actually begun NINE novels. i've gotten significantly farther on three, so i tend to discount the others--but they're there. lurking. accusing with beady eyes and disappointed hearts. anyhoo, back to the point.]

the second: one of my cohorts is taking on a huge project this week. in the course of seven days, he's writing sixty thousand words of novel based on a list of thirty events created by another person (okay, me) unconnected with the actual writing of the story. thirty events not apparently related, but plotted together by him and being fleshed out into an honest-to-god novel as i type. the deadline is sunday evening at midnight (local time for him.) so far, he's posted about a third of the total story, and it's mindbending how good it is. the man blows my mind, and his fearlessness and rampant creativity and drive are damned inspiring. okay, so that's event two.

the third: today, through no special act of kindness of my own, i received a free copy of noah lukeman's newest book, How To Find & Keep A Literary Agent, from the author's website. i asked for a discount (because i'm poor right now,) and the admin was generous and classy and just sent me the book in full. maybe this happens all the time--i don't know--but not to me. this feels like another moment of serendipity, and combined with events one and two, i feel like the universe is trying to tell me something.

three separate events, all occurring inside of seven days, all leading me toward inspiration. i feel buffetted by the winds of fortune, by the wings of chubby muses as they giggle and poke me with their fat fingers, steering me toward a common goal, a shared message: WRITE, FOOLISH MORTAL. WHAT'RE YOU PIDDLING ABOUT FOR?

you'd think that would do it, wouldn't you? that and other coincidences that have led me to a place where i have the luxury of time, no money to distract me, the support of those around me and the inspiring acts of those i admire, and free books on furthering my efforts falling literally without price into my lap. i mean, what else do i want??

it's dawning on me that i want for nothing. all i have to do is write. i'd be foolish to ignore signs like these--that's the way to raise the ire of the powers that be. it'd be disrespectful. idiotic, actually. yep.

it occurs to me

that i done a boneheaded thing. i posted a lovely blog entry in a blog i never use. i designed it in 2008, and never posted once. until earlier this month. kooky. i must've eaten too many french fries that day, buzzed on peanut oil or something. so i'm double-posting because this blog i linked to deserves more than what i gave. cripes.

A quote from Kafka. (via Moral Ambiguity)
June 4, 2010 by lauriemariepea

Miss Moral Ambiguity never fails to tweak me in the chestular region–sometimes she touches the heart, others she thumps me in the solar plexis. can never predict. But she writes true and strong and chock full of personality and brains. I love this girl’s blog.


25th February 1912, "Hold fast to the diary from today on! Write regularly! Don't surrender! Even if no salvation should come, I want to be worthy of it every moment." Kafka. Yesterday, as I was out and about in Liverpool, I found myself in News From Nowhere again, flicking through the second-hand books. And what did I find? 'The Writer's Workbook, 2nd Edition', written largely in part by Edmund Cusick, the Head of the Imaginative Writing Departm

… Read More
via Moral Ambiguity

visit this blog at www.moralambiguity.wordpress.com

back in the saddle again

i've been trying to make headway with any of the three novels, stumped for a clear path forward and not trusting my own judgment with developing plot on that scale. in an effort to coerce myself to keep to it, i've not let myself work on anything else, including the flash fiction i enjoy so much--so i haven't really written much of anything since about, oh, february. color me stoppered up.

this weekend, a good writer friend challenged me to write something--anything--about 1500 words long, and to do it by tuesday. i decided that working on something--anything--was better than nothing at all, and finished a new first draft about an hour ago.

i love having written something! anything! the writing of it was stimulating, satisfying, FUN, and the finishing of it gave me a giddy head for a solid 15 minutes. yes, writing is my drug, apparently. i don't know if it's fabulous, or drivel, but at this point i'm okay with either. at least i can still do it. something. anything writing.

here's a wee excerpt:

The breeze moved the thick grass to trembling, ghostly fingers of the long and newly dead plucking at the blades planted above them. The sun paused before setting, and the air hung gray-blue over the graveyard. Tam swept away the tears caught in her lashes, her knuckles rough. The scars sat on her skin like flat, pink toads.

keep in mind, it's a first draft. the extra-interesting aspect for me is that i ended up writing straight dramatic fiction, no monsters. it's still pretty dark, but well, that's just who i am.

O, the yearning.

i've been reading "from where you dream" (http://www.robertolenbutler.com/writings/non-fiction/from-where-you-dream/)
by robert olen butler--a dude i admire and respect, and kinda wish i could stand next to sometimes in case that mojo rubs off on people in the vicinity. it's a book about the process of writing fiction, and while i've read several of these books and parts of several more, what's different about this one so far is the approach. most of these writing instruction manuals work from the outside in. butler's book works from the inside out.

he talks about how to access the creative zone, that untamed nether region of unreason somewhere between dreaming and not, and how to get there on a regular basis and channel that frame of mind into the writing. it's exciting and relatable stuff.

of the three sections in the book (lectures, workshop, analysis) i'm still working on the first, so i'll let you know if he gets weird later on. his third lecture is on the subject of yearning, from the character's perspective. we're all familiar with the question we ask while building our characters: what does this character want? yearning is about that, but even more it's about the intensity of that wanting. butler links the idea also to that of epiphany, or "shining forth."

from p. 40: "James Joyce appropriated from the Catholic church the term epiphany. An epiphany literally means 'a shining forth.' He brought that concept to bear on the moment in a work of art when something shines forth in its essence. That, he said, is the epiphany in a story or novel."

the idea sounds kind of vague in this tiny excerpt, but he goes on to clarify so the reader's heart is all atwitter. i won't quote more of his book here, but i'll hint at one of the reasons i like him so much: he acknowledges that genre writers never forget about the importance of yearning in their characters, while the literary writer's most common mistake is doing just that. they leave out the intensity in their exploration of the human condition--that's why so many people read genre, and why literature gathers dust on the shelf.

people want to feel like the world's at stake in their stories; too often, in literature the only risk involved is whether the main character finds happiness. or matching socks. either way, the reader needs more than that.

i want to find (and write) more stories that combine aspects of both: exciting plot and depth of character. why is it so hard to excel at one and not the other? they can't be mutually exclusive, can they?

feedback at the writing workshop

today was day 2 of a 3-day writing workshop sponsored by my town's community college. the workshop's been around for many years, has developed a huge following, and presenters travel from around the country to pass on sage advice (and if a writer's planned ahead, even to offer feedback on manuscripts.)
this is where i come in. today, i met a writer/editor with an illustrious history. he's a marketing maniac, tireless and steeped in industry knowledge. he's written novels, short stories, books on writing, and edited a well-known anthology blending horror and erotica, the HOT series. he's michael garrett.
(see his web page: http://www.writing2sell.com/)

his approach is decidedly old-school, nuts-&-bolts, pragmatism over artistic freedom. he suggests writing with your audience in mind, answering expectations with a satisfying product. some may say this approach is cynical, selling out. i can agree, but really, it all depends on a writer's ultimate goal. if you're writing for the creative exploration, to attain a higher level of expression, then mike's take isn't your bag. if you're looking to make your living by writing novels, he has some useful advice. he doesn't knock artistic sensibilities by any stretch; he acknowledges that publishing is a business first, and that most publishers won't have the resources to produce and market a literary novel that falls too far outside the mainstream to make back their investment. all right. that's fair.

admittedly, i'm torn over the entire issue. i love literary and genre, both. both are valuable, both serve different gods. both should be able to thrive, if the world was fair. i think we both know about that looming "if" hanging over our heads.

so, what'd i learn from mike today? (i'm calling him mike not because we immediately bonded over chicken salad sandwiches, but because i feel silly typing out "mr. garrett". also, i want to seem cool and with-it. is it working?)

mike gave me the gift of understanding the need for deep character development. i've heard for years about building character sketches, about creating characters so real they follow me around after i've done with them--but it never clicked. i never understood why i'd need more from them than what's shown in any particular story. (and why do those character sketch worksheets always ask what color socks your character wears? really? is this vital background information?) but mike made it real for me today. he played on my background in psychology, my tendency to pick people apart to understand them from the inside out. he made the idea of character an intriguing puzzle of motivations and desires, fears and pathology, and that clicked for me for the first time.

he made characterization real for me in the same way that my writing professor made thematic development real: if you internalize your message, if you follow your subconscious and include everything in your first draft--and by everything, i mean everything that comes to you as you write, almost a
free-association--then when you return to revise later and edit out what's not true to the story, what's not necessary to moving the thing forward, your original, instinctive message will magically remain and without hammering away at the reader like a monkey with a rock. the text will have somehow absorbed your intention. this is sounding a bit mystical, but really it's about allowing yourself the freedom to trust the process. by frontloading the prep work, you later have the luxury of trusting your instincts as you create that first draft. but i digress.

back to what mike said. so, i submitted a couple of short stories for analysis and feedback from a professional, and mike was assigned to my pages. he started out by explaining his approach to critical analysis, that he sees little benefit in pointing out what's working in a story, that his focus is on what needs help so he can help the writer improve. i'm perfectly okay with this, as i know we have precious few minutes together to discuss and i want the time to be packed full of his decades of experience, chock full of exclusive michael garrett wisdom. i think i did manage to keep a straight face at his next words, because honestly, they were a shock to me. but i'm savoring them now, hanging onto them until i someday finish my novel and find an agent and actually sell the thing. and believe me, that's gonna be years from now.

he said this: "having explained my approach, i'll say this: your level of writing is very impressive. you'll have no trouble finding publishers to take on your work."

wow. michael garrett, the guy who edited stephen king's first work, the guy who has edited countless manuscripts for other writers, who has written his own novels and short stories and blah blah blah--he's been around, right? and he said my writing was "very impressive." of course, he then proceeded to tell me where i've strayed from the righteous path elsewhere in my writing, namely story structure and my tendency toward the contemporary "open" ending, which feels weak to him--but still. i'm a little verklempt over the experience, even though i realize he likely planted that comment to encourage me, to soften the criticism over my story endings. but that's quite a brace against any hope of gushing on his part to then spend a second almost, well, gushing. gushing for a texan, i mean. ;) (i can say that--i'm from texas.)

i need a moment, here. okay: voldemort's horcruxes were neither whores nor cruxes. discuss.

now i gotta get my everlovin'-crap together and finish one of these novels. i know i'm my biggest obstacle to getting somewhere with writing--just gotta fricking do it, man. mike had some good advice about getting past that overwhelmed feeling when tackling the first novel, too. tomorrow, it begins. (that's not his advice. that's just me standing on the bluff with my cape flapping in the sea breeze.)

about to have written

the old litmus test for writers--"do you look forward to writing, or having written?"-- feels a bit like the catch question--"when did you stop beating your wife?"

is it really an either/or kind of situation?

ask the question on a writing forum and i'll wager one of the most common responses is one about dreading the blank page/screen, the empty, white, mocking expanse pulling feckless writers down to excessive drink and self-flagellation. i admit i've felt that same dread, but more often i feel a sense of freedom stretch out before me when i sit ready to begin a new story.

most freeing is sitting before a blank screen without any idea of what to write.

the potential is staggering. anything in the world, imagined and real, is up for fiddling. i'm giddy at the possibilities. i realize that whatever story i decide upon will not realize this endless potential; it's not the nature of storytelling to create a tale that remains open to every possibility--by necessity, we carve out the structure, pov, character, setting and plot to explore a particular question or complication. but just having that pristine moment before making the first cut is breathtaking. i'm there right now.

okay, moment's over. i'm off to the ritual finger-gnawing, hair-twiddling process of thinking up something worth putting on the block. i love this stuff.