"I was sick when my dog ate my manuscript, just before my ex came over, wanting to make up."
Last time around, I spoke of the importance of deadlines. In the world of print, there's a whole lot of people who can't do what they need to do (usually in order to be paid) until you complete your literary task. If nothing else, an audience awaits you. Produce on schedule and you become a joyous habit for them. Don't produce on time, they find another addiction.
However, as vital as deadlines are, there are times when it's understandable to ignore them.
My wife works in a day care and is thus exposed to several dozen small children. The age range spans infants to sixth graders and all of them seem to be carriers for the disease du joir. Well, the missus contracted a rather vigorous stomach flu and being the dutiful husband and faux nurse that I was, I got the bug too. Boy, did I get the bug! Without going into glorious breakfast-ruining detail, let's just say I lost ten pounds in ten minutes the hard way. But I digress ...
I've missed deadlines. I'll miss more (this blog notwithstanding). So will you. There are times when it is unavoidable, however, so learn to live with it.
For instance, you cannot predict getting sick (as I can attest). We should all try to take care of ourselves like actors during the last two weeks of rehearsals. When the premiere looms, you will never find a more health-conscious group of people than actors. We suddenly remember to take our vitamins every day. We somehow find time for a power nap and rediscover the joys of fresh vegetables. We should remember how to take such care of ourselves every week of the year, right? Uh-huh ... pull the other one.
However, there are times when illness is as avoidable as either Death or Taxes. In that case, perhaps the proper course of action might be to work as far ahead of deadline as possible. Very few editors will shout at you for turning in your work ahead of schedule. If you aren't sure your editor is one of those, run a test where you amaze him/her with your deadline-meeting skills.
But you can't predict illness and most editors should understand. Once you believe your physical condition will affect your writing negatively, let the editor know! Sometimes, you can't give your boss too much information.
Sometimes, you cannot schedule a needed interview for an article. Or some component, such as a book to assist with your research doesn't arrive in time. A lot of this can be solved in advance with some proper time-management skills, of course. Remember, the local library is open all week long except holidays. Get your Plan B in place when lining up your A because crap occurs.
There are also times when nothing comes together for your article. I was writing an article on a comic book series that was announced back in the '80s, but never saw print. So I got the phone number of the writer and contact info on the artist. After a month's worth of attempts, neither one would get back to me. Since this was a spin-off of an existing series, I contacted the artist of the parent comic because we'd talked before and gotten along quite well. It seems that he'd done a podcast and pretty much outlined his involvement -- or lack thereof -- with the spin-off. While I'd rather have talked to my friend -- always looking for an excuse -- I could still use the podcast as a source. Then I also got ahold of the editor of the series.via Facebook. His more-polite-than-I-probably-deserved reply was that this spin-off represented the absolute nadir of his professional life and he'd spent many years trying to forget this book. So I had virtually no one who could, or would, discuss the comic with me.
(actually, he was quite polite about it ... but what's a little drama in the retelling?)
Once I realized the unwritability of this article, I contacted my editor immediately! He reassured me that this happened all the time, that sometimes an article simply can't be written. This had happened with two other writers for this issue, it seemed. But he was glad to know as soon as he did so he could make alternate plans. It seems he had his Plan B in place already.
Despite my editor's reassurances, I was annoyed that the history of this aborted comic series would be lost to time. But I digress ...
When you run into problems, talk to your editor immediately! The editor may have a solution to your problem. If nothing else, the sooner they know of your dilemma, the sooner they can design a solution, whether it includes your work or not. It beats the heck out of blowing off the deadline. So own up! It's easier on everyone involved.
But if you can't write the article, for whatever good and proper reason, you cannot write it. But be professional, apologize, and perhaps you'll get another assignment because the editor would probably rather have a good article from you rather than one you simply ground out to make a deadline. Now what about that dreaded deadline? It is the alpha and omega of publishing?
When I worked in newspapers, there was one deadline and it was to be adhered to uber alles! In the daily journalism trade, the time between the deadline and going to press is a matter of hours. In magazines, it is a little more flexible, especially if your editor and publisher have their acts together. As one of my editors told me (and I was sworn to secrecy so guess all you want, I won't confirm or deny), "There are deadlines ... and there are deadlines."
Many print magazine editors will tell YOU what the deadline is, but it isn't necessarily his/hers. Many editors will set a deadline that gives them time to handle problems, to edit the article, to move it through the gauntlet of production, and then to publication. You are not the only player in the editor's game, remember?
But treat their deadline as THE deadline. It's all a part of keeping your editor good and gruntled, which could lead to further assignments. If they choose to cut you some slack by cutting into their production time, be grateful and cooperative. But don't assume that your writing is so precious that you are worth blowing a publishing deadline. Chances are that you aren't.
What's the best defense against missing a deadline? Manage your time and resources so you can turn in your work before the dreaded date ahead of time or at the latest, on the day of deadline. If blowing the deadline is unavoidable on your part due to illness or other difficulties, communication with your editor is as vital as communicating with your friends and family.
And I blew last week's deadline and almost this one's. However, there has been illness and other difficulties as of late, all of which have been dealt with. Fortunately, I am my own editor so I get to do that. After all, there are deadlines ... and there are deadlines.
By the way, discussion is welcome in the convenient box below. Or if you're shy, drop me a line at bkmorris56@gmail.com. And let's see what I come up with next week ... on time, if I do this right.
So discuss already ... what is your experience with deadlines? What's kept you from making them? What do you do to make sure you beat the submission date? Have any horror stories about trying to reach the finish line on time? I'd love to hear it!
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Monday, July 16, 2012
"Deadlines are deadlines."
One of my first writing gigs was the high school newspaper. In fact, my second regular writing job was the college newspaper. When you are assigned a story, or your pitch is accepted, one of the things you are assigned is a deadline. There's a reason for that.
Writing for publication does no good until it's published. And very few -- might as well call it none -- will put out their wares without a target date. Now deadlines can be missed ... and we'll go over that a little later.
(if you aren't assigned a deadline, be nervous. Very rarely will an editor assign a piece without a deadline unless that person wants filler for when someone else can't come through. If you are contracted for filler, that's okay, I guess ... but your piece doesn't elicit the love it should from your editor and might get lost in the shuffle. I submitted an article to someone I still do business with as a transcriber and he said he'd use it when he got space ... and we've never spoken of it since as if it was an experience shared in a seedy bar that we'd never mention to each other again. So demand some love of your own and go for a deadline commitment)
Some writers love deadlines -- I'm one of them. Given that I come from a foundation of newspaper work, it's good to have a target to complete the task or else it might never get done. There's too many pages on Facebook to examine, too many hours of Jerry Springer to watch, too many comic books to read, so knowing that a piece has higher priority is a good thing.
Plus, the prospect of a deadline helps me to focus, almost as much as a word count. I've been told (read: accused) that if someone asked me for the time, I'd relate the history of clock making. Mea culpa. Anyway, without the limitations of a word count and more importantly, a deadline, I'd prattle on endlessly, drowning you in the width and breadth of my knowledge ... whether you wanted it or not.
Also, there's something about the ticking of the deadline clock that seems to unlock the best writer in me. I am forced to prioritize my research time and maintain my subject focus. Also, I don't overthink the article or story, which sometimes leads to questioning my writing choices.
When you make your deadline, it also marks you as a go-to person. Editors appreciate people who make their lives easier. Turning in your work on -- or better yet, ahead of -- schedule shows you possess a professional attitude and a commitment to meeting your editor's goals, the primary one of which is getting the magazine (whether online or old school paper, glue, and staples) out in a timely manner.
In regular print, a whole line of people are waiting for you to submit your writing. The editor knows he or she will require some time to edit your script, even if your prose is flawless and your research golden. A graphics person might be waiting to lay out and design your article. An artist might be drumming his fingers, knowing that every minute he waits is putting off other drawing assignments and waiting on you is losing him money. The printer checks the calendar, knowing your publisher has booked time on the presses. The publisher seethes, knowing anything that delays the publication could cost him in late printing fees. A distributor years for your work to be delivered so he can dole out copies to book stores, supermarkets, and other outlets and hope to sell enough to justify your rack space. The retailer wants to make money from your work and in some cases, that storeowner has already paid for your books and wants nothing more than to recoup his/her investment.
Even more than all that, a reader is waiting to take in the fruits of your creativity. If your work is accepted by a periodical, the steady release of that magazine/newspaper gives the buyer a reason to enter a store where they might buy even more. If the periodical doesn't hit the stands at the promised time, the buyer loses faith in the magazine and may wind up spending money on something else. So when your publication finally hits the stands, the dough may not be budgeted for the purchase.
So it's not just you. A whole line of people will be affected by your ability to meet a deadline. It's not quite so critical online where many deadlines are pretty fluid. But if it runs through a regular press, you should adhere to your promised deadline as closely as you can. And even your work won't be immortalized in ink on dead trees, delivering your work on time, as I said earlier, shows you have the right stuff to make an editor's life easier.
And now that I've (hopefully) demonstrated how vital deadlines are, my next blog will ed-u-ma-cate you on when it's understandable to blow a deadline, how to not annoy your editor any more than you need to when you do, and why some deadlines are more rigid than others. I'll also tell you what made me think of deadlines ... because I skipped one too.
If you have any comments on this blog, feel free to leave them below. Or else you can drop me a note at bkmorris56@gmail.com. So discuss, already ...
One of my first writing gigs was the high school newspaper. In fact, my second regular writing job was the college newspaper. When you are assigned a story, or your pitch is accepted, one of the things you are assigned is a deadline. There's a reason for that.
Writing for publication does no good until it's published. And very few -- might as well call it none -- will put out their wares without a target date. Now deadlines can be missed ... and we'll go over that a little later.
(if you aren't assigned a deadline, be nervous. Very rarely will an editor assign a piece without a deadline unless that person wants filler for when someone else can't come through. If you are contracted for filler, that's okay, I guess ... but your piece doesn't elicit the love it should from your editor and might get lost in the shuffle. I submitted an article to someone I still do business with as a transcriber and he said he'd use it when he got space ... and we've never spoken of it since as if it was an experience shared in a seedy bar that we'd never mention to each other again. So demand some love of your own and go for a deadline commitment)
Some writers love deadlines -- I'm one of them. Given that I come from a foundation of newspaper work, it's good to have a target to complete the task or else it might never get done. There's too many pages on Facebook to examine, too many hours of Jerry Springer to watch, too many comic books to read, so knowing that a piece has higher priority is a good thing.
Plus, the prospect of a deadline helps me to focus, almost as much as a word count. I've been told (read: accused) that if someone asked me for the time, I'd relate the history of clock making. Mea culpa. Anyway, without the limitations of a word count and more importantly, a deadline, I'd prattle on endlessly, drowning you in the width and breadth of my knowledge ... whether you wanted it or not.
Also, there's something about the ticking of the deadline clock that seems to unlock the best writer in me. I am forced to prioritize my research time and maintain my subject focus. Also, I don't overthink the article or story, which sometimes leads to questioning my writing choices.
When you make your deadline, it also marks you as a go-to person. Editors appreciate people who make their lives easier. Turning in your work on -- or better yet, ahead of -- schedule shows you possess a professional attitude and a commitment to meeting your editor's goals, the primary one of which is getting the magazine (whether online or old school paper, glue, and staples) out in a timely manner.
In regular print, a whole line of people are waiting for you to submit your writing. The editor knows he or she will require some time to edit your script, even if your prose is flawless and your research golden. A graphics person might be waiting to lay out and design your article. An artist might be drumming his fingers, knowing that every minute he waits is putting off other drawing assignments and waiting on you is losing him money. The printer checks the calendar, knowing your publisher has booked time on the presses. The publisher seethes, knowing anything that delays the publication could cost him in late printing fees. A distributor years for your work to be delivered so he can dole out copies to book stores, supermarkets, and other outlets and hope to sell enough to justify your rack space. The retailer wants to make money from your work and in some cases, that storeowner has already paid for your books and wants nothing more than to recoup his/her investment.
Even more than all that, a reader is waiting to take in the fruits of your creativity. If your work is accepted by a periodical, the steady release of that magazine/newspaper gives the buyer a reason to enter a store where they might buy even more. If the periodical doesn't hit the stands at the promised time, the buyer loses faith in the magazine and may wind up spending money on something else. So when your publication finally hits the stands, the dough may not be budgeted for the purchase.
So it's not just you. A whole line of people will be affected by your ability to meet a deadline. It's not quite so critical online where many deadlines are pretty fluid. But if it runs through a regular press, you should adhere to your promised deadline as closely as you can. And even your work won't be immortalized in ink on dead trees, delivering your work on time, as I said earlier, shows you have the right stuff to make an editor's life easier.
And now that I've (hopefully) demonstrated how vital deadlines are, my next blog will ed-u-ma-cate you on when it's understandable to blow a deadline, how to not annoy your editor any more than you need to when you do, and why some deadlines are more rigid than others. I'll also tell you what made me think of deadlines ... because I skipped one too.
If you have any comments on this blog, feel free to leave them below. Or else you can drop me a note at bkmorris56@gmail.com. So discuss, already ...
Monday, July 9, 2012
"Out of the moment? More like out of your mind!"
I used to be a mortician. No, I didn't take all the courses and get the piece of paper that made it official. But I worked as the good right hand of someone who did and he assured me I was an honorary member of this noble profession. I wish he'd been an auto mechanic because perhaps I could have been considered a Lamborghini. But I digress ...
But for one year, I worked in Estate Planning and funeral pre-arrangements for a local cemetery company. It was very satisfying work in that three years before, when I'd lost my mother and had to cope with all the funeral planning by myself, I was glad to help other people solve their problems before they occurred. There wasn't a lot of money in the field at that time, but that's another issue.
By the way, even more of another issue is to when you blow off a funeral consultant by saying, "I'm not planning on dying any time soon." Hey, tinhorn! Neither did (fill in the blank of your favorite celebrity/friend/relative)! I would tell the more obnoxious clients, "Like the old commercial used to say, you'll either pay me now or you'll pay me later." But I digress again ...
When you throw yourself into a job, you learn all you can about it in order to do it well. Having held a number of jobs in my life, I can discuss not only writing, but also doughnut making, funeral procedures, forensics, acting, water distribution, comic book retailing, inventory control, graphic novel production, and even certain retail aspects of the adult entertainment industry. And usually, that interest doesn't go away when one leaves that field of endeavor ... nor does the knowledge.
Not long after I left the funeral industry back in the mid-90s, I watched an episode of Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman. The episode dealt with the world's most famous reporters investigating a plot to fake the deaths of various gangsters to evade arrest and naturally, several scenes took place in a cemetery. In one scene, towards the end of the graveside service, someone performs the "ashes to ashes, dust to dust" ceremony and tosses a handful of dirt on the bare coffin lid before the rest of the berm was shoveled onto the bare coffin.
Immediately, my jaw dropped like my belt buckle had turned into white dwarf material. From my work in the funeral biz, I knew that caskets were placed inside vaults made of either PVC or cement. I was told this was not because of a need to help preserve the body or the casket, but the cemetery's desire to minimize the amount of ground that settled post-burial, thus to facilitate grounds keeping. But for whatever reason, the vault on Lois & Clark should have been sealed before the dirt went on and this kinda took a great deal of the pleasure from the story for me. And it wasn't even a major plot point. The scene simply made a decent visual for the audience, not a sin in itself. However, the incidence could have been done correctly or not at all for what it contributed to the tale being told.
How could it have been fixed? If the writer had done the research, the scene would have been written correctly with the vault being sealed first. The drama and information needed for that scene to function would have been delivered as the burial was more "window dressing" for the program than anything else. It made for a good visual, but the error brought me out of the story's "moment." In a millisecond, I was no longer in Metropolis, a great metropolitan city, but back in my home, watching actors pretending to be Clark Kent and Lois Lane, shadowing another actor who pretended to be a criminal.
So how often do we think we know something and we're wrong? How often do we credit a weapon with more or less damage than it can truly do? Do we believe building a house is as simple as buying a lot and then hiring a carpenter? How long have the ninja arts been taught? Do we know how many members of our audience are shaken by our lack of knowledge and returned to the real world instead of remaining immersed in the one we've constructed?
Research is a vital part of the writing process. It gives the piece verisimilitude and gravitas (and other impressive-sounding qualities). It educates those who don't know and for those who do, it shows we care enough about their field of expertise to get it right. Heck, learning about something new might give us ideas for more tales, wouldn't it?
To "outsiders," someone's professional world may seem like an entirely foreign dimension. So when you build a world, just illuminating someone else's profession might appear totally foreign ... at least until you educate the audience enough to feel at home. The job becomes the environment itself as evidenced in books like The Andromeda Strain by Michael Crichton, Brad Meltzer's The Tenth Justice, or The Firm by John Grisham. Until reading those books, how up-to-date was the everyman's knowledge of immunologists, Supreme Court clerks, or even lawyers? As an attorney once told me, you could learn just as much about the legal profession from watching Perry Mason as you could from watching Wagon Train.
Doing the legwork on the facts is more than looking something up on Wikipedia, although I've been known to double-check their referenced materials. Researching might mean a Google/Ning/Yahoo search to find a variety of experts online. It might consist on making some phone calls to find a professor at a local university (and believe me, people appreciate sharing their knowledge with you) or another professional in the field that you can locate from the phone book or the Internet.
Simply explain why you want the information ("I'm writing this screenplay and I need to know how to repair a broken water man under pressure.") and ask if there is a convenient time to talk. Then bring your questions, a tape recorder (two, if you're paranoid like me), and notepad. If someone can give you ten minutes, plan your most important questions to be asked first and don't assume they'll be so flattered by your attention that they'll give you more time. If they do, demonstrate the appropriate amount of appreciation. Also, be sure to acknowledge their assistance somehow, whether it's giving them a credit in your article ("Special thanks to ... ") or naming a character after them. Give them the option of fact-checking your piece. Thank them a lot ... then go home and write a thank you letter (or e-mail, if you must).
If you care enough about your work, you want to make certain your facts are true. You do a disservice to an unfamiliar profession, as you do your own work, if you take the lazy way out.
So when have you caught a book or movie or TV show in the act of getting it wrong? Feel free to discuss in the comments area below or drop me an e-mail at bkmorris56@gmail.com if you have a comment or suggestion for a future column on creativity. And yeah, I'll give you credit. It's only fair. Discuss.
I used to be a mortician. No, I didn't take all the courses and get the piece of paper that made it official. But I worked as the good right hand of someone who did and he assured me I was an honorary member of this noble profession. I wish he'd been an auto mechanic because perhaps I could have been considered a Lamborghini. But I digress ...
But for one year, I worked in Estate Planning and funeral pre-arrangements for a local cemetery company. It was very satisfying work in that three years before, when I'd lost my mother and had to cope with all the funeral planning by myself, I was glad to help other people solve their problems before they occurred. There wasn't a lot of money in the field at that time, but that's another issue.
By the way, even more of another issue is to when you blow off a funeral consultant by saying, "I'm not planning on dying any time soon." Hey, tinhorn! Neither did (fill in the blank of your favorite celebrity/friend/relative)! I would tell the more obnoxious clients, "Like the old commercial used to say, you'll either pay me now or you'll pay me later." But I digress again ...
When you throw yourself into a job, you learn all you can about it in order to do it well. Having held a number of jobs in my life, I can discuss not only writing, but also doughnut making, funeral procedures, forensics, acting, water distribution, comic book retailing, inventory control, graphic novel production, and even certain retail aspects of the adult entertainment industry. And usually, that interest doesn't go away when one leaves that field of endeavor ... nor does the knowledge.
Not long after I left the funeral industry back in the mid-90s, I watched an episode of Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman. The episode dealt with the world's most famous reporters investigating a plot to fake the deaths of various gangsters to evade arrest and naturally, several scenes took place in a cemetery. In one scene, towards the end of the graveside service, someone performs the "ashes to ashes, dust to dust" ceremony and tosses a handful of dirt on the bare coffin lid before the rest of the berm was shoveled onto the bare coffin.
Immediately, my jaw dropped like my belt buckle had turned into white dwarf material. From my work in the funeral biz, I knew that caskets were placed inside vaults made of either PVC or cement. I was told this was not because of a need to help preserve the body or the casket, but the cemetery's desire to minimize the amount of ground that settled post-burial, thus to facilitate grounds keeping. But for whatever reason, the vault on Lois & Clark should have been sealed before the dirt went on and this kinda took a great deal of the pleasure from the story for me. And it wasn't even a major plot point. The scene simply made a decent visual for the audience, not a sin in itself. However, the incidence could have been done correctly or not at all for what it contributed to the tale being told.
How could it have been fixed? If the writer had done the research, the scene would have been written correctly with the vault being sealed first. The drama and information needed for that scene to function would have been delivered as the burial was more "window dressing" for the program than anything else. It made for a good visual, but the error brought me out of the story's "moment." In a millisecond, I was no longer in Metropolis, a great metropolitan city, but back in my home, watching actors pretending to be Clark Kent and Lois Lane, shadowing another actor who pretended to be a criminal.
So how often do we think we know something and we're wrong? How often do we credit a weapon with more or less damage than it can truly do? Do we believe building a house is as simple as buying a lot and then hiring a carpenter? How long have the ninja arts been taught? Do we know how many members of our audience are shaken by our lack of knowledge and returned to the real world instead of remaining immersed in the one we've constructed?
Research is a vital part of the writing process. It gives the piece verisimilitude and gravitas (and other impressive-sounding qualities). It educates those who don't know and for those who do, it shows we care enough about their field of expertise to get it right. Heck, learning about something new might give us ideas for more tales, wouldn't it?
To "outsiders," someone's professional world may seem like an entirely foreign dimension. So when you build a world, just illuminating someone else's profession might appear totally foreign ... at least until you educate the audience enough to feel at home. The job becomes the environment itself as evidenced in books like The Andromeda Strain by Michael Crichton, Brad Meltzer's The Tenth Justice, or The Firm by John Grisham. Until reading those books, how up-to-date was the everyman's knowledge of immunologists, Supreme Court clerks, or even lawyers? As an attorney once told me, you could learn just as much about the legal profession from watching Perry Mason as you could from watching Wagon Train.
Doing the legwork on the facts is more than looking something up on Wikipedia, although I've been known to double-check their referenced materials. Researching might mean a Google/Ning/Yahoo search to find a variety of experts online. It might consist on making some phone calls to find a professor at a local university (and believe me, people appreciate sharing their knowledge with you) or another professional in the field that you can locate from the phone book or the Internet.
Simply explain why you want the information ("I'm writing this screenplay and I need to know how to repair a broken water man under pressure.") and ask if there is a convenient time to talk. Then bring your questions, a tape recorder (two, if you're paranoid like me), and notepad. If someone can give you ten minutes, plan your most important questions to be asked first and don't assume they'll be so flattered by your attention that they'll give you more time. If they do, demonstrate the appropriate amount of appreciation. Also, be sure to acknowledge their assistance somehow, whether it's giving them a credit in your article ("Special thanks to ... ") or naming a character after them. Give them the option of fact-checking your piece. Thank them a lot ... then go home and write a thank you letter (or e-mail, if you must).
If you care enough about your work, you want to make certain your facts are true. You do a disservice to an unfamiliar profession, as you do your own work, if you take the lazy way out.
So when have you caught a book or movie or TV show in the act of getting it wrong? Feel free to discuss in the comments area below or drop me an e-mail at bkmorris56@gmail.com if you have a comment or suggestion for a future column on creativity. And yeah, I'll give you credit. It's only fair. Discuss.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
"I can never come up with an ending."
For years, I've said that when I write, I have no problem with kicking off the story and I can wrap it up with a fair amount of satisfaction. It's that "middle" part that gives me fits. And without the Holy Trinity of Plotting (Beginning, Middle, and Ending), you don't have a tale, merely a vignette.
When crafting a story, I've often found that creating the ending makes plotting easier. I simply cannot write just to write any more. I need structure or else I'd be typing nothing but character studies that drone on for pages and pages and pages. Heck, I'd really be doing little more than typing and not providing a story for the money, right?
For me, the ending might come first and I'd work to find a path to reach it or else the basic premise would come to me and then I'd have to come up with a way to resolve it. Either way, I'd have a beginning and an end ... now how would I get from point A to point C? That's where you construct your Middle.
In fiction, it would be too easy to create a path where learning of one person who knows someone else who has the phone number of somebody different. However, it's often far from exciting. A fiction plotline would involve various obstacles that prevent the protagonist from reaching the goal. Mike Hammer learns that someone picked up the evidence he needs to solve the case but the killer found that someone first. Superman needs a special herb to cure Lois Lane's Crimson Fever, but Clark Kent's been "arrested" for a "Get Out Of Jail" charity event sponsored by The Daily Planet. Babette found the recipe to Joe's favorite meat lasagna, the one that his mother used to make and would surely win his heart, but learns that her intended also intends to become a vegetarian until he finds his One True Love. Work around the characters' problems and you'll solve your plotting issues, one step at a time.
But don't make it easy on yourself. If it's a choice between coincidence or the character using their innate abilities to emerge victorious, always choose the latter. Sure, one coincidence can spice up a story, but don't rely on more than one per adventure. If you can summarize your plot and must use the words "he/she just happened to ..." then replot that section.
When outlining your non-fiction, consider that your story may also have an ending. Figure out your conclusion first and it makes wrapping up the piece a lot easier. Whether its a report for a school project or an article for your favorite magazine, even a book on a particular subject, how many times have you sat staring at the word processor, wondering how to tie the bow on the piece? I've personally written an article, several thousand words of deftly-crafted prose (I hope!) on a subject in a day or two, only to spend twice as long trying to find the words to conclude the piece without sounding like a five-year old or having to wish everyone a good night and to drive home safely.
This theory wasn't taught to me. If only! I was writing an article on Supergirl for BACK ISSUE Magazine #17 (available at http://twomorrows.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=373 or your local comics monger) and course, you have to do your research. In the Maid of Might's first appearance (Action Comics #252, May 1959), Kara Zor-El came to Earth, barely escaping the destruction of Argo City, a domed city that was launched into space as a result of the explosion of the planet Krypton. To allow Kara to use her powers while adjusting to Earth life, Superman decides she'd be his "secret weapon." As writer Mark Waid once said, when Superman got his butt kicked, Supergirl would have to save him.
Eventually, Supergirl was killed in The Crisis on Infinite Earths (a thrilling limited-run series that allowed DC to reboot its continuity) but appeared one more time in a short story in an anthology book as a spirit that would appear to those in dire need. And it dawned on me ... as Superman still flew high to save all of humankind with his great physical might, Kara Zor-El still existed to help those in spiritual and emotional need ... so she's still a "secret weapon." Once I had that in my mind, it was easy to craft my article to lead towards that ending. I could write the rest of the article with confidence, knowing my ending was all sewn up.
Now, that's not to say that you couldn't discover a better ending by the time your story ended. However, it takes a bit of pressure off your writing if you have the ending in sight. To quote a line from The Monkees' Head, when you see the end in sight, the beginning may arrive.
So when you get to your ending, are you as surprised as your readers may be? Do you know your ending before you begin typing? Discuss
(Note: this week, I'll be spending some spare time, such as that is, working on my website. When it's up and running, I'll gladly invite you to come on over, maybe even take advantage of my various writing services. But I'll try to deliver something this week.)
For years, I've said that when I write, I have no problem with kicking off the story and I can wrap it up with a fair amount of satisfaction. It's that "middle" part that gives me fits. And without the Holy Trinity of Plotting (Beginning, Middle, and Ending), you don't have a tale, merely a vignette.
When crafting a story, I've often found that creating the ending makes plotting easier. I simply cannot write just to write any more. I need structure or else I'd be typing nothing but character studies that drone on for pages and pages and pages. Heck, I'd really be doing little more than typing and not providing a story for the money, right?
For me, the ending might come first and I'd work to find a path to reach it or else the basic premise would come to me and then I'd have to come up with a way to resolve it. Either way, I'd have a beginning and an end ... now how would I get from point A to point C? That's where you construct your Middle.
In fiction, it would be too easy to create a path where learning of one person who knows someone else who has the phone number of somebody different. However, it's often far from exciting. A fiction plotline would involve various obstacles that prevent the protagonist from reaching the goal. Mike Hammer learns that someone picked up the evidence he needs to solve the case but the killer found that someone first. Superman needs a special herb to cure Lois Lane's Crimson Fever, but Clark Kent's been "arrested" for a "Get Out Of Jail" charity event sponsored by The Daily Planet. Babette found the recipe to Joe's favorite meat lasagna, the one that his mother used to make and would surely win his heart, but learns that her intended also intends to become a vegetarian until he finds his One True Love. Work around the characters' problems and you'll solve your plotting issues, one step at a time.
But don't make it easy on yourself. If it's a choice between coincidence or the character using their innate abilities to emerge victorious, always choose the latter. Sure, one coincidence can spice up a story, but don't rely on more than one per adventure. If you can summarize your plot and must use the words "he/she just happened to ..." then replot that section.
When outlining your non-fiction, consider that your story may also have an ending. Figure out your conclusion first and it makes wrapping up the piece a lot easier. Whether its a report for a school project or an article for your favorite magazine, even a book on a particular subject, how many times have you sat staring at the word processor, wondering how to tie the bow on the piece? I've personally written an article, several thousand words of deftly-crafted prose (I hope!) on a subject in a day or two, only to spend twice as long trying to find the words to conclude the piece without sounding like a five-year old or having to wish everyone a good night and to drive home safely.
This theory wasn't taught to me. If only! I was writing an article on Supergirl for BACK ISSUE Magazine #17 (available at http://twomorrows.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=373 or your local comics monger) and course, you have to do your research. In the Maid of Might's first appearance (Action Comics #252, May 1959), Kara Zor-El came to Earth, barely escaping the destruction of Argo City, a domed city that was launched into space as a result of the explosion of the planet Krypton. To allow Kara to use her powers while adjusting to Earth life, Superman decides she'd be his "secret weapon." As writer Mark Waid once said, when Superman got his butt kicked, Supergirl would have to save him.
Eventually, Supergirl was killed in The Crisis on Infinite Earths (a thrilling limited-run series that allowed DC to reboot its continuity) but appeared one more time in a short story in an anthology book as a spirit that would appear to those in dire need. And it dawned on me ... as Superman still flew high to save all of humankind with his great physical might, Kara Zor-El still existed to help those in spiritual and emotional need ... so she's still a "secret weapon." Once I had that in my mind, it was easy to craft my article to lead towards that ending. I could write the rest of the article with confidence, knowing my ending was all sewn up.
Now, that's not to say that you couldn't discover a better ending by the time your story ended. However, it takes a bit of pressure off your writing if you have the ending in sight. To quote a line from The Monkees' Head, when you see the end in sight, the beginning may arrive.
So when you get to your ending, are you as surprised as your readers may be? Do you know your ending before you begin typing? Discuss
(Note: this week, I'll be spending some spare time, such as that is, working on my website. When it's up and running, I'll gladly invite you to come on over, maybe even take advantage of my various writing services. But I'll try to deliver something this week.)
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