We'll be covering these in three major sections:
I. Preparation
II. The Draft
III. Redux & Completion
Let's jump right in with:
I. PREPARATION
Preparation is actually more important than you might think; in the literary world, there are "Plotters" and "Pantsers". Plotters, as you might expect, completely plot their stories before they ever start. While these stories often change a bit, they still set the framework and a general direction for their stories, which are (mostly) followed by the end product. Conversely, Pantsers "fly by the seat of their pants." Pantsers make the story up as the go along, which allows for quite a bit of directional freedom. While there is no correct way to write, if it's your first time out, I recommend being a Plotter until you have enough confidence to make the switch when the time comes (and if you want to at all).
Regardless of which type of author you choose to be, you still have to have a great idea for a story (obviously). But if you can't immediately find an "amazing" idea, don't fret! Take it back a couple steps.
A. Think about you.
Much of literature comes from the author's personal interests. So--what interests you? Do you like hanging out with friends? Do you like playing sports? Are you a Sci-Fi person? Fantasy? Romance? Action? Figure this out first and foremost. If you need more help deciding, look at books you've read. Think back to the last five books you remember reading and thoroughly enjoying. Look for similarities between your favorite works, and add them up. Most likely, you'll find a common element that lights your imaginative fire.
Okay, so you have what interests you. But where do you go from here?
B. Search for an overarching theme.
The best stories are ones which are both complex and consistent in theme and tone. If you're writing a thriller about a mass-murderer, don't get to the last chapter of the book and determine it's been aliens (or the Mayans) the whole time, with no real lead-in to this ludicrous idea. *Cough Cough* David Cage.
Sit awhile and think. If you want to write a story about giant robots, that's your theme. Stick to it, and get ready to move on to:
C. Flesh out your characters & make a single end goal.
Many authors have often started by writing the end of their book. This can be effective for a number of reasons:
1. You have a direction
2. You know how your characters changed
3. Endings are tricky; the sooner you have them in your head, the less you have to worry later.
It's no secret much of an author's writing troubles come from motivation. Having an end goal in sight the whole journey makes it that much easier. It also helps the rest of the "bones" of your story fall into place; almost like the rib cage protects the vital organs in our chest, the ending protects the investments you've made in your story. (Think "The End Justifies The Means")
And when you have a story, you start to think of the actors for said story. Imagine the most likely candidates to play out the events, how would they (reasonably) respond to the conflicts and react to their peers? I recommend making spreadsheets for all of your protagonists and antagonists, at least. After all, you want to maintain internal consistency (as stated above). What better way to keep your characters on track than to have a written sheet? Outline their personality types; whether they're strong, smart, sarcastic; whatever. If you have an idea--write it down! Think about how the story starts and always have your characters change in some way. Above all, make your characters believable and interesting! Another tip; go to your local supermarket or park. Bring a pad and paper. Observe. Write. Study the way others interact with their peers, and glean as much info from it as you can. A story is, in essence, a community of elements working together. When one falls, they all look a little bit worse. So keep those characters interesting!
Okay; so you have your story and your characters--time to be a Plotter!
D. The Outline
Now, this is the point where writing seems a bit redundant to a lot of people. Why do I need to write my story twice? Why can't I just jump right in and write a masterpiece right away?
BECAUSE YOU WILL FAIL
Odds are, if you have no direction during your first story, you will eventually get bored, and you will give up.
Trust me.
It's happened.
A lot.
And an outline, believe it or not, takes a minimal amount of time and energy on your part. PLUS: an outline has no set rules by which it's governed, either. As long as YOU can understand it, you can write from it.
For instance, for the outline to my manuscript, I started out with an organized bullet-system and transitioned into just writing every major event in quick succession. You can do it literally however you want.
An example from my outline: SPOILERS
SCENE TWENTY-THREE—Interconnected
1.
SETTING—Cradle of the Deus
2.
CHARACTERS—Sindri, Evan, Lord Sloth, Baal’Thas
3.
POV—Evan
4.
PURPOSE—Introduce 2nd Antagonist,
complicate plot
a.
Evan, Sindri, and Sloth have just finished the
elevator ride to the Cradle of the Deus, a vast, shimmering expanse of swirling
pools and abyssal vortexes, with some gothic style architecture a frame along
the walls of the cavern.
i.
Evan wonders where they are.
ii. It is explained that Baal’Thas oversees much of the infrastructures
of the world.
iii.
They walk to the edge of a hanging gazebo
b.
Baal’Thas emerges.
i.
Baal’Thas erupts from the deeps of the abyss,
tentacles and all
ii.
Sindri and Lord Sloth bow low
iii.
Evan is in disbelief of sheer size.
c.
Baal’Thas smiles a creepy smile, Evan hasn’t
aged a day. Reveals Evan will inherit the world.
We've got everything we need to get started, so let's move on to chapter two:
II. THE DRAFT
This section is less about the actual process of writing the draft and more about techniques for story structure and planning ahead.
First of all, start it. Stop procrastinating. The second you sit in front of your computer, the INSTANT you open Word or whatever else you use, you'll find it easier to start. At least, I did. Every time I procrastinate, if I can get myself to just open the program, I can get at least an hour of work done a day. And that's what you want to aim for: Put at least an hour aside a day to write. If you think you can't make time, you won't. But you're wrong. You can always make time to write.
When you DO write, make sure you're not trying to sound like your favorite author. If you want my honest opinion, just write like you would talk. It sounds funny, I know--but it works. That's your voice.
When you start, start with something to grab the audience's attention. In the literary world, this is called the "Hook". You want people to read your story? No better place to start than the beginning. Don't think they'll skim through the first 20 pages of exposition and scenery description to get to a part that actually interests them. Here are some "don'ts" on the Hook:
DON'T START WITH:
1. Waking Up--Cliche
2. Description of Scenery--Cliche and boring
3. Quotes--Cliche and most often boring
4. Amnesia--So far cliche it's awful
5. A normal day--Cliche, boring, and a waste of space in the book.
6. Once Upon a Time--Childish and unprofessional
7. In the Beginning--Childish and unprofessional
8. A super-climactic event--you don't want to give it all away for attention sake and then start the second paragraph with a quiet car ride.
DO START WITH ONE OF THE FOLLOWING
1. A nibble. Start with something that piques a reader's interest, but don't explain exactly what you're talking about until at least a line or two later. It's a technique to keep them moving forward into the story; something you'll need if you want a good one.
2. An action characteristic of your protagonist, or of another character
3. A way to bring your reader into your world.
4. A catchy phrase, obviously relevant and part of your story. Perhaps thoughts.
Further tips for writing are: Don't overload your reader with description or huge, crazy words only an English Professor would know. They don't want to stumble through a maze and never understand what just happened because they were trying to understand what "platitudinous" means.
Show, don't tell. It's kind of boring to be told every single thought and feeling amongst your characters. We want to feel part of the story, not a captive audience. If someone is sad, don't say, "He was sad." Show it with his facial expressions. Let us feel it by hearing his words.
Keep the conflict alive; conflict holds attention and keeps pages turning. Again, think of 20 pages of exposition before anything interesting happens. Every scene should have some sort of conflict and rising tension, or at least some tease or special event which excites and stimulates your audience.
Now, the tips for structure aside, let's talk about what you do with any errors you may make along the way:
WRITE DOWN YOUR ERRORS AND KEEP WRITING FORWARD
There will be time to edit, later. If you find you didn't like the way a scene reads, write that scene down. Mark the page number of your errors. But if you keep stopping to rewrite the beginning paragraph 50 times, you'll never finish your story. Write it down, and then write it forward.
You've got the first draft! Hoo-ray! You're not out of the woods yet, pardner.
III. REDUX & COMPLETION
Let it sit for awhile, then... Rewrite your story. You read that right. RE...WRITE... Use your pages of errors, go back through the documents and change stuff. A tip for editing: Read your story aloud, at a realistic pace. It'll sound a lot different then, and if anything is wrong, you'll know it. It'll stand out.
After you've made a few changes, you might want to look into hiring an editor or (if you're lucky enough) finding one. If you opt for option two, find someone who is not A. A super-close friend, or B. A family member. They'll have bias, because they love you. And that's not a bad thing, it's just not necessarily helpful in this medium.
Edit and edit again, then rewrite and rewrite again. When you are absolutely certain there is nothing more you can do, there is. So keep going, and eventually you'll have it. It'll sneak up on you, and you can finally take a rest (or prepare your next piece!)
Overall, the most important thing to remember is to have fun! If you get through your book and realize you hated every step of it, then writing really isn't for you.
So all you need to make a great story is time, patience, and a lot of fun along the way!
In relation to Section II, I've left an example of my hook and opener at the bottom of the post (which received overwhelmingly positive feedback from a professional literary agent with bestsellers), if you'd like to check that out. Otherwise, hit the favorite button, please, as well as share with your friends!
Until next time,
-Dakota
Upon Glass Pillars
Sindri knew damn well he’d done it on
purpose, but she’d have to execute him later.
It came as no surprise; not a lot of
people enjoyed a Wrath’s company, and it certainly didn’t help that Sindri was
the least appreciated of her social class. But that scrawny, Greed-class bastard
who’d smashed his beat-up junction drifter into her convertible speeder made
her late for a very important meeting. She gritted her teeth in seething
recollection.
She’d just finished her coffee and
moseyed out of the cafe onto the snow-flecked sidewalk when she heard it: the
unmistakable crunch of dented metal. Luckily, she’d only parked a few yards
away from the door, and charged down the perpetrator: a stout, furred humanoid
in a battered ship. He was primed for takeoff when she jumped him. She’d pulled
him out of the ship and pressed her blade to his throat for the fatal slice,
but instead chanced a glance at her watch. She tried to imagine his face after
she left him there—idiot had to be pissing himself.
It didn’t matter. Now, as Sindri
floored her dented speeder between the towering skyscrapers of the city’s trade
district, she just prayed she’d beat her mentor there. He’d probably hit her
over the head with more snippets of the Wrath’s code. She rolled her eyes at
the thought. More lectures. Just what she needed.
Sour winds yanked back her
shoulder-length, black hair as she made a dive between two billboards.
A Wrath always sticks to pre-approved travel paths, unless
in pursuit.
The ship coasted on the breeze; a
gentle sway in its movement. Sindri grinned. She’d designed it to be the
smoothest ride in the Guild. She thought it safe to assume she’d succeeded.
The city was a blur around her, its
melancholic hues of gray melding together from the breakneck speed. The miserable
public on the streets below became a shapeless river, and the massive dome
marking her destination steadily grew closer.
The snow had recently cleared, a fact
for which she was deeply grateful. While the convertible could deflect the blinding
slush, Sindri much preferred the liberating feel of the open air. She smiled as
she reached a gray hand to readjust her rearview.
Another vehicle flashed out in front of
her, some four hundred meters ahead.
“Neek!”
the reflexive squeak she so desperately hated jumped from her tongue as she
stomped her foot on the brake. The speeder jolted to a violent stop, tossing
Sindri’s hair, haphazard, over her face. Trembling, she screamed in outrage
over the ruination of her recently-styled bangs. Her cries echoed through the
streets, bounced off the lofty towers like a game of masochists’ pinball.
A Wrath never attracts more attention than necessary.
After the ship cleared way, she kicked
the gas again, this time throwing on her authoritative sirens to avoid further
interference.
A Wrath never misuses its sirens.
At long last, the dome towered over
her—but she was coming on too fast. Sindri tightly gripped the controls and
held her breath, pulling them back for a near-vertical climb. She relaxed a
bit, and traced along the dome’s surface in her journey to the landing pads at
the top.
“Just don’t let him be here,” she
mumbled bitterly, her hands a white-knuckled vise on the controls. The speeder
broke over the edge of the platform, and she scouted a space relatively close
to the elevator at its center. She’d no time to lose.
Her ship drifted to the cement while
she hoisted herself up and bolted over its frame onto the ground with a heavy
thud. The door to the elevator stood just ahead, a lonely statue against the
pad’s flat surface. A dim light dangled above its silhouette, flooding the
platform in an eerie glow. Sindri sprinted to it, punched the call button, and
anxiously waited, slouched with her hands buried in her pockets. She squinted
to the southwest, regarded the mass of thick, ominous clouds encroaching from
the horizon. Then she tilted her head north, to the unknown.
She sighed. Out there—a whole world
outside the city. The Sloth clergy always preached about the uniformity of the
Earth, but something made her doubt that. There had to be something more than
the Guild—more than the gloomy metropolis and the misery of everyday life.
There had to be.
The elevator bell chimed, tearing her
from her curious musings. The doors slid open to reveal a cramped, reflective
box. Sindri stepped inside and turned to the console. She chose the bottom
floor, glancing up at her own face in the chrome mirror.
Lately, she’d begun to worry about the
tiny, darker dots that sprinkled various places on her light gray skin. She was
already different enough from the others; smaller, pathetic horns that sprouted
from the area next to her temples, ran behind her ears and barely poked above
her hair—her blasted, green eyes where there shouldn’t have been any at all.
“Look at you,” she mocked, remembering
the malicious voices of the other Wrath, “you’re hideous.” Even though she’d
tried to ignore them, it was only so long before she began to believe them,
herself. They didn’t like her. Nobody did.
Her eyes fell to the number “0038”,
inked in onyx on her neck. Tenderly, she ran her fingers along the stamp’s
length. Thirty-seven past lives she’d never remember; thirty-seven times her
carcass had been swallowed by a Glutton. And thirty-seven times she’d been
cloned from the reprocessed biological matter.
She couldn’t help but wonder what the
Sindris of the past would think if they saw her now; deformed, hideous, and hated.
Rage wrapped her in its scalding tendrils. Her face contorted in irritation; her
trembling fist exploded into her reflection, eradicating it and crumpling the
metal. As she pulled back from the small crater, a single drop of blood
spattered from her throbbing knuckles to the floor.
The time for reflection was over.
Collecting herself again, she dug into her pocket for a comb and moved to the
other end of the elevator for a better view. She wove it through her hair,
swept it over her bangs once more, before replacing it in her pocket.
A Wrath is always at its best.
The bell rang again and she rushed back
to the door, straightening her posture. It crashed open, leaving her defenseless
against the withering, eyeless glare of her mentor.
“Neek!”
she jumped, slightly rocking the elevator.
The gray man cleared his throat, his
tall horns vibrating with the movement. Empty sockets blindly peered beneath a
furrowed brow. His hair was combed back, his chiseled jaw jutted in
disapproval. The number “0001” taunted her from his neck.
“I assume you know what I’m going to
tell you,” he said, his deep voice filling the elevator from outside.
“A Wrath is
never late,” Sindri droned, before she shambled dejectedly past him and
into the chamber, any scraps of positive expression expelled from her
face.
No comments:
Post a Comment