Monthly Archives: February 2010

Yup. You read that right. Book in a Week.

I took a workshop by that title about two years ago and it was one of the gems I refer to with each new project. The main gist of it is this – write. Yeah. That’s it. Write.

For a writer, that’s a powerful word because it means so many things. It means the obvious – write. But it also means – don’t look back, don’t judge, don’t worry. Write.

The fabulous Nora Roberts said something every writer should remember. She said, “You can’t edit a blank page.” The Queen of Book in a Week-dom, April Kihlstrom said something else every writer should remember. She said, “The first draft is for your eyes only.”

So what if it’s crap? If it is, refer to Ms. Roberts’ comment and be happy you have pages to edit.

I have the tendency to write a sentence, study it, disect it and revise before going on to the next sentence and starting the process again. I’m a slow writer because my inner editor is a bitch. Nothing is ever good enough and so I always go back over what’s been written and wonder if it can be written better. You know what? It can always be written better.

Enter Book in a Week.

What’s the point? To get the words – the story – down with the least amount of distraction. To keep the story moving forward – not just on the page, but in the writer’s mind. Once the events are down, in pretty prose or shorthand, and ‘The End’ is reached, THEN the writer can go back to page one and add layers and texture.

April Kihlstrom was gracious enough to agree to an interview on this blog. In it she helps ease some concerns over the BIAW process. Take a look at it here and see what she had to say.

The hardest part of BIAW, I think, is banishing that inner editor. Writing is fun. And since it’s a creative process, there is no ‘wrong’ way to do it, despite what the inner editor says. That’s why it’s vital to lock it away.

And so, next week will start the BIAW marathon for me. I will have a very rough draft of my entire story by this time next week. It’ll be my muse’s chance to play. And when playtime is over – and only when it’s over – I’ll release my inner editor from solitary and let her have at it.

I picture Lucy and Ricky, with my muse being Lucy – all playful and mischief-making, and my inner editor being Ricky – all gooey-eyed over his partner yet logically cleaning up much of her mess. They meld together beautifully but look how much fun they are independently.

Writing is fun. Keep it fun and the story will flow. It has to because there will be no doubt. No looking back or revising. Writing is play and I intend to play with my writing this week.

Muse and Editor? Kiss goodbye. You’ll meet again a week from today and not a moment sooner.

Hi, my name is Debbie and I am a Pantser. Yes. I know. What is a plotting tool doing as the title of a post about a pantser? Well… this particular tool is one that works for both the detailed plotter and the seat-of-her-pants pantser.

I’ve talked about the W-Plot in the past and if you’d like to read my first take on it, you can find it here. But for now, I’d like to tell you about what I now consider to be the best use for this tool – it forces a writer to dig deeper. Believe it or not, even for a pantser, tha’s a good thing.

As a pantser, I find it impossible to write a detailed outline or synopsis of my story before my story is written. It’s not that I can’t come up with plot points or the emotions connected to them. It’s the way those pre-planned plot points and emotional responses make me feel once they’re on the page. I feel as if the story has already been written. There’s nothing left to do. My muse settles in for a Rumpelstiltskin nap and I’m left wondering what happened to the thrill of creating – and writing – this new story.

As a panster, the W-Plot helps me to rearrange the vague scene ideas I have at the story’s planning stages. I have a short list of events I know will happen in the story. I see them in my mind. My muse decides just how much to give me and gives nothing more. It’s a tease. This little muse knows how to keep me interested. Every muse is different and, I am convinced, every muse is like Tinkerbell. Hard to capture, easy to piss of and just bitchy enough to keep you on your toes. So, don’t push the muse or she’ll give you the silent treatment, and trust me, that’s the last thing a writer wants.

That’s where the W-Plot comes in.

Digging deeper for the W-Plot is not as strenuous as it sounds. Imagine a jigsaw puzzle. All the pieces are there, scattered on your table, but you can’t see the full picture they’ll create. You start placing the corners, the frame pieces. Each of the remaining pieces fit within that frame but where? How? What if one piece is missing? You must handle each piece, turn it around, match the color, the shape. One edge of one piece might fit against the frame, but when you start adding other pieces, suddenly you realize that piece is in the wrong spot. You thought it would work, but it doesn’t.

In a puzzle, that’s not such a big deal. You just take that one piece out and replace it with the correct one. In a story, it’s like major surgery. You can’t just move a scene around. Every scene must lead to the next. If a scene can be so easily removed, it probably shouldn’t be there in the first place. It must serve a purpose. The scenes before and after it will need revisions. The original scene will need them too because now it has to fit into a new spot within the story. Transitions have to be smoothed, information not yet disclosed must be removed, uncovered clues can no longer be a mystery. Of course it can be done. It’s done all the time. But it’s a lot of work.

How does this part of the W process help a pantser? By allowing the pantser a glimpse into the story without a full reveal.

The W-Plot gently guides the muse through the story. What is the character’s story goal, what does s/he want to happen in this story? The question can be answered in one sentence or two paragraphs. Whatever works for the writer. The beauty comes as the various W points are addressed – what event becomes the first obstacle to the goal? No details necessary. Just the idea.

While working my current W, I realized the flow of my simple plot points didn’t work the way I’d imagined. Each was worthy of the characters and the story, but their sequence did little to up the tension. And when writing romantic suspense, tension matters. A lot.

On the W template, I rearranged my one-sentence plot points until the ebb and flow of story worked the way I wanted it to. And yet, the story itself – and all of its surprises – have not yet been disclosed. I have built my puzzle frame and sorted my pieces. I still can’t see the whole picture but I know what I have to do to make it appear. I have all the pieces and, most importantly to me as a pantser, I’ll still have the thrill of building the picture one small piece at a time.

I love the look of my original blog. All of my favorite items were there – pictures of my precious pets, my favorite entertainer and my sweet shelter babies. But, I also love the look of this new blog. Warm and homey, it reminds me of a good book, the kind you take with you as you snuggle in for an evening.

I hope my new blog, with its new look, makes you feel welcomed and at ease. I also hope to stop by here regularly. Yes, I’ve been away for a while, only stopping in occasionally over the past couple of months. Maybe the more I come by, the more you will come by as well, and we can chat.

Until then, know I’m behind the scenes trying to work out the kinks still lingering in this new location… and I’m working on my next page turner.

But of course. What else would I be doing, anyway?

I never have a problem coming up with story ideas. Never. I have a folder full of them on my desktop. Why? Because ideas are everywhere. They’re in overheard conversations, news reports, billboards, TV commercials, movies. Even a slogan on a t-shirt can prompt an idea. Thing is, ideas aren’t stories and so… while I have tons of ideas, I have only a few stories. So far.

Several of my ideas have grown into story blurbs. I’m excited about all of them and cannot wait to dig in to each blurb and flesh it out. That’s the fun, creative part of writing – it’s also the most frustrating.

Imagine reading a book and you really get into it. It’s gripping and you cannot wait to see how the tension escalates, how the hero and heroine overcome their conflicts and make love. So you turn the page… but it’s blank. Turn another page. Again… blank. Frantically, you leaf through the rest of the book and finally spot some words on page 82. But they’re just a tease – an overview of what’s about to happen. How did the characters get to that spot? How will they get out of it? You want to know all this but no one is around to tell you.

Welcome to the creative time in a writer’s life – both thrilling and frustrating at the same time. Thrilling because we get to decide what and how things happen. Frustrating because we’re eager to know but first must form all the pieces from nothing, then fit them together. It’s the hair-pulling time in a writer’s life. It’s also the most thrilling time because when each of those pieces fit, when the hero shakes the demons from his back or the heroine sees her own worth for the first time and they come together as equals in love, it’s the most gratifying moment a writer can imagine.

Unless, of course, you count the moment a contract is offered.

Speaking of…

I am now awaiting word from a publisher regarding my last story. Of course, I hope they love it as much as I do and offer that contract, but I won’t know… until I know. So in the meantime, I’m doing what a writer is supposed to do. I’m challenging the ideas in my folder, seeing which one can stand the plotting test, and I’m forging ahead, hopeful, eager to torture a new hero and heroine just long enough to make them see their strengths so I can, once again, provide a happily ever after.