Embracing the Writer’s Conflict(s)

frustratedWriterAtComputerTalking Conflict, Thinking Conflict

Writers talk a lot about conflict. And they should. It’s the lifeblood of any story. So we sit down at the keyboard, or the notebook, or the electronic device du jour, and think about Mary, and how she wants a new samurai sword, but her parents disapprove of her martial arts obsession, and even more so of a long, sharp instrument. Or we think of something else where humans are up against some sort of opposition.

Self-Conflict

We are in conflict, ourselves, as we write. At any moment, as we write, we’re standing in the shoes of the character who is acting at the moment. If it’s a character who is important to the story, they are no doubt in conflict, which means you are, too. You are, in fact, that character. If you couldn’t empathize like that, you probably wouldn’t be a fiction writer.

Life Conflictwriter-having-inspiration-block-and-frustration_r-yf1qioe_thumbnail-full01

If you’re a part-time writer, like me, you’re probably engaged in other conflicts, too. Maybe your day job keeps you so busy it’s hard to find time for your art. Maybe you have a conflict of desires; for instance, you want to be an excellent writer, but you want to be an excellent parent, too, and sometimes the choice between one and the other is grating.

Muse Conflict

There’s the work, too. If you’re trying to get something started, there’s that blank page/screen/stone tablet staring you in the face, daring you to make a mark. You might be well into a manuscript, only to have it turn around and start fighting you for every word. The muse might be throwing words at you by the bushel… only they’re all bad.

Value Conflict

And what about the worthiness of that work? After all, the writer’s conflict is of a very different, arguably far less intense, type that that of soldiers, police officers, emergency room personnel, and the like. Especially for the part-time writer, there’s a nagging voice in your head sometimes that tries to convince you you’re wasting valuable time making stuff up, and you have to argue back, or summon the fortitude to ignore it.

artsyWriterPicConflict is the woven into the heart of every story, and into the life of every writer. It’s inescapable. My though? Embrace it. Make it your guide and see where it takes you.

Cheers,

 

CarsonCraigSignatureCroppedTransparent

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Tools for Writers: Keeping a Daily Average

I’m a bit of a geek, so I enjoy playing with spreadsheets sometimes. If you’re similarly afflicted, you might be interested in something I’ve come up to track my productivity over time.

It’s easy to track your words written per day and watch the total as it gets bigger and bigger on a line chart. It’s fun, too, and I find it every encouraging to see that squiggle reach a little more skyward each day. (Except on editing days; then it can take dip. Feh.)

Wonderful as it is, the word total graph is always going to be moving up, overall. It doesn’t really tell you how effective your writing time is. I decided a good way to check that would be to keep a running average per day, based on all the writing days I’ve managed to accumulate for a specific project.

Here’s how to do that…

  1. Create a spreadsheet (I use MS Excel, but you can use whatever you like) with columns for Date (bet you can guess this one), Words (cumulative total), Written (words written today), Notes (for whatever comments), and Avg (for the average). It looks more or less like this:

columns-for-avg

  1. Set up the Written column so the word total from yesterday is subtracted from the world total for today, to give you a total for today. For example, in the illustration above, 17,651 words total for 8/10 subtracted from 18,138 words total for 8/11 give me 487 words for 8/11. You might have some in-line notes or something that keeps this from being exact, but the number will still be, as we say in the day-job world, “directionally correct.” In other words, close enough to give you an idea how you’re doing.
  2. Set up the Avg column so that the first cell in the formula stays the same and the second one increments when you drag or copy the formula to the cell below it. I know, that’s clear as a London fog, so let me break it down:
    1. Leave the first Avg cell, E2, blank, since there’s nothing to average yet.
    2. In E3, set the formula as “=AVERAGE($C$2:C3).”
      1. The $ signs keep the “C2” from turning into a “C3” and hosing your formula when you move it down to the next cell.
      2. The numeric value in the plain “C3” is going to increment by one when you move it copy it to the next cell down, which is what you want.
    3. Every day your write:
      1. Record your total words in Words.
      2. Copy or drag the formula in Written down to the current row.
      3. Copy or drag the formula in Avg down to the current row.
  1. After you’ve got a few rows of data:
    1. Select the data in the Date column.
    2. Keeping the Date data selected, also select the data in Avg. (To do this in MS Excel for Windows, you hold down the Ctrl key while selecting. If you use something different… Google it if you don’t know.)
    3. Using the Insert menu, select the line graph from the Charts section, pick the one you like best and click on it.
  2. You’re done! If all went well, you’ll get a chart that looks like this:

avg-chart

I can use this chart now to see how I’m doing, productivity-wise. Looks like I’ve been going pretty steadily at 5-600 words per writing day since September 2016, which is where I like to be. I can also tell that I had a higher average when school was out and I had more time in the mornings, without the chaos of getting people ready for school.

So, there you go. Go on and geek out. May your averages be high.

Cheers,

Carson

 

Please leave a comment, and maybe the Good Fairy will bring Wishie some shoes.

wishie-cropped-for-090916

 

Nascent Novelists: Don’t Let Fear of Failure Stop You

 

tunnelThe Tunnel

The time just before starting your novel is like standing at the mouth of a dark, strange railway tunnel, preparing to enter. You don’t know where the other end comes out; you may think you know, but you can’t really be certain until you’ve walked the whole way through. You don’t know exactly what awaits you inside. There might be bats, or rats, or giant spiders. A speeding train might appear out of nowhere, hurtling toward you, glaring with its one bright eye. It might even race up behind you and smash you flat before you even have a chance to turn around.

Putrid Failure

Scariest of all, failure might be waiting for you in that tunnel, by which I mean failure to finish the novel. Fear of failure can be so large and awful its putrid stench can reach out of the tunnel and wrap itself around you before you even set foot inside. It can make you freeze to the spot, where you’ll stay for a long time, maybe the rest of your life, wishing you could go in, but not quite finding the will to take a step. It can make you turn around and walk away, thinking anything that smells that bad can’t possibly be worth getting close to, much less grappling with. It can make all those voices in your head that say you’re not good enough and that this writing business is a waste of time drown out every creative impulse you ever had.

A mighty slayer of dreams, fear of failure is. (Is that a Yoda quote?)

failureBridgeAcceptance

So what’s a writer to do? Or an almost-nascent novelist, standing on the hairy cusp of doing and not doing?

I suppose there are many different answers to this question, but here’s mine:

I said, “Okay, I’m going to fail. Fine.” Once I accepted the worst, failure lost a lot of its power. It didn’t smell as bad or look as big.

I took a step into the tunnel and started walking, one slow step at a time.

And I failed. I came up with stinky plot lines. I created characters that wouldn’t work. Settings both preposterous and unappealing bloomed from my keyboard. But each time I failed, I patched up the disaster or razed it and rebuilt, and then moved on to the next failure.

After several years of doing this, I came out the other end of the tunnel, into the sunshine, with a finished novel. Failure and I had made an odd friendship over all that time, and as I walked away from the tunnel it stood at the entrance with a long face, waving.

“Don’t be so bummed out,” I said, “I’ll see you right down there,” and I pointed. Not far down the track stood another tunnel.

I ran for it.

 

My Pal, the Subconscious (and my Smart Spouse)

041016subconsciousNot Writing… Consciously

For the last week, I’ve been camping on a barrier island in the Florida Keys, running around with a group of Boy Scouts, including my son. We explored, we fished, we snorkeled, and we ate – a lot. I discovered the joys of sleeping in a hammock, after years of tossing and turning on the ground. It was a joyful time spent with the young person I love the most.

I did not think about writing my novel once…

…not consciously, at any rate. But when the sand started to come out of my ears at the end, I discovered the novel was still there. I hadn’t been thinking about it, but somewhere in my brain, the story was churning away, telling itself to my subconscious.

When we left on the trip, my second novel (working title, “The Farthest Hour”) was giving me some small measure of fits. I had to get my heroine out of a compound surrounded by a formidable wall – thick, tall, and topped with a myriad of pointy bits. I was getting her over said wall, and there was plenty of action, but on the whole the result was, well, kind of meh.

The Subconscious to the Rescue041016mindtriangle

My clever wife had suggested that I send the character under the wall instead of over. It was a good idea, but somehow, I couldn’t wrap my imagination around it and I had to leave that loose end dangling when I left for the wilderness. Then, with the island trip over, my subconscious knocked on the door of my waking mind and presented me a silver platter with a vision of the idea. Not only could I take my heroine under the wall, I could use the scene to build up two or three characters whose roles in the story have to this point been uncertain. In addition, I had an image of what “under the wall” would look like and what it would take to get there – think miserable prisoners and metric tons of stinky muck.

Certainly, going underneath the wall has been done numerous times before, which opens me to charges of being trite, but if it’s good enough for George R. R. Martin (in one of her early conquests, the forces of Daenerys Targaryen go under the city walls via the sewers to attack) and J. R. R. Tolkien (they went under the mountain, remember?), surely it’s good enough for me, And surely I can make it my own.

What’s In It for You?

So, what’s the point for my fellow fiction writers, especially those of us who ply the craft part-time? I’d say there are bound to be times in your life when writing is just not going to fit, no way, no how. But that doesn’t mean your creative process has to stop altogether. Let your subconscious chew on things for a while, and hopefully when you return to creating fiction you’ll have some choice ideas on your plate. (It also helps to have a clever and beautiful wife.)

Tweaking the Subconscious

Here are a half-dozen ideas to keep your brain-pixies percolating:

  • Don’t worry about not writing; the time will come (with some attention on your part, but attention is not worry).
  • Keep an ideas list.
  • Knock out a 5-minute mind map of ideas once in a while.
  • Keep a swipe document with you when you watch TV and jot down good ideas you want to use.
  • Get enough sleep.
  • In bed, before you drop off, think about your novel; it might prime the pump of your subconscious.

I wish you the best. See you next time!

 

A Novel-Writing Easter

keyboard fingersKind of About Writing

Well, great God almighty, noveleers, it’s been a hell of a first quarter here at the house of Carson Craig.

There may not be a load of stuff about writing in this post, but there’s going to be a little, and I think it’s important.

The Day JobdayJob

At my day job, content-spinner for a big corporation, my whole work group started the new year all excited about a wealth of new post-fodder we were about to come into possession of, and new people coming in to swell the digital might of our chattering band. All this was thanks to some reshuffling of corporate principals and powers.

Then, on the first Friday of the year, we were all informed that instead of enhancing our efforts, said reshuffling had resulted in our entire group becoming redundant, meaning: no job for you! We were given two options: 1) Stay 30 days, get a severance package, and say goodbye. 2) Enter the 60-Day Dance of Death; that is, take 60 days to find another job inside the company and, if that doesn’t happen, get severance package and say goodbye.

What with a teenaged son to feed and a self-employed spouse to insure, I took the Dance. I was fortunate. On day 57 I landed a job. Deep breaths were taken. Brows were mopped. Scotch was drunk.

The 60-Day Dance sucked. But, upon reflection, there was more to it than suckage.

easterEaster Day

Now I am sitting here writing this post and it is Easter Day. Whether you’re a Christian or not, it’s fairly likely you’re aware this is a day when we (I’m an Episcopalian—“Catholic lite” should give you a rough idea) celebrate Jesus’s return to life after being stone dead for three days—or more like, two and a half days, maybe, since he is crucified on Friday, buried on Saturday, and then busting out of his tomb on Sunday.

Whether or not you believe this literally happened, the story itself is about amazing and wonderful things coming out of complete and total garbage. Jesus dies a horrible death, but comes back to life and soon inspires his followers to start a new religious movement.

My experience is nothing compared to that, but I did find that flowers quickly grew in the muck of the 60-Day Dance.

Co-workers from my entire, long tenure at this company came out of the woodwork to help and touched me with their concern and generosity.

My wife and son impressed me anew with their love and patience with me, a person who is often not so easy to live with.

People prayed and meditated for me. They asked me how it was going and supported me. My neighborhood community. My Boy Scout community. My church community. My workout community. My writing community.

I got a cool new day job. It’s kind of technical and kind of customer-facing (big company customers), which is very cool.

And now, here’s the writing part. I discovered that I really could write fiction under conditions of adversity. On the days—and there were many—when I felt absolutely drained of imagination and ability, I was still able to sit at the keyboard and knock out paragraphs, the majority of them somewhat serviceable. I think that means I probably have the intestinal fortitude to stick with the art.

So, yay. A writer’s life for me, at least part-time (for now).

Maybe you’ll have a writing Easter one day. I hope you come out of it okay, and I hope it makes you a stronger writer.

See you next time.

  • Carson

 

Tools for Novel Writing: Not a Journal

list-post1Not a Journal

Keeping a journal? Feh. This blog is about as close as I get. I know there are lots of writers who are into setting down their observations, thoughts, feelings and grocery lists in journals, and that’s okay, whatever scuffs your linoleum, but to me a journal is something for which you write all the entries the night before you’re supposed to hand them in to the professor.

But there are some things I like to keep track of. Actually, a lot of things, since my personality combines an attention deficit with a love of organization. If I don’t stay organized, my head tends to explode from the pressure of a thousand different priorities, each one angling for the number one spot in my mental parade.

So it is with writing. It’s important, I think, to save your writing notions in a list somewhere; otherwise, they’re going to get lost. You may wind up saving a lot of stuff that’s fit only for the compost heap, but you’re likely to save a few gems here and there, and those make the whole thing worth it. You may also find instances where two or more lame ideas, when combined, make something great.

I have two writing-related lists I add to from time to time. One is “Novel Ideas” and the other is “Swipe List.”

novelIdeasNovel Ideas

The first is obvious enough. Whenever an idea pops into my head for a whole novel, or part of a novel, I open up the list and stick it in there. Here

The first is obvious enough. Whenever an idea pops into my head for a whole novel, or part of a novel, I open up the list and stick it in there. Here are a couple:

Character forced to leave family, town, everything, due to attack. Parents make her/him flee. Lives for revenge, to get inheritance back.

The Extreme Medium (character is a fortune teller, brands herself as this)

The first one is pretty ordinary, trite, even, but it’s there because it might be useful one day. The second one popped into my head one day, I’m not sure why, but I love a silly pun, so I saved it. So, hmm… maybe Betty’s town is attacked when she’s a little girl and she has to flee; all her inheritance is ripped away. As an adult, she becomes The Extreme Medium and uses her otherworldly pals to get justice for herself and her fellow victims from the oppressors who attacked her town so long ago. Or maybe not.

ASDLABS_Just_Steal_It-300x200The Swipe List

The Swipe List is one I’ve just come up with recently. I try to have it handy on an electro-gadget somewhere while I’m watching TV. I’ll also pull it out when I’m

The Swipe List is one I’ve just come up with recently. I try to have it handy on an electro-gadget somewhere while I’m watching TV. I’ll also pull it out when I’m reading, if I come across a theft-worthy idea. Lots of are ideas that have been used umpteen times, but you can always reswizzle an old concept to make it your own, and I find it beneficial to have a go-to list of proven ideas to draw from. Here are a couple of items:

A decoy to draw the good guys away from the real thing (or to draw the bad guys away from the good)

Coming upon a room or home that was abandoned in a rush, years before, and seeing the stuff there unmoved, dusty, with something significant there, perhaps

The Swipe List is also helpful because it makes me play closer attention to how shows and movies are put together, and attention to structure is always a good exercise for a writer.

I recommend keeping these lists, or whatever lists work for you, in some kind of Internet-based environment that you can access from any connected device. I use Google Docs and Dropbox, myself, but there’s Evernote, Box, OneDrive, and a host of others. Although much of the stuff you save will be trash, a few things will be treasures, and when you look through the lists, you’ll be able to tell them by the sparkle.

Please be so kind as to share a comment on your own listing practices, or even your journaling practices.

Until next time, keep dreaming stuff up and writing it down.

Tools for Novel Writers: Character Traits, Inner Resources

Character Who?Queen Elizabeth the first was quite a character

In a normal blog, you’d expect a post with “Character Traits” in the title to be about crafting great fictional characters. Well, that’s a good subject, but this pile of prose has nothing to do with it. What I want to talk about is your character—and mine, for that matter.

Lots of people start novels, but few finish them. I got to thinking about why and, in my uncontested position as Lord Mayor and Judge of All the World, I concluded that the non-finishers either don’t have the character traits needed, don’t have them in sufficient quantity, or they possess them but haven’t brought them to bear on their writing.

Persistence

There’s nothing more important to a novelist than stick-to-itiveness. A novel is a multiple-draft journey of 50,000 words or better. You’ve got to plan and execute, then plan and execute again, until the thing is done enough to put a fork in. If you’re a part-time writer like me, composing in dribs and drabs during the week, just cranking out a first draft can take a couple of years—I speak from first-hand experience on that.

Once you get the novel ready for publication, then you’ve either got to market it to agents and publishers, if you’re going the traditional route, or directly to the public, if you’re self-publishing. Achieving success in either of these modes takes time, as well. And don’t forget the second novel, and the third, and all the others. Often it takes a writer several books to get anywhere at all.

So that’s persistence. If you don’t have it, get it. If you do have it, shine its light one your novel writing.

Patience

Patience goes hand in hand with persistence. While you’re walking the long road that is crafting a novel, you’re going to run into the heebie-jeebies of haste. You’ll be eager to finish every single draft, especially the last one. And then you’ll be tearing your hair out making changes from editors, agents, or other valued critics, like beta readers, wishing you could OMG just put it out there already!

At times like these you’ve got to push back from the desk (not for too long) and whisper “patience grasshopper” to yourself. (If you don’t know where the grasshopper thing is from, you owe it to yourself to find out!) Patience isn’t just the quality of calm endurance; it is also the quality of being in the present moment with whatever you’re doing. If you can focus on one day, one moment, one task of writing at a time, the patience comes a lot easier. Practice makes is easier, too.

So, that’s… wait for it…

Wait…

Wait…

Wait…

Wait…

Wait…

Patience.

See what I did there? Wasn’t that cute? No? Oh, well, on to the next topic.

Quiet and Solitude, Tolerance Thereof

You’re going to have to endure a certain amount of quiet isolation. When I say “silence” I’m not quite talking literally; for example, I like listening to some downtempo chill when I’m writing. Stephen King listens to hard rock and even metal, I think. Others like just freakin’ quiet, I’m sure. And I don’t know of anybody who writes in a crowded room where they are expected to respond to conversation; coffee houses work (for some) because, even though there are people around, you don’t have to deal with them.

What I mean is you have to create a space that makes it possible for you to create characters, plot and all that good stuff. Once you’ve made it, you have to commit to spending lots of time there; otherwise, no novel.

Focus

A person who lets themselves be distracted by a lot of different things is going to have a hard time completing a novel. I won’t say such a person can’t do it, just that it would be extra hard and extra slow. I know this very well, being of a somewhat “AD… ooh, shiny…” disposition myself. Even so, I have taught myself to focus little by little and after many years have become able to manage my distractible disposition. An hour is great for me; then I get up and stretch, or play a few minutes of guitar, or check on Facebook, or whatever—just for a few minutes. Then I get back to it. But during that hour, I am on task, not thinking about much else but the writing and taking the occasional sip of coffee.

Figure out what your focus rhythm is. If you can’t focus at all, you can learn. I learned a lot about focus by taking martial arts and yoga classes. Those physical pursuits require a level of attention that translates pretty well to writing. You can figure out something that will work for you, no doubt. But you’ve got to find it.

It’s Just Me

These observations on character traits needed for writing a novel are based on my own experience to date. Your mileage may vary. A lot. But I hope this piece gets you thinking about inner resources you can develop to make your writing better and more fun.

Let me and the other two readers know if you’ve got any other ideas about inner resources a novelist should develop and how they might do it.

Writing the Synopsis of a Novel

writers-block Man resting his head on his laptopWhen I write my next novel, I’m going to write the synopsis first. For one thing, my research tells me writing the thing first helps you frame up your novel and I’m certainly all over that. For another thing, I have recently discovered the writing the synopsis after the fact is a giant, festering pain in the wazoo.

This coming May, I’ll be attending the Atlanta Writer’s Conference, where I will submitting not one, but two types of synopses in hopes of receiving useful pointers from the learned minds of real live editors and agents. The first is the short one in my query letter, the initial pitch one sends to an agent or editor. The second is the long one that stands on its own, the one you send when said agent or editor invites you to do so.

To start off with, I read a book about writing query letters and synopses, The Sell Your Novel Toolkit by Elizabeth Lyons. It’s especially strong on the long synopses, in my opinion, and isn’t bad with queries. My best advice on query letters came from agentquery.com, specifically, the page titled “How to Write a Query Letter.” It has solid, succinct advice and a link to many queries that have actually won their authors agent representation or requests from publishers.

I can be pretty slow, sometimes (some would say all the time), so even after reading these resources, I had a hard time producing the materials. I took a precious vacation day, spent nine hours working just on the query letter, wrote three versions, and they all stunk. Before this, I had spent many hours working on the long synopsis and produced a five-page document that was only slightly more exciting than the phone book. (Non-old people, see the definition of “phone book” here.)

It was slow. It was painful. I was discouraged.

But then something wonderful happened.

The Saturday after that awful vacation day, I sat down and wrote another short, query-letter synopsis. It just poured out, natural as you please, and the result wasn’t bad at all. The Sunday after that, I wrote a long synopsis that came almost as easily, was two pages shorter than the previous five-page monster, and read like I had written it, instead of some robot.

There’s plenty of polishing left to do, but the bones are there, and a lot of the meat, too. (And that, Virginia, is what we call a mixed metaphor.)

One interesting thing (about time, right?): When I complained to my wife about wasting that vacation day, she demurred, pointing out that the frustrating work of that Friday had been necessary to get my brain to the point of producing Saturday and Sunday’s good results.

So, one thing I’ve learned: If you are writing them after your novel is done, throw the synopses onto the page as best you can, then walk away for a while and let them marinate in your subconscious. When you come back for another try, you may find that they roll right out.

I’ll probably have more to say about synopses in my next post, but for now, I am sick of writing anything and I’m going to stop. See you next time.

The Unexpected Moment in Novel Writing

privetHedgeThe Privet Hedge of Writing Semi-Doom

Many times, when you’re writing or rewriting your novel, you’ll hit a brick wall. Well, maybe not a brick wall; more like a tall, thick privet hedge. You can’t seem to climb over it or dig under it and the sucker extends from horizon to horizon. It’s not exactly writer’s block, this condition. With writer’s block, you’re standing in front of that hedge and you’re certain there’s nothing on the other side and there’s never going to be (at least that’s the way I think of it, and it’s my blog, so there). This is more like writer’s blah. You’re pretty sure there’s something on the other side, but you have no idea what it is or how you’re going to get there.

A Real-Life Examplereallifelogo

Now that I’ve whiled away a little of your time with an analogy, let me give you a concrete example. (Yeah, yeah, I know… about time.) I’m currently in the process of planning my second novel, based on the assumption that I’m going to finish my first one before I shuffle off to the eternal Buffalo. (So I’m an optimist. Sue me.) I had a dandy start for the thing all drafted up in full prose, with shooting, blood, crazy characters and a briefcase full of shrunken heads. Unfortunately, upon doing further planning, I discovered that none of it worked, except that case of heads. Damned if I was going to let go of that. Trouble was, I didn’t know how to get the case into the hands of the hero, which was a problem, because I was pretty sure the whole plot revolved on that one circumstance.

I tried all my usual tricks. I stared at the ceiling. I wrote a few outlines. I did some free writing. I prayed. I cast the bones and threw the stones. I banged my forehead on the laptop.

All this availed me nothing.

Let-GoLet it Go (Not the Song, for Once)

Finally, I just walked away from it. After all, it’s novel number two and I’m just in the planning stages—there’s no hurry. A few days later, that beginning started nibbling at the corner of my brain again. I was doing something more or less mindless—driving, gardening, playing with a loaded handgun, something like that—and I decided to give that matter some play in the old brain, just on a casual basis.

And, boom! A new beginning presented itself. I don’t know if it’s the be-all, end-all new beginning, but it’s something to work with for the moment, at least. What a relief!

unexpectedMomentThe Unexpected Moment

It was an unexpected solution at an unexpected moment. I think it worked because:

  1. I had let the matter rest a while.
  2. When I thought about it again, I wasn’t trying so hard, I was just casual about it.

Maybe this is a sure-fire tool for me, maybe it’s not, but it worked once, so I’m going to try it again. Maybe it could work for you, too.

Keep writing and good luck reaching “The End.”

Rewriting Your Novel: Cutting the Fat to Improve the Story

movie extrasThe Coolest Cuts of All

The Extras

Not too long ago, my niece and nephew got roles as extras in The Hunger Games, a lot of which was shot in our city. Under normal circumstances, these two are as handsome a pair of humans as you could want, but the movie studio decided that their slender builds and pale complexions made them perfect for District 9. Put them in ragged clothes, smear some dirt on them and, voilà, half-starved, oppressed young coal-country yokels.

Family and friends were all a-quiver with excitement. Discussions of what scenes they might appear in and where they might be spotted ruled dinner tables across the land.

Then we found out that most of their scenes got cut. The land was filled with sighs of disappointment.

Man cutting down a treeCuts Most Cruel

So, why, oh why, were my relations deleted? While poor judgment on the part of the filmmakers remains a possibility, the real reason is probably that their scenes didn’t contribute enough to the film to make them worth keeping. After all, when you’ve got just two to three hours to tell a complex story, you’ve got to get pretty picky about what stays in and equally ruthless about what comes out, if not more so.

I’ve run across similar issues during the rewrite of novel #1. (Yeah, still working on it, and thinking of changing the title from “Thin Spots” to “The Neverending Story,” copyrights be damned. Anyway…) Some lovely bits have gone the way of the niece and nephew’s movie scenes, excised from the work to lie on the cutting-room floor.

girl with a chainsawThe Joy of Cutting

Alas and alackaday? Well, not really. With every scene I’ve cut, the novel has become a more sinewy thing, more lithe, not weighted down by a lot of literary belly fat.

It’s not so hard to tell when a scene can go. All you have to do is ask yourself if it’s moving the story forward. Is new information conveyed? Does a character change? If you took the thing out, would anybody know the difference or detect a hole in the story? If not, out it goes.

This rule applies even to scenes you really love. (Also to characters, sub-plots, everything.)

I have a scene I really like, where damned souls are playing baseball, the ball itself is the former dictator of a small island nation and a soul who can’t hit gets hung from a lamp post by the loin cloth. It’s so much fun! I loved writing it. But it doesn’t do a blessed thing to further the plot, so… yank.

I do save these cuttings. Some of them may make their way into future novels, but they won’t be in this one.

Go thou and do likewise.